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Say that word three times and you have the holy grail of retail.
After falling in love with bipolar Charles I made the serious commitment and - as it often feels - error of buying a house with him. The house was no more prepared for him than I proved to be. Nor was I ready for home ownership.
The first thing to break was the attic latter. In retrospect it seems an omen. Then there was the day I awoke to discover that in a manic fit Charles had removed the dropped ceiling from the room in which I type this. I have no idea how much it would cost to repair the grim looking ceiling above me.
Until the water started flowing in I had no idea that one of the ugly awnings that I removed from over the windows would prove to have utilitarian purpose.
Nor that the front porch would begin to rot.
Most glum of all: part of the ancient wiring would fail taking out the ceiling lights. Floor lamps happily offset this. Except in the bathroom. The wall outlets are on the same circuit as the ceiling. A light in the hall and camping lanterns work ok for me. But many wouldn’t agree.
I call the place my shanty. And it is.
I don’t know about you but faux wood paneling strikes me as just damned ugly. At least the paneling here isn’t the really dark kind. When we were looking for a house we ran across one. Even the less sensitive would find that troubling to live with.
Most annoying is the dinginess that some walls have acquired. Why? No place I’ve ever lived has had that happen. It just seems like part of a curse that I acquired with Charles.
Applied visual aesthetics are beyond me. Since Charles was a nancyboy. I thought he’d take care of that. But heroin and crack took precedence. Bright industrial grade steel shelving seemed like a great idea. My store taught me to appreciate maximum storage capacity per square foot of floor space. But it doesn’t - at least in my unable hands - create an appealing atmosphere.
My income allows me to survive. But I don’t have the cash to refurbish and repair.
This is actually another reason I think of looking for a male top. My dim perception of socialization leads me to believe that my shanty would trouble women more than men.
Comments
Richard, I hope this won’t come out wrong…I know how it is to get advice that is totally unsuitable. But I think you really can do something about the condition of the house if you’re concerned about it.
Dingy walls can be painted. I’m not sure about the wood paneling but you may be able to paint that also. Painting rooms yourself takes time and it’s a pain in the ass, but it’s not very expensive and you don’t have to finish it all at once.
If you can’t face painting the walls, a magic eraser might get rid of the dinge, at least. They work well and you can buy them at the grocery store.
You could replace the missing ceiling with some kind of fabric that you could staple to the corners of the room and let drape down in the middle. Something like this or this might be a starting point for thinking about it. Fabric is pretty cheap. (Even if it comes out looking weird, it will make you look eccentric rather than…whatever it looks like now.)
At the risk of sounding like a jerk (for which I know you’ll forgive me in any case), try not to not do this stuff (or whatever you can do) just because you can’t do everything.
You could also consider moving into an apartment if it gets to be too much.
Posted by: Dev | November 19, 2007 2:48 PM
You know me: your responses are always welcome.
Some of what you suggest is either more expensive (or I’m broker) than you might think. Others exceed my skill level. And some I hope to accomplish.
Since I have a mortgage getting out of this house is impossible (actually apartment rentals outside of ghettos aren’t much cheaper).
Posted by: Richard | November 19, 2007 3:01 PM