Legal

After two cups of coffee, and a few hours spent researching this matter on the Internet this morning, I have calmed down. I was ready to change the name of my blog, and still may have to, but I am questioning the whole legality of this e-mail I received. It wasn't even on proper letterhead, and who knows who really wrote it. I also read a misspelling in the e-mail. This is a little bit of a red flag for me, or at least enough of one to make me sit on this a bit. I am in no way infringing on Prada's business. I am not stealing their loyal customers, or tarnishing the brand name that they have worked so hard to achieve. I write. That is it. I whine, and complain, and question. I am not selling anything, laughing all the way to the bank, thanks to the Prada name. I am not pretending to be Prada. I am me. I am one woman. A mom, a wife. Like I have stated in my profile, I met my true love, got married, and moved to Pennsylvania. We are happy, and broke. Period.

I question everything. Even my own foreclosure situation. It is constantly on my mind, as not having a home for my children would really loom over your day to day life. I question the legality of this aggressive step our mortgage company has taken. I wonder why they would nickel and dime David and I, because that is what they are doing. We have begged, and pleaded with them to lower our mortgage payment just a few hundred dollars a month, which would enable us to stay in their home. Just a few hundred dollars. Not thousands. Hundreds. It is the difference between having a roof over my family, or having no where to go. I don't understand this, in the time we are living in, and the countless amount of empty homes. Empty homes, sitting, and rotting. For years.

We drove around yesterday, and I snapped a few pictures of some of the homes on my block. Literally, all within a two block distance. I neglected to take one of the house right across the street from me. My neighborhood is full of them. One after the other. They make me sad. I used to see families that lived in them. Now they are gone. I always wonder where they are now. What became of them. Are they OK. I think of my house sitting empty. For years. All because my mortgage company nickel and dimed us. All because they offered help, and then decided not to. All because they based my husbands salary on the 60 hour work weeks he was killing himself to do, just to play catch up.

All because they can. Because no one is stopping them. No one can afford a lawyer, and be in the middle of a foreclosure process. Two weeks ago, I went to the mail box, and there was, addressed to me, a credit card offer. It was from the very bank that is currently foreclosing on my home. I laughed.

So sue me Citimortgage. Sue me Prada. I have nothing. Nothing but an overwhelming need to stand up, and say, this isn't right. This is criminal. Putting families out of their home, who are begging to stay in them, and want to make a payment, is not right. None of it is right. My mortgage company would short sell this house for $75,000.00 to anyone else, and take a huge loss on it, yet it won't come down in our monthly payment, just three or four hundred dollars. Let us have it for $75,000.00! We sleep here, and eat here, and love here, and laugh here, and hold our babies here, and fight here, and stress here. We are a family here.

But they don't care. Soon, my house will be dark. It will sit here, for years, and fall apart, and rot, and be uncared for, because we got nickel and dimed.

Because they can.