HOME

Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

View My Complete Profile

My Amazon.com Wish List

Rate this Blog at Blogged

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

PanHandling!

Photobucket

Alltop, confirmation that we kick ass



Powered by FeedBlitz

Subscribe with Bloglines

Blog Search: The Source for Blogs

Add to Technorati Favorites

Digg!

Powered by Blogger

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

A weird sort of fog

Some time ago, I entered a housing lottery for a new, moderate income housing unit that was being built in town. I entered because it would be one half the cost of my current housing costs, it is all on one floor and has a handicapped entrance, it's in a really nice part of town, and oh, did I mention it would be half the price of my current home. I got my lottery number and waited and waited for the lottery to be run.

Tonight was the night. We got there right on time, to the auditorium in City Hall, and sat down in a small group of people, all looking anxious. The lottery was in 3 parts, for two separate units. First priority were city employees, and they got two entries into both units. Second priority were those residents of our city. Third priority were minorities. They only pulled two of the three sets of numbers because we had over 50% minority applicants, where only 17% and below would have required a third pull.

The builders spoke first and explained to the audience all the various strands of information regarding how to proceed if your number was called, etc. He took questions from the audience and once again the kids and I were astounded by the total density of some people. EVERY bit of information was already in the three packets we received. It was pretty clear what to expect, what was required of us, and what the lottery was about, but a couple of people either didn't bother to read the information or needed it to be repeated verbally and asked a bunch of redundant questions. Man, I hate that. Do your fricking homework, people. If I have to read and digest tomes of information, that doesn't let you off the hook.

Finally the Mayor showed up 1/2 hour late and proceeded to pull the numbers. Each of the two lotteries would have 30 numbers pulled. The higher up you are in the pulled numbers, the better your chance was of getting one of the units. The top 15 are usually the ones that end up getting through the whole process and getting a unit.

We were the last number pulled. So, we're in the process for the next step, but it looks grim. 29 people ahead of us would have to not qualify for the mortgage or the financial requirements for us to get the unit.

But at least they called our number. That in and of itself was pretty exciting since there were plenty of people whose numbers didn't get called at all.

We'll see. I'm not counting my chickens or anything, but geesh, to halve my housing costs would be so fabulous. Though the kids and I don't want to move at all. We love our little house.
Digg! Stumble It! JBlog Me add to kirtsy

2 Comments:

Blogger nita said...

i'll keep my fingers crossed ... i just heard a piece about builders being penalized for not having a certain %% for low/mod income housing. they're just paying the fines happily and selling their mcmansions for zillions ... sigh ...

17/5/06 2:40 PM  
Blogger OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

I wull say prayers Margalit. Have you ever done the imaging thing? Imagine yourself in this Unit...tryly see yourself there dressed in whatever; eating whatever, etc.? It couldn't hurt!

17/5/06 6:39 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Copyright, 2003-2011 by Animzmirot Design Group. All rights reserved. No part of this blog may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval without written permission from Margalit, the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. In other words, stealing is bad, and if you take what doesn't belong to you, it's YOUR karma.