Our past weekend was spent house hunting in Seattle. And even though I squeezed in some culinary adventures at Fremont's El Camino and Madison Valley's Harvest Vine (thanks to our outstanding realtor Ron for the recco!), our time was spent dealing with such fun items as: square footage, upgrades, gas or electric stoves, resale value, mortgage good faith estimates, loan points, origination fees, earnest money, disclosures, days on the market, rate lock-ins, escrow.......good God, I can't go on anymore. Someone get me a margarita and more of those yummy plantains.
We officially crossed some mythical line in the past 2 weeks. The line where age does not necessarily force your crossing, but life circumstances do. We are buying a home. And, just like getting married over a year ago, it's a line people cross every day all over the world, but when it happens to YOU, you feel like you've been granted access to some secret society. A society where you are now cognizant of the fact that there are "things" behind those walls that you don't understand but for which you are legally responsible (shiver).
Many of my friends in the Midwest - where housing is affordable and does not require you to donate organs or first-borns - crossed this threshold long ago. Some of them even before they got married. And to them I say, "Kudos to you for going through this process when you were so young!" It's scary, dammit!
But we embarked on this journey for a reason and we are very glad of it. I just weep a little inside feeling like another part of my carefree child-like outlook is slipping away as the man behind the curtain of adulthood reveals himself once more. God, our parents made things look so easy, didn't they?
Hmmmm.........on second thought, no way! I'm not going out without a fight. Bring me another purple hooter shot and let's watch some college sports!!! And if we get too loud or trash the place, at least the only people who can yell at us is, well, US.
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