Channukah Dramukah
So the other day VD and I were going to do shopping at Scoop and pick up some Juicy but Dad killed that plan when he called me on my cell. He was annoyed since he had sent ten emails to my blackberry. I was like why didn't you call my cell I barely use the blackberry and he was like why did I buy that for you in the first place? And told me to come to the office right now.
Upon my entrance I was greeted by a black friday sized crowds at a walmart sale, typing papers and making calls. I took that as a bad sign, since it meant Dad had just yelled at everyone. I swear Dad should have been a Drill sergeant. His screams can make you do anything. Whenever I failed a test, Dad would yell at me and then I would run to my room and act like I was studying while reading Cosmo.
He came out of his office and barked out something about some account and three guys in Brooks Brothers suits started ripping apart some filing boxes. Than he brought me in the office me when where we had our father daughter scream. He did all the screaming.
This is how the conversation began.
Dad "Have you seen any apartments?" (Calm yet firm tone)
Me "No"
Dad "Have you been prequalified for a mortgage?(Now more firm)
Me "No"
Dad "Do you know what a mortgage is?"(Now annoyed)
Me "Something you get from a bank?"
Dad (low grumbling, shaking of head)
Dad"Have you decided where you want to live?." (Imagine really like deep growl)
Me "I'm still researching that."
Kaboom.
He started yelling that I had lived in Manhattan all my life therefore
I don't need to research anything and I am wasting my life and why don't I have a job and just because I have a trust fund doesn't mean I should act so irresponsibly.
This lasted for about an hour. Usually it takes him five minutes since he gets to the point really quickly but he kept getting interrupted with phone calls and what not and he would have to yell at one of his butt boys for five minutes than he would forget what he was saying to me than he would start from the beginning just to make sure he was covering his bases.
I wished I had a Cosmo to hide behind because he was glaring at me with those laser eyes which I hate because I feel like I am under cross examination. It was like as if I brought home a bad report card.
Then he told me to be home for first night of Channukah since Mom would be leaving for the West Coast soon to see my sister and her family and might not be back till after New Year's. And if I wasn't going to use the blackberry I should give it back since its costing him money.
I scampered out of the office not making eye contact with anyone. They probably felt better knowing that Daddy's little girl got torn a new one and that even I could not escape his rage.
VD suggested I buying sick amounts of Versace with the platinum as a way to P.O. Dad. But I just didn't feel like shopping. We grabbed a couple of lattes and VD started talking about how she would get back at her dad whenever he cheated on her Mom. One time VD's dad's snuck in one of his girlfriends into their apartment since he was too cheap to get a hotel while her Mom was out of town on business. VD found the girl friend's hair brush and sprayed nair on it. Her dad would tell everyone she was going through chemo when her hair fell out. After that he stopped bringing them over and rented an apartment in the east village.
When I got home I still had a couple hours before heading over to my parents, I tried writing another smackdown in response to the comments I was getting but I just couldn't deal and ended up putting a menorah for my entry in honor of those 8 crazy nights.
I started searching on the net about apartments because I figure Dad would hammer me with another pop quiz and so not in the mood.
I tried looking at some real estate sites but all they seemed to say the same thing. That the apartments were amazing and were great deals.
I looked up morgage on google and I got a billion websites. I found this definition
I guess the best comparison is that a morgage is the credit card bill after you buy something and you have to pay that bill off.
When I got home Mom was already finishing up the latkes and Dad was on the phone doing business. Mom asked me the usual questions. How was I doing? Was their a boy in my life?
Over latkes I told Daddy what a mortgage was and just like I called it he began to cross examine me on how to get one. Mom nipped it in the bud by serving more latkes and told him to leave me alone and that I was trying.
I get sad around Channukah since the whole family would always go Grandma's house in Westchester, making her laktes while the kids were playing with each other and the adults sipping coffee and wine. Then all the kids would fight over who would light the first candle and my Dad would yell that no one would light the candle and Channukah was cancelled. Then we'd all start crying and Grandma would tell us that Channukah was still on and would light the first candle herself and would say a prayer. The icing on the cake were the presents. One year I got the whole line of Barbie dolls, playsets and matching outfits.
But after Grandma passed away it Channukah was never the same.She held us all were laugh and her way about the kitchen. We still got together but as a family we began to drift apart. My cousins were going to college and for all the kids it was uncool to hang with the rent crowd. I still miss her latkes.
Upon my entrance I was greeted by a black friday sized crowds at a walmart sale, typing papers and making calls. I took that as a bad sign, since it meant Dad had just yelled at everyone. I swear Dad should have been a Drill sergeant. His screams can make you do anything. Whenever I failed a test, Dad would yell at me and then I would run to my room and act like I was studying while reading Cosmo.
He came out of his office and barked out something about some account and three guys in Brooks Brothers suits started ripping apart some filing boxes. Than he brought me in the office me when where we had our father daughter scream. He did all the screaming.
This is how the conversation began.
Dad "Have you seen any apartments?" (Calm yet firm tone)
Me "No"
Dad "Have you been prequalified for a mortgage?(Now more firm)
Me "No"
Dad "Do you know what a mortgage is?"(Now annoyed)
Me "Something you get from a bank?"
Dad (low grumbling, shaking of head)
Dad"Have you decided where you want to live?." (Imagine really like deep growl)
Me "I'm still researching that."
Kaboom.
