Home Is Where You Hang Your Graffiti.

I bought a house.

This is the house that I bought.

Yes, I realize that, at 35, this is not necessarily monumental.  The happy part is that I own it, not the bank.  Granted, it's sort of a piece of crap, but the point is that it's MY piece of crap, and when it's finished, it will not be a piece of crap at all.  It will be a very nice place to live and the envy of wildlife for miles around.  Until then, the wildlife don't have to envy because they currently seem quite content to call it home  See, right now it's just walls, windows and a roof.  I didn't even have to pay extra for the artwork in the garage!  It just came that way, and I'm sort of thinking of leaving it.  Now, I get to learn how to build a house with my darling husband, and I have a strong feeling that patience will soon be a hot commodity around here.  I can see this being a learning experience in countless ways - construction, zen, the art of letting him think everything was his idea...  I also get the joy of subjecting my (somewhat small, yet much-loved, I promise) audience to the experience of this project.  Start to finish.  You're welcome.

My artwork.  This came with the house!  Can you
believe my luck?!  I didn't even pay extra.

El arte es muy buena.

So, the first part - the buying process:  We found our lovely abode on an online auction website (hubzu.com), akin to an eBay for houses. You bid, they bid, you bid, they bid, you get pissed off and go through the whole, "Like hell you're gonna get my house!" song and dance.  If you bid most, congratulations! Susan (she was born Aishwarya and is married to Raj) is now sending you the paperwork from India to complete the transaction.  Unfortunately, I did not bid most.  Fernando, a shady local investor bid most.  And then tried to sell me the house for $10k more than he bid, before he even actually owned it.  Told you he was shady.  So, I bought it from him and then punched him right in the throat at closing.  Just kidding.  Sadly for Fernando, I did not buy it from him.  (Happily, I also did not punch him in the throat.)  I waited until nobody bought it from him, and he didn't close on it, so my backup offer was accepted by the online Qwiki-Mart of the real estate world.  Lots of boring paperwork, and several hundred signatures later, I was the proud owner of the half-house.  (Please do not confuse this with a half-way house.  Not yet, anyway.)

The inside of my house thus far.  House guts.

Now, floor plan in hand, it's time for the building to start.  I guess the first thing is to install the electrical system.  I either get to learn how to run wiring or hire an electrician.  I'm thinking electrician since electrocution is pretty far down on my bucket list.  Then it's on to walls and all those minor details.  I'm excited, though.  Like insanely thrilled.  This is the first time I've taken on a project like this, and in the end, it will be more like home than anywhere I've ever lived (no offense to my mustard yellow single-wide childhood home).  Wish me luck. I'll post it all, and you can read it if you want.  If nothing else, it'll make for a good bathroom diversion.  Plus, you can come stay with me in my House o' Awesomeness when I'm done, and I'll take you to the beach.  And out for pizza.  In the same day!  It's like you just won the lottery, right?

And now it's late, so goodnight!  I'm off to let visions of beautifully appointed laundry rooms dance in my head!