Step 2

As I sat down to start writing this entry, I thought first that it's 8 days overdue, but I was so damned sick last week that I just never got to it. Now I am thinking that it actually is the right time to write it after all. You'll see why.

Anyway, last Sunday I went neighbor-hood scouting, disguised as house-hunting. My buddy who is a mortgage broker hooked me up with a way cool real estate agent who also sold my buddy I and his partner their house about two years ago. So, SHG and I went out with her to look at some neighborhoods and get a feel for prices etc. It was amusing at first, she was trying to figure out who was in charge! But SHG quickly made a comment like "This will be really good for me too since I will be in the market for a house in a few months," so that was cleared up.

Anyway, it was good fun and I got what I needed out of it. The neighborhoods for me will be Idyllwood or the Heights. It turns out that Eastwood is just not far enough along in being fixed up for me to cope with, as in I am not about to take on a project house. I can't even take on a house that is 85% done. I need something 95% done...and then I will probably pay somebody to do the rest. I may be good with a tool, but I am not very handy.

Montrose has gone out of my price range - no single-family homes out there for less than $245K. Whoops. Something similar is also going on in Old Sixth Ward. And we got Rice Military out of my system as well: all tall townhouses with a few very sad houses in between that are destined to be torn down in favor of further monstrosity creation. What always happens when I look for a house - this will be my third house and fifth major shopping campaign - is that I wind up dazed and confused. "Which one had the red room?", "Which one had the big garage?", "Which one had the mold problem?" And I start calling houses by funny names, but they mean things to me:

Cranky guy house
Bad Ju Ju house, aka Cujo House
First House in Eastwood
First House in Montrose
Red dining room house
Sagging problem house
The sad house
Funky porch house
The drippy house
 

I have a hard time picturing my junk in a house that has furniture in it. Apparently, I am different from most people: Houses that are furnished sell faster and for more $ than ones that are vacant. Well, good for me - my pad will certainly not be vacant once it is on the market. Anyway, I function better looking at an empty house. SHG does not have this problem. Example: This one place in Idyllwood. Very nice. Layout all wrong for my zoo, and the driveway was not boat-friendly. But the little gay man that owned it had it FULL of antiques. It looked like three estate sales were shoved into this thing. I just overloaded and said "No". SHG could see past it all and make a rational evaluation of "could work" for him. I just said "antiques road show hell" and wandered off.

So this gets to why today is appropriate for entering Step 2 here. My agent is coming over to go through my house with me, and help me with what to do to sell it, e.g. which areas need new carpet, what I am fixing, showing her the features that I think will help sell it (3 car peg board-lined garage with workbench and cabinets!), etc. Repairs on the house are part of Step 3 in the 10 Step Plan, but I forgot to shove "marketing strategy" for the current house into Step 2. So, that's tomorrow afternoon. Step 2, part 2. No, I will not be breaking things down to 2a, 2b, etc.: If I spend too much time organizing and cubby-holing, as good as it feels, I cannot do it at the risk of losing momentum. The process has begun. Must carry through, cannot lose momentum.

Anyway, on Sunday there were two houses that stood out, one in each of the final neighborhood choices. I really liked the one in Idyllwood, but, um, let's just say it needed some masculine-izing...too much middle-aged Hispanic woman influence. And, it had yard issues. And it was on corner with a busy street. And the garage apartment is Hobbit-height. But other than that...

The house in the Heights was good. Nothing outstanding, but a good fit, garage could need some work to fit the boat. But I still have this Heights mental block: too many latte liberals, ersatz "alternative" types, and of course it's the ExxonMobil ghetto. Probably soon to be the Chevron Ghetto as well. But I like it. So I may get over it. Probably should do a property search for names of people I want to avoid. On the other hand, a colleague of mine who I respect highly, and whose opinion I value, poisoned my mind with "Rolf, if you move to the Heights I shall lose all respect for you." Well. That's certainly something.

At the end of the house-shopping day I was pretty much a mental case. Too much information. Too much sensory input. Too much in-and-out of the car. Angie, my agent, pats my shoulder and says "Baby, I think we're done." I think my eyes were glazed over. SHG was in good shape, spent the day providing moral support and biting wit to lighten things up and make me laugh. He's a good mensch.