As I mentioned on Twitter a few months ago, I took a little break—not only from blogging and tweeting about HGTV, but from watching it, period. It wasn’t personal, I was just immersed in applying to grad schools, on top of my full-time job and there weren’t enough hours in the day to snark on House Hunters on the side. I decided to put some things on hold until 2012.
I thought I’d be back after the holidays, but then I got caught up in a bunch of other stuff, including a trip to Hawaii, and returning to blogging was put off again. In the meantime, Michael Ian Black is trying to usurp me, that bastard. HGTV is now doing HGTVBingo. So now it’s serious.
Here’s the problem: I have too many freakin’ House Hunters episodes stored up in my DVR. We’re at 92% full and my boyfriend is going to take drastic measures soon. I’m totally in denial about this. I’m not sure whether to declare bankruptcy, try to watch through them all marathon-style, or just pick and choose based on the vague descriptions. Not all of them are interesting. Let’s face it, most of the time, House Hunters is a pretty boring show, which is why we like it. Doesn’t mean I want to spend my precious TV-viewing hours watching teachers from Delaware upgrade to a three bedroom ranch for 12 hours straight.
So in the next few weeks, I hope to get back into it by writing up some more long-form recaps and live tweeting (even if the episode is a couple weeks old). I may not get through them all, but I want to keep creating new stuff for y’all to read. We shall not let Michael Ian Black win.
The housing boom in Florida certainly fueled it share of excess. Our new favorite: David Siegel’s Versailles, an unfinished 90,000-square-foot home in the Orlando area that boasts 13 bedrooms, 23 full bathrooms, a 6,000-square-foot master suite (with plans in place for a bed on a rotating platform), a banquet kitchen plus 10 satellite kitchens, a 20-car garage, three pools, a two-story wine cellar and a grand hall with a 30-foot stained glass dome.
As I’ve said many times via Twitter, my number one future residence wishlist item is in-unit laundry. Screw granite, I want to do laundry in the comfort and privacy of my own home. To me, that is total luxury.
In my adult life, I’ve mostly done laundry in creepy apartment basements or sketchy laundromats. Here’s why it’s awful:
1. Schlepping your laundry several blocks away. In the rain. In the snow. Did you forget your quarters? Your detergent? Yes? Better run three avenue blocks home. Remember, you’ll have to carry it back, too.
2. Some laudromats are open ridiculous hours. Like, 6 am to 6 pm. Huh? Who gets home in time to finish doing laundry BY 6 pm?
3. Laundromats can be GROSS. The first time I lived in Brooklyn, the large laundromat down my block had rats running around. And this was the “nice” laundromat. Plus, you’re sharing machines with the filthy clothes of all of NYC. There’s a lot of grime here. And people are always putting sneakers in the dryers.
4. Crowds. This is probably my biggest complaint, and it’s still a problem even if you have laundry in your building. On the weekends, everyone wants to do laundry. You find yourself waiting for washers to finish, so you can take someone else’s gross wet clothes out and hope they don’t return in time to see you touching their underwear. On the flipside, you end up waiting for hours, “guarding” your machine so that you can do multiple loads. And if you have a day off and decide to do laundry during a “non-busy” weekday, you quickly realize that the laundromat employees are using 90% of the washers for the drop-off customers.
It’s just aggravating. Luckily, I do currently live in a building with a few laundry rooms. My boyfriend takes it a step further and pays our cleaning lady to do his laundry. Yes, I said cleaning lady. She comes every other week, and it’s the best money we spend, aside from rent and food.
But I really don’t mind doing my own laundry, if I know that I don’t have to worry about hauling it around and snagging a free machine. When I lived in Phoenix, we had a washer/dryer right in our apartment. You could just walk over and dump your stuff in. I never had huge piles of laundry accumulating. I could just do it, painlessly. It was amazing.
Someday….
Miss the days when Suzanne Whang hosted House Hunters. Now they have a Suzanne wanna be trying to sound like her… HM WHY DON’T THEY SHOW YOU THEN!? HUH!? Okay… I’m a big fan anyway.
Apologies to all Floridians out there, but anytime I see an episode of House Hunters set in Florida, I know my eyes are gonna be rolling nonstop. When the buyers are looking in Fort Lauderdale, and they’re under 65, I assume they work in the assisted living industry.
So I was thrown when this episode featured a lady we’ll call “Angry Lauren Graham” and her husband, who shall be known as “I’m Here Too.”
