Tag: House

Forging the Foundation (Mar 25 2026)

JulianLeave a comment

Measure twice, cut once. 

15 contractors interviewed, of which: 

  • 4 fired me on the first call when I wouldn’t tell them a budget. 
  • 2 submitted proposals without walkthroughs, of which:
    • One was way too high, with unreasonable structural terms that brought to mind the anger of a jilted lover. 
    • One was nondescript. (I guess that’s what you get when you don’t even do a walkthrough.) 
  • 9 visited for walkthroughs, of which:
    • 1 started as the leader of the pack; I then realized he was making me worry about the wrong things. 
    • 1 wears Carhartt to “dress the part”, but has no actual substance along with this appearance. 
    • 1 mis-estimated the size of my apartment by about 3x after looking at architectural drawings. 
    • 3 never sent proposals (lol!)
    • 1 came in so low as to seem scammy. They also call me every other day, even though I haven’t replied in weeks (lol.) 
    • 2 seemed reasonable, of which:
      • 1 failed to refer me to their recommended architect when I requested (and then stopped talking to me for reasons uncertain, but perhaps that I answered honestly his question “What are you thinking about our proposal?” with “You’re currently second place in my final three”.) 
      • 1 has nailed down scope and is finalizing contract terms.
        • UPDATE THREE HOURS LATER: WE HAVE SIGNED. I HAVE A CONTRACTOR. WOOHOO!!! 

I really don’t think I’m a problem client.
I wouldn’t mind working with me.
I would need to be clear about expectations and boundaries.
I would need to feel comfortable saying, “That’s a no from me, dawg.” 

But I’m not a blocker.
I care about quality and enabling my team to succeed.
And when I say I’ll do something, I do it. 

And in return, the contractor will receive: 

  1. Money. Lots of money.
    1. Incredulous question: How the hell do people buy renovations without negotiating scope or terms? Some of these were shocking:
      1. I saved at least 10% on the total cost by simply saying “this seems high” to a bunch of terms and he came down on them. 
      2. I saved at least 15% by simply saying “What is this thing?” and then saying “We don’t need it” when the price was higher than my value. Recessed shelf in shower for $2100? Nope. Stone step in front of shower for $500? Nope. If it ain’t functional, good chance I don’t want it. 
  2. Referrals. Multiple referrals.
    1. Because I vet my contractors and vendors aggressively, peers take my advice. My sister is about to renovate her apartment. Is she going to spend 5 months going from 15 to 9 to 3 to 1? Or will she trust that my analysis is worthwhile (and even just use my contract structure, which I went back-and-forth with him on four times, lol.) 
  3. Focus and edits and improvements, oh my!
    1. One part of my contractor’s contract had him proposing usurious terms in case of nonpayment. A quick google showed these as 1) non-enforceable, and 2) a criminal violation! Like very illegal!! A totally reasonable person might have let him keep those terms. But I told him how to improve them. And now he’ll probably fix his standard contract. That’s nice. 

My contractor search started in September. Today, it is March 26th. This may be the second biggest personal purchase I ever make (after the home itself). Shouldn’t I do it right? 

Homeful (Jan 29 2026)

JulianLeave a comment

In which Our Hero lands. 

Today… I bought a house! 

A home, to be precise. (It’s an apartment.) 

It’s in New York, a block from Central Park. 

It’s big enough for a family, and gets great light. I’d love to live with roomies 🙂 

Here’s what happened (all numbers are approximate). 

  • I arrived at 11:27 for a 12noon closing. 
  • From 11:30 to 11:53, my attorney walked me through the financials.
    • One fun exchange:
      • “This was more work than I expected,” he said. “Do you want to increase my fee?” 
      • “No,” I replied. 
      • “Fair enough.” 
    • And another:
      • “I know people,” he told me. “You’re smart. You went to Harvard.” 
      • “I went to Yale,” I replied. “Don’t insult me.” 
      • He laughed. 
  • At 11:53, the title company transfer agent arrived. 
  • From 11:53 to 12:10, I signed some necessities (her notary book, for instance). 
  • From 12:10 to 12:25, we waited. 
  • At 12:25, the vice president of the co op board arrived. He brought soup for lunch. 
  • From 12:25 to 12:35, the vice president and I signed a few documents. 
  • At 12:35, the attorney for the co op arrived. 
  • From 12:35 to 12:45, the attorney and the vice president and I signed a few papers. 
  • At 12:45, the president of the co op board arrived. 
  • From 12:45 to 1, the president signed a few papers. 
  • From 1:00 to 1:17, we waited. 
  • At 1:17, the lawyer for the bank arrived. 
  • From 1:17 to 1:50, I signed 50 documents totalling over 200 pages.
    • Many of the documents requested of me were inaccurate, either procedurally or factually. For example, the bank attorney wanted me to sign a document saying that my ID was correct as written. But he wanted me to sign the document *before* he wrote the details in. I said no: he should write it in, then I sign. And he WROTE IT IN WRONG. 
  • At 1:50, we faxed the information to the bank. 
  • From 1:50 to 2:10, we waited for confirmation. 
  • At 2:55, my attorney’s receptionist suggested I leave. “We’ll call you back if we need anything from you.” 
  • At 3:45, I received the confirmation. 

I now own a home. 

Well, technically, the bank owns the home, but they’re going to let me live in it while I pay them back! 

Going Places (Jan 28 2026) 

JulianLeave a comment

In which Our Hero voyages through space and time

Theo works nights at the front desk of the only hotel in this small French town. He works days at the car dealership, cleaning cars. He also works days on his talent management company. He wants to build the ROC Nation of France. He is 23 years old and wants to retire by 40. He prefers the American work ethic to the French one. I tell him to make sure to increase his hourly wage, not merely his number of hours worked. 

—

“You sleep when you can.” 

The businessman in the neighboring airplane seat says he lives his life out of suitcases, in identical rooms in identical towns. He changes time zones frequently: today Munich, tomorrow Mumbai. After years of struggle, he gave up on circadian rhythms. He sleeps when he sleeps and works when awake. One day, maybe he’ll have a partner. I wonder how old he is. 

—

Ilian is 21 years old, on an airplane for the first time. He’s snapping pictures out the window as the plane lifts off, and sets his phone to record video when he’s sleeping. “Comme un gros oiseau”, he says. Today he goes to Iceland. Next year, to Switzerland. Also on his list: Japan. I tell him Japanese pork was my surprising highlight of the cuisine. He doesn’t eat pork. “You’re Jewish?” I ask. His eyes widen in what looks to me like repulsion. “Muslim,” he corrects. He shares with me a breadstick he brought for the trip. We exchange phone numbers. When I return to Paris, we’ll go to a museum. Maybe one day I’ll tell him I was raised Jewish. 

— 

Somehow I became 32. I don’t remember 31 from 30. I can’t parse 29 from 28. I suddenly understand why my father takes a moment to isolate what year an event happened. “It was nineteen … (pause) eighty … (pause again) seven,” he’ll say, and then be proud he pinned it down. 

Six years ago I didn’t want kids. Five years ago I didn’t want a life partner. Four years ago I started taking exogenous sex hormones. Three years ago I flew to Australia to escape heartbreak. Two years ago I met my now-partner. One year ago I still lived in a van. 

Tomorrow, I buy a home. 

And the day after?