Of course, the builders of my new condo complex poured most of their attention for the first several months of construction into the buildings that house the models; of the loft-style buildings, two are complete. My building constituted the sixth release of properties for sale, and was, as of June 26, in this state:

My building is the middle one of the three; my apartment is on the at-this-point nonexistent third floor. The word from the builders is that they’re going to be sufficiently done, such that they can get a certificate of occupancy (the famous “C of O”) from the city, such that we can close, in November/December. Since the outset, though, I’ve been planning on something much more akin to January, as they don’t seem to be progress with terrific speed. Here’s the place on July 3, which is, granted, only a week later:

The third floor has begun taking shape. I’m gratified to see that already my balcony can support a hefty load of two-by-fours; I like stability in a balcony.

The rear balcony also seems nice and supportive, though of smaller loads.

The pace of construction appears to have picked up a bit while I was in Hawaii, I’m pleased to say, though I’m still a little dubious of the 2004 closing. Next week: where we were last week.

Jake wrote me a while back to suggest that my condo-in-process might provide a useful opportunity for some photoblogging. Of course, as I’ll no doubt discuss at great length at a future moment, such a photoblog is a bit complicated by my technological circumstances (see above blog title for a hint), but I’ve nonetheless striven mightily, and can thus present to you the first edition of what (I hope) will be a weekly feature hereabouts: Monday Morning Condo Blogging.

Today’s images date from June 26, and show the possible* future exterior of my building. The building shown is the first one you come to upon entering the complex, which was nearing completion when I took the pictures; my building will be the fifth. My unit is on the third floor, on the northern end of the building.

The unit’s entrance is on the ground floor; the exteriors attempt to mimic a kind of urban-industrial look, but do so in typical Los Angeles po-mo style.

The living area is on the east side of the building; there’s a great balcony on the north-east corner, between the living and dining areas.

The ceilings of the third-floor unit are 12 feet high, and the windows are about 8 feet high. They run on three sides of the apartment. And apparently, there are 30 of them.

There’s only one unit below mine, which takes up all of the second and a good bit of the ground floor. The second-floor units have an extra room, but the ceilings are a mere 10 feet high. And the windows a mere 6. And they have me walking around upstairs.

There’s a second, smaller balcony off the master bedroom, on the north-west corner.

Coming next week: images of my actual building-in-progress.

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*I am under strict instructions by the builder not to take anything about this model as a “promise.” Substitutions may be made! Changes may be wrought! They may not be able to help it!

Things I have not been doing this summer, that I still hold some hope of getting to soon:

1.  Finishing the three half-written articles that really ought to have been done a long time ago.

2.  Figuring out how those three articles might begin to come together with a couple of other already-done articles in some form that might turn itself into a “book.”

3.  Revising the syllabi for next year’s classes, such that neither my students nor I have an unbearable workload, but that said classes remain interesting for all concerned.

Things I have been working on, but not at quite the pace I’d like, that I’m really hoping to step up over the next couple of weeks:

1.  Electra.

2.  The anthology whose editorial board I’m on.

Things I have been working quite hard on, that weren’t originally part of the summer plan, but that have managed to take over every available moment for the last several weeks:

1.  Reading legal documents at great length, and attempting to translate them into a language with which I am familiar.

2.  Documenting, at great length, my general trust- and credit-worthiness.

3.  Learning to read electrical plans, and making follow-on decisions about power outlets, voice/data jacks, and ceiling fan j-boxes.

4.  Restrategizing my entire financial plan for the next couple of years, and recalibrating my lifestyle expectations from “comfortable” to “grad student.”

Life is good, but work is suffering.  If I haven’t done so adequately before now, let me take this moment to express my deep gratitude for the blessings of tenure, and most of all for the fact that, if the items on the first list are severely delayed by the items on the third, it just doesn’t matter.  For the first time in my life, I’m on no one’s schedule but my own.

It’s been an eventful couple of weeks around here; I’ve gotten settled into my new office, I’ve been hard at work on projects both new and old, and, in my spare time, I’ve begun the process of buying a condo.*

Probably needless to say, the last item on that list is absorbing the vast majority of my time of late.  This is my first foray into home-ownership, and I’m finding every aspect of it alarming.  For instance, did you know that:

1.  With a 30-year mortgage, it is entirely possible that I will still be paying off the condo when I retire?  (This first is purely hypothetical, of course; given the typically delayed entry of a Ph.D. into the job market, the less-than-embarrassing salary drawn by an academic, the state of the economy, and the projected future of Social Security, I expect to work until I die.  In fact, I kind of imagine that last event occuring during some protracted committee meeting, but that’s another story.)

2.  In the Southern California real estate market, it is possible to buy a condo with perhaps 25% of the square footage of my parents’ home for something on the order of 125% of said home’s current appraised value, even despite said home’s coveted address and non-backwater locale?

3.  When purchasing a new condo, everything you might actually want in it decor-wise constitutes an “upgrade,” despite the already exorbitant cost of the shell?

There are more things I’ve learned over the last few days, but my head is still too spinny to remember them.  I’ll post more as things clarify, which I hope will be soon.

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* I was going to link to the developer’s site here, but have thought the better of it; I’ll wait until after the closing before I start naming names.  Regardless of my freaked-out state, I still want this place, and don’t want to screw it up.