[Talented psychic please insert number here] days remain until my house is foreclosed upon.  I’m standing in line for tickets to what promises to be the foreclosure event of the season.   I’ve been standing in line for months and have no idea when I’ll reach the ticket booth.  Other than a daily, automated phone call from my lender reminding me I’m behind on my mortgage payments, we’re incommunicado.  Supposedly or allegedly I may or may not be under consideration for loan modification and my file is simply part of a backlogged system… for the past 7 ½ months.  I know, I can’t believe it’s been that long.  This just gets stranger by the week.  I’d suspect the cat of calling Bank of America to plead for continued delays of the inevitable but his lack of opposable thumbs makes the endeavor almost impossible.  He could use Skype though.  Hmmm…  I wonder…  Nah, Bank of America puts calls on hold for at least twenty minutes.  He’d fall into a nap way before ever making human contact.

Over the past few weeks I accidentally cleaned and organized every square inch of the house.  There are nooks and crannies that have never seen the light of a rag with cleaning solution and would normally never need to but because I’m somewhat of a Felix Unger with a just touch of Eddie Haskell I couldn’t resist.  And then I took it a step further; I unpacked some of the glassware I packed up months ago when I thought foreclosure was just around the corner.  That’s dangerous.  It can lead to entertaining people in the house, which is a big fat no-no when it comes to attempting a state of Zen through foreclosure.  It’s not the falling back in love with the house I’m worried about when entertaining guests.  I know all of this temptress’ tricks to lull me into a forbidden tryst with her and can deftly fend off her advances.  What bugs the hell out of me is the uncomfortable and embarrassing silence that will linger after an invited guest compliments me on the house.  I do not know how to respond to such flattery while facing foreclosure.  A simple thank you feels too much like prevaricating and yet divulging my entire foreclosure situation is a conversation morass I’d rather not drag my ass through (or anyone else’s for that matter).  If only I hadn’t remodeled the house leaving no floorboard or trim piece unturned none of this would be an issue.  Oh, and making my mortgage payments, there’s that too.

This past week I did the unthinkable.  I entertained people at the house.  I even cooked.  What was I thinking?!  I do not know.  That’s just the way I roll, with no foresight into the potential hazards that lie in wait (pun intended).  Rushing out to buy a house at the height of the housing boom apparently didn’t learn me.  Perhaps this week's experience of hosting guests while being the Artful Dodger of compliments will.  As a public service to myself and others (but mostly to myself) I’ve come up with a list of ten different solutions to the problem of dealing with compliments on your house while you’re in foreclosure.

TOP TEN WAYS TO RESPOND WHEN SOMEONE SAYS, “I LOVE YOUR HOUSE” AND YOU’RE IN FORECLOSURE:

1. “Why thank you.  In a few months you can purchase it from my lender for a pittance of what it’s worth… but you’ll have to let me stay here… in the attic… where I keep the bodies… and my collection of Star Wars figures.”
2. “And it's got WiFi!  If only I could get someone to read my gmail emails besides the Chinese government and that wacky Mr. Ahmadinejad...  I get so lonely sometimes in this house.  So very lonely.  Maybe it’s finally time to adopt that eighth cat.  Would you care for an Ambrosia-filled Deviled Egg topped with Easy Cheese?”
3. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” as you turn on the blender, dishwasher and microwave – all at once.  The only better way to kill a conversation is to crap your pants on the spot.  I suggest trying the clamorous appliances first.  
4. “I know, it feels so spacious right? I might plan the Blackwater appeals trial in my living room...  Law degree?  No, I don’t have one of those.  Is that what I need to completely screw up a prosecution?  It is?  Hmmm… Darn.”
5. “You think this is nice wait ‘til I give you the tour of the automatic cat litter box.”
6. “Would you like a souvenir from the house?  Here.  Here’s a stainless steel dishwasher.  Better yet, if you have access to a freight helicopter feel free to take the pool… and the front steps.  Oh hell, you can have the retaining wall too.  But the wooly mammoth encased in the tar pit under the garage is where my generosity ends.  I’m taking that with me when I go.”
7. “Oh, the house isn’t mine… really… well… it sort of is.  Shit, I don’t know anymore.  How about those Ambrosia-filled Deviled Eggs topped with Easy Cheese?  You look like you could use another.”   This is otherwise known as the Compliment Fillibuster.
8. "You like the bathroom? You should’ve seen it with the sink and toilet... before I sold them on craigslist."
9. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in?”  And then stare at your cat who will undoubtedly miscontrue the joke and stare back at you in silence.  Silence is infectious.  It is also golden in these situations.
10. And finally, if all else fails simply collapse to the floor and fake your own death.

I don’t know about you but I feel armed and ready to have another go at hosting people at my soon-to-be-foreclosed house.  And don’t think for a second I won’t throw a HUGE farewell bash at the house when the time comes.  OSers will be the first invited.