Angry Lauren Graham has some weird job that involves interpretive dance and wearing flow-y tops.
Maybe she teaches retirees to dance? I’m Here Too does something too boring to show on camera.
Here’s the crazy thing: Angry Lauren Graham is Canadian. And she’s not nice. Although she does say “a-boot.” Seeing mean Canadians is just…like seeing a mall Santa take his beard off. Very upsetting.
An important thing about this couple: They like bossing around stubby, blond, balding guys, whose names end with “k.”
Exhibit A:
Mike, a “friend” who unwittingly agreed to take them in when their lease expired. From body language alone, we have to assume that Angry Lauren Graham knocked Mike’s door down and demanded a bed. I’m Here Too must have shrugged at his friend and whispered, “Thanks, man.”
Exhibit B:
Realtor Nick, who we’ll call Scared Patton Oswalt. I have a feeling they chose a realtor using the criteria “Who can we best frighten into submission?”
—
So, instead of just finding a rental in the interim, Angry Lauren Graham and I’m Here Too decide to invade Mike’s house and hassle him about his food choices. Seriously, the one scene of them cooking together (what, no veggies to chop?) features this couple complaining that he doesn’t have “adult food” for them. Um, Mike is paying rent on his own dwelling. If he wants to eat cereal and milk, more power to him.
Culinary mastermind Angry Lauren Graham sighs and tells her husband, “I’ll make you a bagel.” So you can see why they’ll need a granite counter top and top of the line appliances.
House 1 is an immediate disappointment.
“I made it very clear to Scared Patton Oswalt that we only want a single family home,” Angry Lauren Graham declares. The hapless realtor tries to calm her wrath, pointing out that it has the requested 4 bedrooms (one for each half person!) and a pool.
Once inside, she is pleasantly surprised that the disgusting townhouse has a nicely updated kitchen. (Who knew that contractors would actually step foot inside such a building?) Now she can spread cream cheese on bagels to her heart’s content.
Unfortunately, it’s a short sale, which could mean 6 more months of being passive aggressive with Mike. Scared Patton Oswalt points out that, in the long run, 6 months isn’t that much time to wait for this kitchen. Or they could, you know, find a perfectly fine house and spend that money upgrading a kitchen to their exact specifications.
Remember kids, you’re not buying real estate as much as a slab of granite. Choose wisely.
House 2 is a single family home with only 3 bedrooms (oh no, only two empty bedrooms!). It’s also a ranch house, when Angry Lauren Graham specifically requested two stories. It makes her feel safer, people. Everyone knows burglars can’t climb stairs!
On the bright side, she sees a lot of potential for entertaining all those guests who are sure to come from Toronto. What is it with people on House Hunters who seem to think that they’re going to have constant house guests? If you were traveling all the way from Toronto, would Fort Lauderdale really be your top destination?
Unfortunately, there’s a hiccup. The price is at the top of their budget. And the kitchen is a nightmare. I mean…my GOD. Formica. No stainless steel in sight.
I’m Here Too asks his loving wife, “Can you live with this kitchen for a year or two until we could afford to update it?”
“No,” says Angry Lauren Graham, without missing a beat. “I would need it updated immediately.”
I’m Here Too says that Scared Patton Oswalt better be a “miracle worker” on that purchase price. Cut to the realtor, wishing the non-hardwood floor would open up and swallow him whole.
House 3 is located in Boca Raton. Hey, maybe they’ll run into Jerry Seinfeld’s parents at the early bird. Complaints include: paint color that doesn’t complement anything they have, tile (Angry Lauren Graham does not like tile), and four bedrooms that have far too little square footage for all the empty space they need.
When this couple made their final decision, their main factor was “which option would allow us to inconvenience Mike even more?” So House 1 it was! And for four additional months, they took advantage of Mike’s hospitality.
You see, in Angry Lauren Graham’s world, short term rentals do not exist.
But once they move in, she is able to make her dream come true: lounging poolside while I’m Here Too plays pool boy.
Plus, they have their first party, where the median age seems to be 75. Welcome to Florida, eh?
It was a rare non-rainy, non-100-degree day, so I met my less-bitter co-habitant for lunch at Central Park. As we walked the path, looking for a spot to set up, I heard a tourist behind me explain to her little kid, “People here don’t have backyards, so this is like everyone’s backyard.”
