Background

Despite an often entertaining three years in our current apartment, J and I recently decided we'd like to live someplace more like a home and less like a piñata. Our walls are paper-mache and our upstairs neighbors are a bunch of kids who routinely beat on their floors and cave in our ceiling for fun. No, seriously, they did that.

Here's our bathroom ceiling after months of repairs. I wish I'd had my camera the day water was pouring down a piece of insulation into a 5-gallon bucket on the floor.

Our demands were modest: the new apartment needed only be 1) cheap, 2) cavernous, and 3) conveniently located. There was a fourth requirement, that the new place be quieter, but we realized that would be an inevitable consequence of leaving our current abode.

As the weeks passed, we began to wonder whether we would need to lower our standards, lest we find ourselves forced to renew our lease. The low point was probably when The Apartment People recommended we consider our own apartment.

However, patience and Craigslist paid off, and we found a cheap (check) 1300 square foot (check) three-flat only a few blocks away (check) from our current location. The catch?

The cabinet monster in repose. We later found out that this isn't attached to anything, including the floor.

You can't tell, but the bulb is low enough to give a tall person a nasty forehead burn.

As if the walls weren't blue enough.

Just don't look behind the stove.

Okay, you looked, but don't touch that wire.

I think it'd be brighter without the bulb.

The Eye of Sauron never sleeps?

This isn't even the worst burn.

It speaks for itself.

We spent a few days talking ourselves into fixing the place up, and decided that we could surmount this old domicile's challenges and create a home that doesn't spontaneously collapse into showers of drywall-flavored candy.

My home repair experience consists of a couple weeks I spent working for Habitat for Humanity in high school. J's experience comes from watching New Yankee Workshop on PBS. This is our story.