He started yelling that I had lived in Manhattan all my life therefore
I don't need to research anything and I am wasting my life and why don't I have a job and just because I have a trust fund doesn't mean I should act so irresponsibly.
This lasted for about an hour. Usually it takes him five minutes since he gets to the point really quickly but he kept getting interrupted with phone calls and what not and he would have to yell at one of his butt boys for five minutes than he would forget what he was saying to me than he would start from the beginning just to make sure he was covering his bases.
I wished I had a Cosmo to hide behind because he was glaring at me with those laser eyes which I hate because I feel like I am under cross examination. It was like as if I brought home a bad report card.
Then he told me to be home for first night of Channukah since Mom would be leaving for the West Coast soon to see my sister and her family and might not be back till after New Year's. And if I wasn't going to use the blackberry I should give it back since its costing him money.
I scampered out of the office not making eye contact with anyone. They probably felt better knowing that Daddy's little girl got torn a new one and that even I could not escape his rage.
VD suggested I buying sick amounts of Versace with the platinum as a way to P.O. Dad. But I just didn't feel like shopping. We grabbed a couple of lattes and VD started talking about how she would get back at her dad whenever he cheated on her Mom. One time VD's dad's snuck in one of his girlfriends into their apartment since he was too cheap to get a hotel while her Mom was out of town on business. VD found the girl friend's hair brush and sprayed nair on it. Her dad would tell everyone she was going through chemo when her hair fell out. After that he stopped bringing them over and rented an apartment in the east village.
When I got home I still had a couple hours before heading over to my parents, I tried writing another smackdown in response to the comments I was getting but I just couldn't deal and ended up putting a menorah for my entry in honor of those 8 crazy nights.
I started searching on the net about apartments because I figure Dad would hammer me with another pop quiz and so not in the mood.
I tried looking at some real estate sites but all they seemed to say the same thing. That the apartments were amazing and were great deals.
I looked up morgage on google and I got a billion websites. I found this definition
A mortgage is security for a loan on the property that you own. It provides for your personal guarantee to repay the loan as well as a pledge of the property as security for the loan.
I guess the best comparison is that a morgage is the credit card bill after you buy something and you have to pay that bill off.
When I got home Mom was already finishing up the latkes and Dad was on the phone doing business. Mom asked me the usual questions. How was I doing? Was their a boy in my life?
Over latkes I told Daddy what a mortgage was and just like I called it he began to cross examine me on how to get one. Mom nipped it in the bud by serving more latkes and told him to leave me alone and that I was trying.
I get sad around Channukah since the whole family would always go Grandma's house in Westchester, making her laktes while the kids were playing with each other and the adults sipping coffee and wine. Then all the kids would fight over who would light the first candle and my Dad would yell that no one would light the candle and Channukah was cancelled. Then we'd all start crying and Grandma would tell us that Channukah was still on and would light the first candle herself and would say a prayer. The icing on the cake were the presents. One year I got the whole line of Barbie dolls, playsets and matching outfits.
But after Grandma passed away it Channukah was never the same.She held us all were laugh and her way about the kitchen. We still got together but as a family we began to drift apart. My cousins were going to college and for all the kids it was uncool to hang with the rent crowd. I still miss her latkes.
8 Comments:
You're not too rich to spell correctly. Get ieSpell and use it before you post.
Oh Christ, I am now your biggest fan. I wish I had a Cosmo to hide behind!? Daddies butt boys, VD!?!? I love it. The comments are killing me too. I've never seen people have such violent reaction to an unknown strangers posts. You are pure genius. When you can elicit the same response as Mustard gas on people who don't even know you, you know you’re good.
Doc
Elicit? Watch who you are calling a hooker!
I am glad you find my life amusing but all of those haters started with me first.
You and I are a lot alike in a lot of ways. However, I decided to go to law school and now I am a corporate and real estate attorney in NYC. I got the whole renting v. equity lecture when I was about your age and so I bought an apartment on the UES. As for how to start . . . I decided what I wanted (2Bed, 2Bath minimum) and went through the Times Sunday Real Estate section and just went to Open Houses (I ended up with a new construction condo so I could rent it out easily if I went back to Paris or just decided to keep it as an investment property after I got married). When you go to an open house, pay attention to the brokers who are hosting. When you find one you like and feel who understands what you are looking for or can help you figure that out, ask them to help you find a place. Since you are the purchaser, you don't pay the broker's fee (that is for the seller). Brokers are absolutely necessary in this town. As I said, I totally understand what you are going through. Good luck and don't pay attention to the people who post hate in your comments--it is too obvious that they are just jealous.
If you really are in need of figuring out apartments, you could always do it the Po' Man's way and use Craig's List.
But really you need to decide what kind of place you want to live in. Do you want to be closer to shopping? Or Would you rather be closer to bars and drinking? Would you rather live close to your friends? And I know its heresay, but you could always leave New York and go some place else, like Europe or LA.
Yeah, Craigslist is great. I had to check it out. I found this place online, it sounds cozy. http://newyork.craigslist.org/jsy/cas/51881179.html
Oh my gawd. How embarassing for you to have the IQ of a Goldfish. (I hope I'm not offending any goldfish...)
Does money make you more stupid or what?
PP, you are just too brilliant. I applaud you for refusing to take sh*t from other lowly jealous types. Although, alas, I am trust fund-less, I live in a coop in a good neighborhood, blessedly free of B&T, and enjoy using my platinum AmEx. And I miss my Grandma on Hanukah too. You speak to the inner PP in all of us.
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