Tomb of the Unknown Contractor

One is forced to wonder, if Anne Frank had wound up in this attic, would she have survived as long as she did? If the Nazis didn't kill her, certainly, the oppressive ugly of this mess would have. This house is not in need of a contractor to remedy whatever personal demons were being worked out during its construction; it's in need of a mental health professional. One could probably take a stab at a diagnosis just from looking at the, a-hem, "design." There are steps leading to a front door -- but where one would expect to enter, alas, there is a wall. Perhaps the owner is aloof, distant, "closed-off" or just batshit crazy. It's as if a Victorian cottage were entombed in a block of concrete unable to make a Houdini-like escape from its captor. Help! My house is being held hostage! Someone call 9-1-1! Whatever was going on in the mind of the person who planned out this job (Although doubtful there was much of a planning stage. More likely, "grab a beer and some stucco and let's go!") one thing can be guaranteed: someone happened on a rummage sale at the church. "All windows must go!" They're everywhere. And where they don't fit, plywood will have to do. Perhaps the church-like windows offer hope. Pray for forgiveness.

Hiroshima, Mon Amor

Now, I'm all in favor of mixed marriages. Ebony and ivory. One world. One people. Many gifts from many lands. But sometimes you just have to admit when it's not working. There may just be built-in tensions. Her family was in a Japanese internment camp. His family put them there. Maybe it wasn't meant to be after all. Maybe the karma isn't right and the chakras are the wrong color. I don't know much about feng shui, but you can arrange your vases all you want and stick them in your power corner and you're not going to erase this house's strong sense of ugly. Separately, the two halves of this house may work. Together, they say "we hate each other." In fact this house is saying "We hate ourselves. You think you don't like this house. Try and live here. You try and be comfortable traipsing around in a kimono and high-button shoes." They may have tried to make it work once. I mean how many Victorian homes have you seen topped by Japanese tile? Or spare Japanese facades slathered in stucco? But the magic ended, the music stopped and they just decided to coexist in mutual hostility. This is the Kim Basinger / Alec Baldwin of houses. Next thing you know one half of this house is going to release an audio tape of the other half of this house calling their architect a "pig". That would be bad. Accurate, but bad.