Moving Again?

Honey, we're moving again? You've got job applications out all over the country? I'm going to start looking again, then. This time we'll find the perfect nest for our family. 

For Sale: Idiocy

There is something Escher-esque about this place. I can't quite tell what it is, but something makes the atmosphere in here seem like I might fall over for no reason at all. Is it the leopard-print light globes? No, it is not. It's not the countertops, either. It's something else. It's strange, the ambiance in here. The den seems simultaneously lifted and yet strangely shallow, as if the ceilings were designed with short people in mind. In fact, the more I look at it, it seems as if I would whang my head into the ceiling over there by the fireplace. The whirring ceiling fan looks like it could chop my head off! Why'd they hang it so low?

Ohh, my gosh. Oh, oh oh. Oh my goodness. Good heavens. Are you seeing what I'm seeing? It's not that the ceiling fan is low. It's that the fireplace is high. Is that...is that a floating fireplace? What the heck is up with that? Who wants a fireplace hearth floating 12 inches off the floor? Who wants a fireplace mantel that is as high as the tops of the windows? What the hell is this?

Honey, I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that this house will still be standing unsold a year from now. That floating fireplace is the stupidest looking thing I've seen in a long time. WHY would they do this? I'm thinking the workmen did it wrong and the builder just rubbed his forehead and said, "Someone will buy it. Someone will confuse this mistake with innovation and buy the house anyway." And he may be right. But seriously. Okay, so, now the homeowner has to vacuum under this thing. Also, if there's a toddler in the family, the parents must purchase double the number of hearth bumpers. Thirdly, people are going to try to sit on that. Do you think that thing is strong enough to support the weight of people? It's going to rip right off of the wall, and then the fireplace will look even stupider, probably. What a bad, bad mistake this is.

I'm passing on this house, honey. It is definitely off the list. And every time we drive by it, from now until the end of time, I will wonder about who's living in that house and what they think of this stupid hearth. 

For Sale in Summertime: Fabulous Chandeliers

Darling, sometimes a woman just wants something ~special~ in her house. Something to make it more magnificent, you know? I know we're not made of money. I'm not asking for the Taj Mahal. But some special touches could be nice. Like, have a look at this room, honey. The furniture is average--unusually informal for a formal dining room, in fact--but there's something else, some decor element that really kicks it up a notch despite the pipe-and-velour chairs. It's the chandelier. See how that really adds some flair? And look at that white carpet. One doesn't commit to white carpet unless one knows she is planning on keeping the place pristine. I can keep a house pristine. Shut up.

Anyway, I was thinking, the lady who has put this place up for sale really recognized something awesome in that chandelier, because she has one in the formal den, too.  All the furniture in here is lovely and funky. Kind of sad that formal dens are going the way of the Dodo. That chandelier is like the ice cubes in the bourbon, isn't it? I think I love these chandeliers. And white carpet in here, too. I wonder how pristine the dog's paws are after he comes in from the yard. Well, the carpets are probably scotch-guarded, right?

Wow. Yes, I admit it: I'm surprised by this. A crystal chandelier in the kitchen nook? And with gold accents, too. That really is a bit decadent, isn't it? Hmm. Yes, I agree, honey. That might be one chandelier too many. Sure, sure. If we buy this house, you can take that one down.

Oh, for crying out loud. A chandelier in the bedroom? Well, it looks like it was a child's bedroom. Little girls often love that frilly, princessy stuff. I mean, she was probably so enamored by the chandeliers in the common rooms that she begged for one for in here. We'll ask our child if she wants it. If not, by all means, take it down. It has just occurred to me that someone has to dust these things and that someone is me. The fewer intricate glass chandeliers I have to dust, the better.  Plus, how much illumination did this child need? I spy a bedside lamp AND sconces. Are those real sconces with real wax candles in them? I hope the little dear was never allowed to light those.

All right. This is. It's just. Yes. Take it down. In fact, I'm starting to think I want them all to come down. If we make an offer on the house, maybe we should suggest the owner take these with her. I'm starting to think she must be a Chandelier-Maker's Daughter and these things must have sentimental value to her or something.

No, honey, there were no shots of the light fixtures in the bathrooms or kitchen. 

For Sale at Christmastime: Terrifying Fireplace

OH NO! What HAPPENED here? This gives me the heebie-jeebies. What on earth has been incinerated here? It looks like cobwebs but also kind of like someone smashed Grandpa's urn here. Or maybe a whole bunch of Grandpas. It would take more than one broken urn to leave that much dust. I'll tell you what, though. If I were Santa, I'd just skip this place. I wouldn't want to land in that.

