In which I ask, WWMD?

What Would Martha Do?

I love Martha Stewart and I don't care who knows it.  I'll shout it from the hilltops.  I love her.  I love her the way Julie loves Julia.  It's the way her apron always matches her melamine nesting bowls.  It's her "elegant yet inviting" table settings and her "festive yet delicious" holiday treats.  I will never be Martha Stewart.  But gosh dammit, I'm gonna try.

So when I find myself in times of cooking or entertaining distress, I like to ask myself:

WWMD?  What Would Martha Do?

I've thought a lot about Martha during this escrow process.  I remember a couple years ago when I decided to make her festive yet delicious holiday fortune cookies for a New Years party.  It took almost seven hours and I suffered 2nd degree burns on most of my fingers, but gosh damn were those cookies cute.  So far the road to homeownership has been a similarly painful journey.  But if anyone could guide me through it, it's my patron domestic saint.  Martha is more than just a baker.  More than a mere business woman.  Ladies and gentleman, Martha Stewart is a bitch.

Let's focus on that last part while I tell you about my final days of escrow.  Tuesday was supposed to be the close of escrow.  But before that happens you have to do something called a final walk through.  It's pretty much exactly what it sounds like.  You walk through the house and make sure everything is in acceptable condition.  Here's what you're looking for according to some bullet points I purloined from a first time home buyer website:

• The condition of the property has not substantially changed since you agreed to buy it
• All required repairs have been satisfactorily completed or are in the process of being done
• The items that the seller agreed to leave have not been removed
• All items that the seller agreed to remove are gone

It's a step that has to be done prior to funding.  So pretty much if it doesn't happen, escrow doesn't close.  My walk through was scheduled for Friday.  Then it moved to Saturday.  Then back to Friday again.  Then Monday.  Then Tuesday.  Then back to Monday again.  There were a myriad of excuses for the delay.  The sellers had the stomach flu... the selling agent had bronchitis... the house was still not in a condition the sellers felt was acceptable for viewing.  I honestly didn't really care about the delays all that much.  It was only slightly annoying because the sellers have had their metaphorical panties in a metaphorical wad about closing on time.  But whatever.  Escrow is stressful for everybody.  I get it.  My metaphorical panties were pretty wadded up too.  So we set it in stone for Monday.  And I showed up.

And the house was a disaster.

Gaping holes in the wall where the TVs had been mounted, more holes where the child safety gates had been.  Visible hooks and nails were poking out of almost every wall.  One of the items the seller had agreed to leave was missing.  And the ugly ass metal rack in the kitchen that was supposed to be removed was still hanging there.  In spite of all this, the selling agent smiled real big and told me where to sign and legally declare that everything looked great.  She was actually a little aggressive about it.  All the work would be done, she promised.  The missing item would be returned.  And I was being silly and a total pill for raising a fuss.  There was a lot of pressure.  There was a lot at stake.  And my hesitancy was clearly exhausting her.  So then I thought... What Would Martha Do?

The correct answer is: Martha would be a bitch.

And unfortunately that's exactly what I had to do.  I was polite (well, sort of polite).  But firm.  I would sign the paper when -- and only when -- the work was completed and the house was in acceptable condition.  

The day only got worse after that.  Frankly I'm too emotionally exhausted to explain the story of how a very small communication snafu between my lender and my escrow company resulted in me getting wiring instructions that were off by more than 150,000 dollars.  You read that correctly.  150,000 FUCKING DOLLARS!!  (I'm sorry.  I told myself I wouldn't say the F word in this blog.  Especially not in all caps.  But cut me some slack.  We're talking about a lot of money.)  But it got fixed.  I made the calls.  I went over the numbers.  And I handled it all as a single woman.  And I didn't even cry.  Well, maybe a little bit.  I'm not Martha after all.

Monday, despite being the hardest day of escrow so far, ended on a positive note.  When I finally got back to my apartment, the Crate and Barrel pillows that I ordered for the new house had arrived.  And let me tell you, they are adorable yet functional.  I think Martha would be pleased.

-Sarah Watson
A Single Woman

Seriously. How cute are these? These are Martha's but mine turned out equally as festive yet delicious.