December 23, 2012

My First Place: Hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let's have a ball

Description: Nadia hopes to find a prime location and Paul insists on having ample square footage in their first place. But finding both in the Washington D.C. area will be tough, considering their budget maximum of $375K.
Available on Hulu

I always forget about My First Place, even though it's as much of a trainwreck as House Hunters, if not more so, since each episode is a first time home-buyer. I do find the amount of time they spend on offers and counteroffers and inspections annoying because that shit is boring.

But anyway, today's first placers are Paul and Nadia and they both live and work in Washington DC. Has DC officially been named America's most boring "city" yet?

Paul and Nadia need a new place because their current one is really small.

She's blow drying her hair while he's trying to watch TV! These scenes were very poorly acted. 

Paul and Nadia want a 2 bedroom 2 bath home with an updated kitchen and their budget is $350-$375,000. Nadia wants to stay in DC, but Paul wants to move to the suburbs because they'll get more space. If they do move to the suburbs, Nadia wants to avoid south Arlington because apparently south Arlington is terrible or something. I don't really know anything about Arlington, so I can't speak to this, but, again, I think DC is pretty terrible and boring in general, so I don't get the hate on this one specific area. I mean, it's a nice place to visit with all of the history and government and what not, but to live? No thank you. 

Anyway, their realtor is David and I think he might hate Nadia as much as I do because he's taking them to a place in south Arlington.

Stank face! Nadia is not pleased with this.

Stank face! Nadia says, "I'm trying to keep an open mind, but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna hate it." That actually sounds like the exact opposite of keeping an open mind.

The townhome they're looking at is 2 bedrooms and 3.5 baths in 1600 square feet. Nadia immediately notices the road noise and complains, "That's a pretty loud main road." Paul says that it's not that bad, but Nadia counters that, "It's a big highway!"

Wow, look at that huge highway. Four whole lanes. David points out that if the townhome weren't on this big highway, it would cost over $400,000. 

Stank face! And she's only like two feet into the house.

Nadia doesn't like the stove. "It's electric and 150-years-old." I don't like electric stoves either, but let's not get hyperbolic, Nadia.

Stank face! Nadia says of the kitchen, "I hate it completely. I completely hate it." She's a little dramatic, yes?

Nadia doesn't like that the living area and dining area are all one space. 

Stank face!

She says, "It's an open floor plan, but there's not much of a floor plan to open up to." What does this even mean?

The balcony faces the "big highway," so Nadia doesn't like the "lack of privacy."

Paul doesn't like the wood balcony, which is kind of falling apart. Nadia freaks out about that and scurries back inside and snottily says, "It's about to fall, so you should just get off it too." There's that hyperbole again. Paul just says, "No it's not," which is really all you can say.

Stank face! I forgot what this was in regards to, but the house tour is over, even though they don't even check out the upstairs.

Stank face! Before seeing the second place, Nadia complains, "I just have a feeling it's going to be a long and painful search." Maybe you have that feeling because you intend on making it a long and painful search. Just a thought.

The second place they look at is a 2 bedroom 2 bath 1100 square foot condo in Alexandria for $360,000. Nadia and Paul both like that it is newer than the last place they saw.

But neither of them mention how terrible that carpeting is. Paul doesn't like that there is no formal dining area, but Nadia doesn't mind it, even though it was such an issue in the last place.

They like the view from their living room window, but I don't see how there's any more privacy here than there was in the first house.

Finally there's something for Nadia to get stanky about. She doesn't like the size of the master bedroom closet. David says, "It's a little small for a master bedroom," and Nadia says, "It's A LOT small for a master bedroom."

Paul and Nadia don't think this is the place for them, but Paul says they're getting closer to finding exactly what they want. David says that they have plenty more properties to look at...

and Nadia gets dramatic about having to look at more houses. We all have our crosses to bear, Nadia.

The next place they look at is a brand new 2 bed 2 bath 1135 square foot condo in south Arlington for $389,000. Paul and Nadia like that it's brand new and Nadia says, "Brand new is nice. That means no problems, no issues." Ummm, that's not really true. In the late 90's I saw a report on Dateline about some horrible new construction McMansion in Georgia that just like collapsed in on itself. Like Poltergeist, but because of shoddy new construction and not Indian burial grounds.

They of course love the hardwood floors and granite countertops. 

They also love the sunroom, even though it doesn't have any nice views, only ones of their neighbors, which is kind of creepy. 

Stank face!

Nadia thinks the guest bedroom is "kind of small." David says that you can fit furniture in it. Well, I would hope so. 

Nadia loves the master bedroom closet. Bitches be shoppin. 