Lady, you couldn’t be more right.
Each of us is allotted approximately .74 square inches of personal space here in our backyard! At night, we’re totally willing to surrender that precious space to our rat friends. It’s just like Ratatouille!
And there’s this guy!
This is the tale of two “Whoo!” girls deciding to skip right to “Go” and, possibly with the sole objective of getting on House Hunters, BUY a house together. As roomies.
That’s right. Yet another couple moving straight from mom and dad’s place into real estate. Who needs that pesky “rent a friggin’ apartment” step, anyway?
Since I can’t remember their names, we’ll call them “Bangs” and “No Bangs.” Bangs looks like Joanna Gleason with a bad wig.
No Bangs looks like a bigger, older Leighton Meester. They live in some anonymous place that could be anywhere, so we’ll just say it’s San Diego.
Currently, the girls “never have to pay for groceries.” Mom does Bangs’ laundry and makes her bed. Sounds like they’re livin’ the life.
But apparently they’re determined, and to assist them in the process, they’ve secured the services of their friend and realtor, “Glasses,” who looks like she read a few too many fashion blogs and will regret appearing on national television in those glasses, oh…in about three weeks.
Glasses has quite a challenge here, as Bangs wants a single family detached home with a yard and a view. No Bangs wants a low-maintenance townhouse with neighbors. Lest you fear that these two could be torn apart by their differences, they reassure us that they “went through contracts and stuff to make sure that they’d stay friends.”
Oh yeah, that should do it.
Glasses hopped in her Chevy (that’s funny, don’t they sponsor House Hunters?!) and took them to a townhouse where, for some reason, the presence of a wood floor led No Bangs to “bust a move.”
(Said move busting)
In this property, Bangs asked “Don’t pretty much all houses come with granite?” Bangs, Bangs, Bangs. Have you never watched House Hunters?
They do need that granite, because they plan to use the kitchen for drinking.
And, ladies and gentlemen, mark a square off HGTV Bingo, because Bangs is freaked out about having neighbors. Period.
House 2 is a single family home. No Bangs observes that “this is a neighborhood with lots of people. It feels like home.” Several months later, the sneaky HGTV editor cuts to several shots of abandoned-looking houses, and tumbleweed drifting down the street.
Bangs, seemingly worried about cleaning up dog hair, exclaims, “I like the floors, they already look dirty!” Yet, these baffling standards do not apply to the counter tops, which she declares “prehistoric” and assures No Bangs (who’s satisfied with their neutral color) “we’d be tearing these out.”
Come on, Bangs, don’t worry, you can still mix your Midori sours on laminate counters!
Before leaving the property, Bangs selflessly offers to find someone else to push a lawnmower.
House 3 is another single family home and No Bangs won’t shut up about the neutral colors. Christ, lady, it’s a can of paint.
There’s nothing particularly interesting about this house, except that Bangs is wearing a black fringe minidress with matching boots, like she’s about to audition for the part of evil Nancy Sinatra, but she accidentally put on the wrong color wig:
For the big reveal of their choice, No Bangs graces us with her finest black and gold tiger stripe flip flops.
They choose House 1 and celebrate with a “Whoo!”
As they put together IKEA furniture one month later, they talk about how it’s “weird” to get bills in the mail. HEL-LO! You can totally use auto-bill-pay, ladies. No more yucky bills to open.
I can’t wait until one of these women gets engaged 5 months from now, and leaves the other home broke and homeless.
If one more person on House Hunters, My First Place, etc. turns down a property because it doesn’t include granite counter-tops in the kitchen and bathroom, I will probably walk outside during the next storm and pray that an angry God will strike me dead.
(Source: ourcitadel)
It’s been over 90 degrees in NYC for the last few days, which means it feels like 110. Every putrid smell takes on new life and intensity. Subway stations that vaguely hinted at rotting garbage now reek of the stench of death and decay. The trains are crowded and everyone’s dripping with sweat and they’re rubbing up against you in creepy ways.
It’s too hot to take part in any of those “fun NYC activities” like the farmers market, or waiting in absurdly long line at that one halal cart.
It’s too hot to sit out in our backyard fire escape.
Even the fancy pools, like at the exclusive hotels in the Meatpacking District, have all sort of gross waste matter floating in them.
This is not the place of “Selling New York.” That show is a lie. This is reality. Steamy, smelly, relentless reality.
