Archive for the ‘home’ Category

So, super Tuesday is upon us. I can’t think of a better way to not only begin Black History Month but the next eight years of American democracy than for people in primary states to cast their votes for Barack Obama. The more I see from and about him, the more I’m convinced that his presidency would be a defining moment for the US and the world; not only that, but his hopeful message—one of the first of its kind in the darkness of the last 7 years—brings to mind the finest moments of figures who defined their generations: John and Robert Kennedy, Bill Clinton, even Paul Wellstone.

I urge you to visit his website to learn a bit more about why Obama is the only clear choice for us right now, and to watch Lawrence Lessig’s elucidating talk on why he’s choosing Obama over Hillary Clinton. Now, go vote!

The truth is that I’d like to quit my job and start a rock band.

The truth is that I hate my commute, except for the part when I cross the bridge and the part when I pull into the drive way. The truth is that I stay pretty tired, but it’s okay cause our bed is pretty comfortable. The truth is that I desperately need to get into the gym, and write more posts, and take more photos with a real camera and fewer with a phone. The truth is that Juno was much better than National Treasure Part 2, or whatever is was officially called.

The truth is they might sell the company I work for, and I’m not having much luck caring or even understanding what that might mean—the truth must be that consolidation is Good™.

The truth is I bought a two pound bag of jerky, and have convinced even my wife that it’s awesome stuff. The truth is my XBox finally caught the red ring of death, and we might get a Wii assuming I can find one. The truth is it feels good to tell the truth, even a small one.

So, we close on the house tomorrow. Right now, I’m sitting in an almost bare house that’s almost packed and I’m almost asleep. I’m told that closings take a long time, and before I can attend ours I’ll be cleaning and watching the insulation guys do their thing.

This hasn’t been a bad apartment, aside from the heat that went on the fritz last winter and all the bats this summer. At least the neighbors were quiet, even the Ukrainian strippers.

Sometime tomorrow it will sink in that my wife and I are the proud owners of a pile of wood and brick and cement that we bought to put our stuff in. It’s a little absurd, really; I mean, who would have ever thought that I would buy a house, much less one that essentially is in the middle of nowhere. When I think of all the times that I sat in a restaurant here and mourned the death of our anonymity, longing for the days in DC when everyone didn’t know all of your shit, it seems even more odd.

But it’s perfect in a way, really. I’m not normal, so signing on to do a three hour commute for at least another three years kind of fits. Besides, who wants to pay DC rent? And anyone who’s seen my wife–or talked to her about her work, and heard just how brilliant she is–has even more evidence about why I might forgo a better job in a more stimulating town and sign on for a heaping helping of Beigeville. For this, I’ll take the constant waving at everyone we see; the inability to make it out of the coffee shop in under an hour. The trade off is that I have great friends in two cities, and a wealth of people to help us move all our stuff in that aforementioned pile of wood and brick and cement.

Owning a home is just another club to join, like the married club or the having kids club. After years of actively not wanting to be a member of any club that would have me, I think I’m weakening in my old age. As long as I can stay a member of the PBR and sheetcake club, this should be pretty easy.

So this is what happens: you get married, you buy a house, you have babies. We are stuck on the middle part.

We’ve seen 15 properties in just a few short weeks, and we’re tired. The two offers we’ve made (hey, we’re picky) have come in short. So far, the whole process seems inelegant and labor intensive–and there aren’t many houses around here worth seeing. Only one has really caught my eye–the 1936 Sears Craftsman pictured here–but alas, our offer was low for this one too.

So it’s a work in progress, this home buying business. We’ll get there, and soon all my Apple crap will have a place to live and I’ll have an office to do freelance (lots of freelance) from. Until then, anyone know of any great Craftsman houses going cheap on this side of the swamp?