real estate

I just finished reading Meghan Daum's latest book "Life Would Be Perfect If I Lived In That House." I think I gave it 4 stars on Goodreads. Actually, that's not true. About half-way through the book I was still in the two star zone but last few chapters made some excellent points, thus the inflated stars.

Meghan Daum is my soul sister in that she's moved nearly as many times as I have (if anyone's keeping track I moved three times in the 16 months since I moved to Massachusetts). While I've been busy flitting from coast to coast, searching for a city to call home, Daum has flitted from apartment to farm house to sublet trying to find the perfect house. She's obsessed with real estate and decorating, spending obscene amounts of money in order to achieve a "look" that will make her house perfect and thus her life perfect. To some extent I get this. I get this in the way that, to quote Ani DeFranco, "you know I have left everywhere I have ever been" because I too am always searching for a city that makes me want to stay. It's only recently have I figured out that it's not just the city streets and the city feel that make me want to stay but it's also the people in those cities who make me feel like I'm home. Both parts are equally important, a great city can shelter me from the fact that I am alone but it can also emphasize how lonely a place can be when you have an awesome city with no one to share it with.

I don't think I am alone in feeling once you buy your first home you become slightly obsessed with real estate. You wonder if you made the right choice, if another house wouldn't be better. I've taken many many many long walks around my neighborhood dreaming and fantasizing. I like the neighborhood that's immediately down the block from where I live. It's pretty quiet and I always see kids out playing or people walking their dogs or doing yard work. I see these tableaus and I pine for the houses in my neighborhood. The town I'm living in is divided into three different real estate areas. In the east end are the two family and multi-family houses. In the center of town are the huge expensive houses that may or may not be multi-family. In my area are the duplexes and little cottage houses. I fantasize about owning one of these one-family cottages and work out elaborate schemes about how I'd get some neighborhood kid to mow the lawn.

The condo complex I live in has 10 buildings with 11 units in each building. Directly across the street is another 6 or 7 rental buildings, each with 11 units apiece. There are a lot of people packed into my little block. I knew buying the place it wasn't what I wanted and it still isn't. If fit my criteria in exactly one place - I could (barely) afford it. It is so far from what I want it's not even on the radar. There are way too many people packed in to such a small space. There are so many cars parked in the lots and on the street that it's hard for me to leave my own parking space. The neighbors I share walls with smoke so my kitchen and bathroom always smell like smoke. If my downstairs neighbor douses herself in perfume one more time and leisurely ambles through the hallway, leaving her scent in her wake one more time . . . And I live in a box. Other than cosmetic changes there is nothing I can do to the place to make it mine. It is exactly like every other apartment in every other complex I've lived in and I hate it. For the most part I've made peace with the fact that it's serving it's purpose and will get me through grad school but I'd be lying if I said I didn't send off the mortgage check every month with a quick calculation of how many more payments I have to make before I can sell it (31).

The cottages are adorable. Some have garages, some don't. Some are one floor and some might have a second floor bedroom. They're tiny, perfect for one or two or three people but a tight squeeze for most people who've come to accept the "bigger is better" real estate mantra. There's some yard space, but not a lot. The houses are pretty close together so you're in your own space but it's not like no one else is out there. And I want one of these houses. Badly. But I know if I bought one (and this is purely fantasy talking - there's no way I could ever afford one now unless it had been struck by a meteor and the owner really wanted to sell) the novelty would wear off and shortly thereafter I'd be looking to buy a different house. It would be like moving to a new city - in my metaphor the house is the city. I am still the same person no matter where I live and if I can't find peace within myself, no city and no house will ever be right. This is the point Daum makes at the end of her book and I completely get it. Self-awareness, however, is one thing, actually knowing how to find peace and then doing it is quite another.