For Sale at Christmastime: A New Angle on Life

This house will really change things for us, honey. I can tell. Here, perch on this dining room chair with me. Wait, I want to shove it into the corner first. Now, isn't that a beautiful view of the den? It's the same view the realtor captured in the photos. I could just stand on this chair in this corner for the rest of our lives. 

Come on over here, sweetie. Crouch on the floor behind this potted plant with me and look back over there, where we were. Just think. If this was our home, we could play this little game all day. I'll stand on the chair in the corner and you crouch behind this plant. Oh, you're right. The furniture won't convey. Well, that's okay. We'll have our own furniture and potted plants to climb on and crouch behind. 

Look, a hall bathroom! No, I don't want to see inside of the room. Just knowing it exists is enough. I glimpse a toilet. I'm sure it's fine. If there was anything worth seeing in there, the realtor would have photographed it. Right?

Baby, you can't even imagine the way we're going to contort in order to see our new stairwell from this angle. I'm sure if the realtor could do it, we can too. No, I don't know how to levitate. Shut up; there's got to be a way. Maybe she was balancing on the railing. What? You think her body falling from the railing is probably what caused all that cracking on the floor below? Don't be silly. That tile is done that way on purpose, and if she'd fallen and broken all the bones in her body there's no way she'd have had the willpower to upload all these photos.

And yes, it does seem like a lot of doors and doorways all crammed into one four-foot-square area, now that you mention it.

What a beautiful yard. I think she must have been dangling from the DirecTV satellite. Here, hold my purse; I'm going to try it. What? Let go of me. Oh, shoot. The window-screen is screwed in place. Nevermind. She must have scaled up the outside of the house to get the shot.

No, I don't want to go out into the yard to squat by the air conditioner. It might charge at me. Look at its little cup-legs! I wonder if it is related to R2D2. R2D2 was pretty sensible, wasn't he? If so, that bodes well for this air conditioner.

Final verdict: It's a nice place, honey. I like it. We'd have to repaint some rooms, purchase a tiny palm tree for the den, and possibly never use the bathrooms, but I like it. Put it on the list!

For Sale at Thanksgiving: We Could Make a Life Here

Yeah, man. This is the pad. I mean, the rent is right. Bill used to live in this house, but he's gone now, off adjuncting somewhere, but I'm still here and the Graduate Teaching Assistantship pays the bills, yanowhatimean. Well, my paycheck combined with Susan's, that is.

Yep, this is the place. I can't wait to move my stuff in to this room and start really creating. Look at this space! It's inspiring. Those little windows are awesome. One opens up into nothing--just a piece of board with some cloth hanging over it--and the other one opens into the kitchen. Like a pass-through.  Speaking of passing, can you pass that back to me? Thanks.

Check it: that's my hat. When I wear that hat and shuffle around this house with a whiskey and water in my hand, I get the sensation, you know? The spirit of the writer. Susan insisted on those bedside tables. They're nice, though.

Here's the kitchen. Susan's always saying the cabinets are too low and she can't see what she's doing when she's trying to make things on the countertop. Hey, nothing's perfect, right? And it's not like she's cooking anything complex; I mean, how closely do you have to examine a kale salad? You just throw the stuff in the bowl, really.

Hey, maybe you can settle this debate. Do you think that used to be a window, there, in between the other two windows? Susan says yes, but I think it was an artistic choice to design the wall that way. 

And yes, the piece de resistance: look at this yard. Can you imagine the parties we'll have out here? I have real visions for this piece of land. I'm going to fix up those little toolsheds and rake and get everything set up just perfectly. 

Final Verdict: Honey, remember grad school? It all came back a little too vividly when I looked at the pictures of this house. Let's mark it off the list.

For Sale at Thanksgiving: Let's Feast

Perch here with your loved one and enjoy the festivities of the season. Pinch your plastic cup between your knees as you balance an overloaded paper plate of... Oh, come on; let's stop pretending. You're alone. You don't even have a table. There's nobody perched in that chair next to you and you're eating a Lean Cuisine. It's that time of the year again. Gobble, gobble, blah.

But all hope is not lost. Put your TV dinner on the empty chair next to you, go into the kitchen and use the can opener to pry the lid from some discount kitty food. Slop it into the cat's bowl, and voila! Instant holiday companionship.