I had forgotten how much house hunting is like adolescence.
You hear about a house you might like. You drive by and your interest is encouraged. But only a bit.* You turn around to stop and stare. Well, you stare while trying very hard to look like you aren't staring. You whisper to your friends.**
So you write your realtor a little note to say that you like so-and-so and what should you do about it? Should you say hi? Or should you join the drama club? The realtor promises to introduce you and you set the date. And then you get nervous. What if it's all a huge mistake? What if you don't like the house? At all? Can you just run through, open a closet door or two, flush the toilet to make it look like you are really trying and beat a hasty retreat? But what if you love the house? What will you do then? What if some other admirer is making an offer RIGHT NOW? Oh the jealousy. Or the revulsion.
Slowly, unwittingly you fall in love. The doorknobs are cute. The windows wink at you. The crazy little nooks make you smile. But there aren't really enough bedrooms. There is a dining room, and you hate dining rooms. And the house is worth more than you can manage. You blush and sneak out. But you think about the house. A lot. You imagine yourself there. You imagine yourself not there. You wonder about renovating. You think it just might work.
Just like that, the house is gone. No more dreams. No cute doorknobs. No mysterious attic. But there is this other house you heard about...
I feel thirteen. And awkward. And heartbroken.***
And it's been one day.
*Did you know that the real estate listing sites will give you directions to a house but not the address? So they get you practically there, but then force you to drive up and down the street like some untrustworthy type until you recognize the house. Odd.
**My friends du jour happen to be K., one funny three-year-old, and a very cryptic one-year-old.
***Honestly, the house was lovely. Built in 1925. The garage used to be horse stables, and there are horsey things hanging about. There are real doorknobs! A lovely screened in porch! A fireplace! (And it's not ugly!) It's charming. With a big, lovely yard. In a fabulous little town. Gah. I'm infatuated, infatuated I tell you. At least until I see the next house.
Posted by grrlTravels at April 23, 2006 4:46 PMGood luck house hunting...it is fun, for awhile. Ughh. I hate dining rooms too. Wasted space in my mind. Hope you find something beautiful that you love.
Posted by: sonja at April 23, 2006 6:40 PMIt is so hard! I'm trying to find one I like now too and another part that kills me is all the driving my guy wants to do. Um, have you seen gas prices honey? We are picking were to go, no wandering! Plus what if the perfect house is on the next block? And what's up with every house being the same? Nobody seems to have interesting designs, just squares and brick, lots of brick. Blah.
Posted by: nic at April 23, 2006 8:01 PMMe (to the real estate agent): You know our house needs to be somewhat...eclectic. I don't want any old house.
REA: Yes, yes I know. (smiling)
K.: She wants to live in an extreme home. We need something different. Not normal.
REA: Yes, yes I know you two. Don't worry--I won't show you any regular houses.
Me (driving home, past neighborhoods full of THOSE houses): She'd better not try to show us something in here. You know, if she drives us down this street I'll just tell her to turn right around. etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum.
K.: Don't worry. You told her and I told her and I think she understands.
Me: She'd better.
So I hear you, nic. I hear you.
Dining room: same with us! We got this combo eat-in-kitchen with enough space for people to dine in it.
I believe that your true Soul-Mate-House is still out there. Isn't that what people say when someone you crush on is taken or doesn't reciprocate? If there are other fish in the sea, then there are other houses on the street!
(Is my optimism sickening? I'm trying to be positive, but I'm not very good at it. Sorry!)
Posted by: chel at April 23, 2006 9:43 PMExtreme houses! Yes! Me too. OK, I don't really want to live in a tree house. Not a good choice with little kids. I want different--er unique too. I get it.
Winking windows. I love that.
The night we made the offer on the house we hope to buy, O. said he was enamored of the house. It's moved on to love for us soon after. You'll find your sweetheart house too. I can't wait to hear about it when you do!
Posted by: Tracie at April 23, 2006 10:39 PMAmy, what a great post. You're completely right!
Posted by: c at April 24, 2006 10:06 AMOh yes. Extreme houses. You don't tell them what to do, they tell you. It's a rather one sided relationship at first, but at some point the pendulum tips and you realize you weren't quite as crazy as you thought. That being said, I have a wandering eye. I like to know what's out there, but we always return home and realize that this really is the place for us. Good luck in finding your house mate!!