Ergo; S and I were trolling about some new neighborhoods looking to score another house. Which naturally, because it was in a good neighborhood and in a good location was a bit run down. God put houses on the earth to flout me. I firmly believe that. I discovered in the course of looking at the house that you can come to two separate opinions about a house depending on the type of glasses you're wearing.
S: The house has mold in the basement. I don't even know what to do about mold. It gives children asthma...
M: I look at it as an opportunity to furnish neighborhood teens with psychedelic drugs. Scientists aren't even sure what a lot of these molds can do. Why can't we be the ones to find out.
S: Why is a random nail sticking out of the bathroom wall? This place just looks unfinished.
M: That's the beauty of it. It's kind of like playing that great game Carmen San Diego that most kids of our generation played. Why the hell was she spelunking? Who spelunks? Anyhow, now we just have this nail in the wall, which can act as an interesting conversation piece.
S: This kitchen is depressing. Why didn't they put the sink in front of the window?
M: This kitchen is unique. They've positioned the sink for optimum viewing of the grouting on your wall. I'm not sure what that is, but it seems like something you might want to take a look at while you're basting lamb.
S: Cries.
M:Let's put in an offer.
Falling action. Yet another disagreement about what constitutes a "good house." Which leads me to go for a long walk and look into rich people's homes and not ask myself if they like their homes per se, but rather, if they are happy. I keep asking myself this on every house I pass. "Are they happy?" I see a lot of empty homes and a couple of people spending time on the Interent just like I do. Do you really need granite counters to enjoy doing the things you normally do? Is my browsing experience increased by sitting on a couch from Crate and Barrel vs. Ikea? The real yet not explicit question is the degree to which I spend my time doing the things that will make me "happy." I don't think I have a real interest in doing things that will make me truly happy but rather the things that I'm familiar/comfortable with. And how much are these things are increased/decreased by the purchase of a home. We're rather adept as human beings at unhappiness. What hope do I have in purchasing a home and expecting it to change anything? Somebody hit me over the head with some granite right now.
Remember this guy.
I hated this guy. Everything he did was annoying. Penny and Brain did all the f-ing work and he constantly blew his boss up with those damn papers. Why didn't his boss hide somewhere besides the nearest trash can? That man needed e-mail. Anyhow, Inspector Gadget serves to illustrate my point above. Did I watch about 200 episodes of Inspector Gadget? Yes, I did. Does he frickin suck? Yes. He does. Then why did I watch him? Habit. Just looking at his picture above is making me sick.
The best part of missing a Housing Blog post one day is that you get to read two, back-to-back, when you realize your mistake. Sweet, sweet sorrow.
ReplyDeleteSometimes you just have to take charge. No dear, the noose in the basement was most likely a failed attempt at art. I'm sure no one died down there. Of COURSE there were chalk drawings on the floor, where do you expect children to play? In the syringe field out back? Do you know how embarrassed I would be if I accidentally hit my own son with the lawn mower because he was face-down in knee-high grass all drugged up on second-hand shooters?
Whenever Caitlin is feeling sad because we're about to spend a lot of money on a bad decision, I like to cheer her up by reminding her that one day, we'll probably spend more money on an even worse decision, and isn't she glad we're not being all that foolish today? I'm thinking about starting an online counseling firm. I'm sure I'd be very good at it.
I'm already kind of cheered up. Thanks Josh!
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