So many things
I've been making a list of things I want to blog about. Alas, the time to blog is so hard to come by these days. Here it all is in brief:
1) If you want to sound like a moron, a great place to start is to confuse averse with adverse. Averse means disinclined. Adverse means harmful.
Words that are related to adverse include adversity and adversary. See how words are related? See how you can keep track of them in your head?
Actual people with actual college degrees who work in actual companies that are very big can't seem to get this one right, so it turns out that if you get this one wrong, the only person who will think you're a moron is me.
I'm a terrible person.
2) We've looked at more houses. Get back on the horse and all, you know? Here's what I've discovered about myself: I'm not averse (look! it's our vocabulary word!) to working on a house. I am averse to having no time or money to do anything because I'm working so hard on a house. I don't want to spend my entire life working on a house. I know there will always be niggling details to iron out, but I don't want my life to be a constant house project.
I realized this about myself when we looked at a house on Sunday that had so much potential, but would take years and years and years to right.
I want a house where people have made stupid paint and flooring choices or have maybe put up a stupid light fixture or two. These are the kinds of things I can handle.
I do not want a house that has a hole cut into the ceiling with a ladder in it to provide an emergency exit to the people who live upstairs (who will access this de facto fire escape through what used to be a closet and now is a hollow-core door with a deadbolt). I don't want to make up for people cutting a hole into the floor of the entryway of a formerly grand home, and installing an extremely narrow circular stairway to access a dingy basement. I don't want to have to uncover whatever terrible thing is happening now because someone took out a window and never replaced it and the house has been effectively open to the elements since the last tenant moved out.
These are the kinds of things I'm trying to avoid. These are the kinds of things we saw in just one house.
I think I don't want a multi-family. For a while, I was thinking it was the way to go. Now I think I want a single-family home for us to live in. We will buy a multi-family home that we can fix up and rent out later, one we won't have to live in, but will use as an investment.
That's the ticket.
3) Did you know people still smoke in the house? Yeah, we looked at a house on Sunday that had people smoking all casual-like in the house. They didn't even bother to air the place out for potential buyers. Insane! Especially in houses with kids. What are people even thinking?
4) If you got an invite to the Best Party Ever III!, RSVP already. If you didn't get an invite and want one, say so. This year's movie is Flesh and the Devil, and we've already ordered Herrell's ice cream and hot fudge for our ice-cream-sundae-ing pleasure.
1) If you want to sound like a moron, a great place to start is to confuse averse with adverse. Averse means disinclined. Adverse means harmful.
Words that are related to adverse include adversity and adversary. See how words are related? See how you can keep track of them in your head?
Actual people with actual college degrees who work in actual companies that are very big can't seem to get this one right, so it turns out that if you get this one wrong, the only person who will think you're a moron is me.
I'm a terrible person.
2) We've looked at more houses. Get back on the horse and all, you know? Here's what I've discovered about myself: I'm not averse (look! it's our vocabulary word!) to working on a house. I am averse to having no time or money to do anything because I'm working so hard on a house. I don't want to spend my entire life working on a house. I know there will always be niggling details to iron out, but I don't want my life to be a constant house project.
I realized this about myself when we looked at a house on Sunday that had so much potential, but would take years and years and years to right.
I want a house where people have made stupid paint and flooring choices or have maybe put up a stupid light fixture or two. These are the kinds of things I can handle.
I do not want a house that has a hole cut into the ceiling with a ladder in it to provide an emergency exit to the people who live upstairs (who will access this de facto fire escape through what used to be a closet and now is a hollow-core door with a deadbolt). I don't want to make up for people cutting a hole into the floor of the entryway of a formerly grand home, and installing an extremely narrow circular stairway to access a dingy basement. I don't want to have to uncover whatever terrible thing is happening now because someone took out a window and never replaced it and the house has been effectively open to the elements since the last tenant moved out.
These are the kinds of things I'm trying to avoid. These are the kinds of things we saw in just one house.
I think I don't want a multi-family. For a while, I was thinking it was the way to go. Now I think I want a single-family home for us to live in. We will buy a multi-family home that we can fix up and rent out later, one we won't have to live in, but will use as an investment.
That's the ticket.
3) Did you know people still smoke in the house? Yeah, we looked at a house on Sunday that had people smoking all casual-like in the house. They didn't even bother to air the place out for potential buyers. Insane! Especially in houses with kids. What are people even thinking?
4) If you got an invite to the Best Party Ever III!, RSVP already. If you didn't get an invite and want one, say so. This year's movie is Flesh and the Devil, and we've already ordered Herrell's ice cream and hot fudge for our ice-cream-sundae-ing pleasure.
Labels: on my high horse, parties, real estate, smoking
3 Comments:
It still titillates me to enter a place of business-- a deli or coffee shop or boutique or post office-- and see the person behind the counter enjoying a cigarette. That is one of the Continental excellences that distinguishes New Orleans from the USA.
My recent word discovery is that entitled should not be used for titled, as in, "A poetry chapbook entitled 'My Asphyxiating Grief.'" I had been unthinkingly interchanging titled and entitled for years.
I also recently learned, alas, too late, that one oughtn't capitalize "continental" when using it in the cultural sense.
Damien, you're hilarious.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home