Every Single Post
Here you will find every post I've written in order from first to last. See just how crappy my house used to be...
October 3, 2013
Hey! It’s me! It’s you! It’s my first blog post ever! I’ve got a crappy house and no money!
OK, I’ll stop shouting. I’m just excited is all. Welcome to my brand new blog. I’m here on the interwebs to tell you all about my crappy house. As you’ll soon see, it needs a lot of work. This is my first time owning a home, but I’ll be doing as much of the work as I possibly can by myself, learning as I go. This should be fun.
I mean writing about it should be fun. The actual work? Doubt it.
Meet My Crappy House
This is the earliest photo I have of My Crappy House. It was the main photo on the real estate listing when I bought it in May of 2011. I guess this was the best they could do. A crappy photo of a crappy house…
What’s the Plan?
I have so much I want to share with you, but let’s start at the very beginning. (A very good place to start.) When I first saw My Crappy House, I could tell it had so much potential. Like a diamond in the rough. (OK, maybe not a diamond. Maybe like… a high quality cubic zirconia in the rough.) It just needed a makeover. Keep reading to see the before and after floor plans of My Crappy House remodel.
I closed on My Crappy House in mid May and planned to move in mid July, leaving me ample time to renovate. Yes, I seriously thought that the major structural changes I’m about to share with you could be accomplished in two months.
This was the first of many delusions.
Welcome to the Jungle
Not only is my house crappy, but my yard is extra crappy with a side of crap. Supersized. This past weekend, I planted a lawn. (Well, it remains to be seen if it will be an actual lawn, but I put down seed and I’m crossing my fingers.) I bought the lazy girl seed that’s specially coated to keep in extra moisture in case I forget (I will) to water.
While the baby lawn struggles to grow, I thought now would be a good time to catch you up on the story of my backyard from the beginning.
I got the keys to my crappy house on Wednesday, May 18, 2011. On Saturday, I showed up with my pry bar and hammer, ready to kick some ass and do some demo. As I mentioned before, I was very delusional at this point and I fully expected to be able to tear a whole house apart, remodel it, and then put it back together again. In 2 months. By myself. Just me. You would think I was high, but no. Drugs are stupid. And unnecessary. I come by my delusions naturally.
The demo was uneventful. I didn’t uncover any antique jewelry boxes stuffed in the walls or a sack of money or human bones. I did uncover one interesting find though. This was behind the paneling in the first room I tore apart.
Ironically, my bathroom was the first room in my house to stop being crappy. (Get it? Bathroom…? Crappy…? Oh, never mind.) It was fully renovated before I moved in and it didn’t cost me anything. I know! What??
I love chandeliers. They’re ridiculously trendy now, but about 5 years ago, when I needed a black one for my bedroom, the only reasonably priced ones I could find were from stores in the UK. (That happens to me all the time. Damn you, England, and your cute shops with awesome stuff that won’t ship to me.) The cheapest one I could find in the US was like $300. It wasn’t in the budget. So I started trying to come up with alternatives. I found a plain, old, brass chandelier frame on E-Bay with the wiring intact for like $20. I bought it.
Wallectomy: The Surgical Removal of Load Bearing Walls
I moved into my crappy house in July of 2011. By January of 2012 I had made little progress on the east wing due to the fact that removing load bearing walls is neither easy nor free. Who knew? (Only just everyone.) Performing a wallectomy isn’t like removing any old wall. You do it wrong and your house basically falls down. It dies. No one wants a dead house, so I had to leave it to the professionals. Luckily, my cousin (Tommy) is one of those, and he likes me, so he eventually made some time to help me out. On the last day of January, I got the call. His exact words? “I’m coming tomorrow. Get the f*ck out.” So Egor and I did.
It’s More Than a Closet. It’s a Sanctuary.
What do you do when you’re somehow amazingly able to find an affordable house with three bedrooms and you really only need two? Well, duh! You turn that superfluous bedroom into a dream closet, of course! A dressing room. How many people actually get to have their own dressing room? Celebrities. Rich people. And me!