VG Kitchen Remodel: The Before & The Plans

I'm back. Sort of. Kind of. As you may or may not know depending how often you visit the blog posting has been rather sporadic as of late. Between planning a book tour, a massive fund raiser at my work, and the fingernail ripping pains of escrow I've been rather busy.

Still, I finally closed escrow and come Friday - unless HUD decides to continue being a dick and delays itself again - I should have keys in my hand.

And while there is no running water, or garbage cans, or service to pick up said cans, and a front gate that doesn't latch, there's also crayon on the walls, a turd in the toilet that's been there for two weeks when a homeless guy broke in and stayed the night, and there's a bit of wood rot in the eaves with a moldy shadow that whispers anti-Semitic remarks at me... this house is mine! This piece of crap house is finally mine!

I suppose this sort of euphoria is normal, the way mothers are completely mindwiped of the previous twelve hours of vagina-ripping birth horror the second they pick up their child. House keys do the same thing with memories of escrow. Had I not documented the fact that it was such a nightmare I would probably just pass it off in conversation as, "Oh yes, it was unpleasant. You'll get through it though. It's so worth it!" 

I have yet to see this be the case for myself, but after looking at my interest rate and mortgage payments that are scads lower than what I was paying in rent it's certainly shaping up to be. 

Until that time comes around there must be construction. The kitchen, to be exact. The rest of the house consists of lots of little projects. (Well, okay, the yard is Lovecraftian Beast formed of neglect and spite and crowned with a dilapidated hot tub; but that can wait.) 

The kitchen has gas. That's the plus. The only plus.

Currently, the layout as it stands is crap. It's tiny and impractical for functional flow or movement. The oven is totally busted and there is no fridge or dishwasher to speak of. There's a poorly painted door where someone didn't tape up the glass that lies about four feet away from the front door for no logical reason. A tiny nook for a table the size of a footstool is provided for your convenience. The cabinets are ugly and covered in fairly horrifying stencils I assume a bored housewife popped on back in 1978 when it was cool and cable T.V. couldn't fulfill a bored housewife's needs all hours of the day. 

I could go on, but allow me to show you instead...

Escrow: Vermouth Cocktail with Grapefruit

-The cure to pre-home ownership woes. Also, my current loan company people are pretty awesome. I just need to vent so bear with me here.-

Congratulations! You are in escrow! The home of your dreams is soon to be yours! What? It's a HUD owned home? No worries, this won't be too much different from a regular escrow.

Confused about what to do first? Follow this handy step-by-step guide!

1. Collect all the information your loan company needs to move forward with escrow. This includes a government-issued ID, a month's worth of pay stubs, a credit report, and information on any major loans you currently owe on.

2. Oh, you already gave them that? Hmm, something must have been lost in the mix. Well, just re-email the electronic copies you made. Or fax the hard copies you have again. No worries!

3. Time to get your inspections done. This means that some people will come out and make sure your home is in working order. This is kind of pricey, about $500 to get the roof, pest, and general inspections done. However, this will save money in the long run if they find major problems.

4. Write out another check to the appraisal guy who will tell you what your house is worth and what needs to be addressed in order to receive your loan.

5. There's nothing majorly wrong with the home aside from a few tiny fixes that need to be addressed. Huzzah! You got the appraisal back, too! The house is worth more than what you will pay for it. Double huzzah! You just have to fix a small leak in the kitchen, too. No biggie, right?

Card Not Needed: Chia Lemon-Thyme Cocktail

-The oddest cocktail ever.-

Ask me. Ask me, you cock-holstering bitch. Don't you dare not. I swear to God if you don't I will kidnap you, smuggle you into a Slovakian whore house for leprosy patients, and tape dollar bills to the inside of your colon. ASK ME!

"That will be $21.20. Will that be all for you today?" the teen behind the register asked.

"Sure. Fine." I handed him my debit card trying to hide my boundless anger and disappointment. 

Fuck you, you son of a bitch.

"Thank you for shopping at Total Wine."

You won't be twenty-two forever! Someday you'll grow old, too! En-fucking-joy it! *internal and incoherent rage ensues*

This was the sixth time in two months I wasn't asked for photo identification when buying alcohol. I'm only two months short of thirty! I eat well! I work out! I look young for my age! 

Or... apparently not.

God. Damn. It.

HUD: Asparagus & Ricotta Tart

-Swearing and political incorrectness ahead. So business as usual. Deal with it as I delete bitchy comments and emails.-

So yeah, this post has nothing to do with food except that - once again - I turn to it in order to sort of calm myself down because I'm screaming across the room like a cat with a dangly toy strapped to its neck.

We're in escrow for a home right now. At least we are on the date that I write this. We still have yet to undergo appraisals and inspections of all kinds so by the time this goes up in two weeks (yes, I write posts that far in advance so I have enough time to proof and edit... in theory) we may not be in escrow due to actually getting a set of keys, or because the inspector finds something like severe roof damage or the bodies of numerous missing hitchhikers dating back to the early nineties and therefore the place is not given the go-ahead by the loan people.

And yes, this is actually reason to not be granted the loan. I asked. Because I ask these sorts of things.

So let me tell you the epic tale of dealing with a HUD home (a home owned by the government) and how shit is perpetually flying fan-ward. Actually, not flying, but perhaps nervously humming around like a kamikaze shit-helicopter waiting to obliterate itself upon the blades and explode its stinky bits just oh-my-god everywhere.

Why Blog Writing Should Be Celebrated

So Saveur.com recently announced that nominations were open for Best Food Blog Awards 2013. I'm not much for these contests, I admit. I find them to be popularity contests more often than not.

(In full disclosure, though, I was a nominee for Best Food Writing in 2010, and Best Essay in 2011. I find this rather curious as more often than not I usually just purge onto my keyboard every week and it somehow comes out somewhat cohesive, so thanks to everyone who keeps coming back every Tuesday to see what hot mess I've spewn out.)

I am overjoyed to say that I was nominated with some pretty damn awesome people and the winners truly did earn their titles. I've also boasted my nominations here and there so I guess I can't knock on the Saveur nomination and voting process too much without being a bit of a hypocrite. Another post, perhaps.

This year, though, there was some category shuffling. Best Food Science, Best Kids' Blog, and Best New Blog were all added to the list and all very necessary categories than deserve recognition, a bit of fanfare, and an award in which the winner is showered in sexually loose groupies and a Parma ham.