David asks if they want to put an offer on this condo. Paul for sure does, but Nadia wants to think about it. For a week. Nadia's reasoning: "It's great, but maybe there's something better out there." Like they say on Say Yes to the Dress, when you find the dress(/house) you love, you stop looking. They decide to put an offer on the house.

The list price is $389, but they offer $365 plus one year of condo fees. I assume they can ask for that because they are buying directly from the builder and not like an actual owner, but I don't really know how real estate works, so I might be wrong.

While waiting to hear about their offer, Nadia says she is panicked and asks Paul, "Would you turn it down and walk away if I'm scared?" What? Paul says the only thing you really can say to that, which is, "Dude,  seriously?" I like Paul, even though he has those glasses that turn into sunglasses but then when you're in a too bright room you look like a 1970's pedophile. 

David calls with news.

They've countered with $369, but have accepted the one year of condo fees.

They counter their counteroffer with $369, one year of fees, and a storage unit, which costs $4500.

The seller makes a second counter offer. See what I mean about this shit being boring? I just fell asleep for 22 minutes while typing this all up. Paul and Nadia accept the second counter offer. And now it's inspection time, but these should be a breeze since new construction has no problems.

Stank face!

Nadia writes down everything that needs to be fixed and says, "Unless they fix everyone of those things, I'm not going to buy this place." Does Paul have a say in this?

Nadia sounds like Veruca Salt when she says, "They agreed to fixe everything and I got my way." Man she sucks.

They sign the closing papers and go to their new place.

And HGTV rewards their (well, Nadia's) terribleness by giving them a gift card.

December 12, 2012

Exploring the 2013 Dream Home

So I haven't blogged in forever and I've been meaning to write lately, but my internet has been acting wonky and videos take forever to load - it's almost as bad as dial-up - so I can't watch House Hunters or HHIntl or any other HGTV show. But then, like a Christmas miracle, HGTV released the photos of the 2013 dream home, a 3000 square foot home in Charleston, SC.

But you don't build an HGTV dream home without breaking a few eggs, or rather, massacring a few trees. 

HGTV really seems to enjoy playing God with these trees' lives.

This house may seem nice, but it's kind of a dick. It makes you sleep in crappy places.

Like an entry way.

And the hallway at the top of the stairs.

It leaves odd produce - odd in that it's nothing you can just pick up and eat, like apples - sitting around. 



It makes you invite over your girlfriends and forces you to read one copy of the HGTV magazine and share one drink and eat one dozen lemons.

It puts up possibly racist artwork. 

It tells your other, non-racist artwork and accessories, "Get the fuck out! There's no place for you here." Which I'm fairly certain is what people told Joseph and Mary.

It makes ridiculous claims:

Like calling a chair shoved into a corner a "reading nook."

It boasts:

about it's side yard views,

it's cedar shingle-style siding and extended eaves,

and a private entrance to the back deck.

It's also commanding.

Despite all of this, the house is super generous. It will lend you a ton of shit:

a mature appearance, 

a lived-in look,

a sandy beach style,

a rustic touch,

a spa luxury to the shower experience,

a modern aesthetic, 



a sense of permanence,

an urban sensibility,

a touch of femininity, 

more elegance,

a graphic punch,

a subtle feminine touch (which is different from a touch of femininity), 

bed-and-breakfast style luxury,

visual interest,

a touch of shimmer,

visual appeal,

a lived-in, comfortable look,

an intriguing design element,

more visual appeal,

more permanence (and also, why are modern Zen interiors not permanent?),


more rusticity, 

contemporary styling, and,

most importantly, an essential pop of drama.

I'm gonna lend HGTV a thesaurus. Hell, I'll just give 'em one as an early Christmas present.

The house has these magical chairs on which you can read, reconnect with friends, watch TV,

hookup with an ex, broker a peace deal between Israel and Palestine, look at pornography, make friendship bracelets, blog, do the lean back, eat a calzone, play D&D, text the friends you just reconnected with, watch cat videos, write thank you cards, drink lemonade, look up random articles on wikipedia. Really, there's an endless number of things you can do on these chairs.

Just kidding. It only says read, reconnect with friends, or watch TV. Only those three things.

But most importantly:

the house has a professional-quality ping pong table. It's the only table professional ping pong players use. This more than makes up for the boasting, bossiness, possibly racist artwork, dubious "reading nooks," weird produce, and shitty places to sleep.

This post was brought to you by:

a big-ass car,

a satellite dish,

a spot cleaner,

 a fancy vacuum,

insurance, and

another, less fancy vacuum.

No trees were massacred in the making of this blog.