oh, swoon.

Dream home? Yes, is the answer. This is absolutely everything I’d ever look for in a home. This is one of the oldest homes in our town. It’s gorgeous. I hate prefab, cookie cutter, factory same ol’ same ol’. I want something with history. With ghosts in its bones. Not creepy, scary ones, but the ones that you feel, that someone lived here, that this was their home, that it held them and helped to make them who they were at that time. I really think, that everyone leaves pieces of themselves behind in places that are special to them. I think I have left pieces of myself behind in a few places.

I wish I had money. Can I win the lottery? I’ve never played. Maybe I’ll play tomorrow. Can some secret relative die and give me all their money? Can I sell a painting for $200,000?

I’ve always ached for a home more than anything. I never had one, I know this is why. I feel teary and nostalgic just thinking of this. I hate thinking of things I know it is impossible for me to ever have. Alex and I always say that we’ll never have a home of our own. But, oh, how I wish. How I can hear footsteps in the empty rooms.

(This house is actually about 1/2 a block away from our old house that I was in love with.)

While I would change some color schemes, and some minor things, like that one tiny room down there with the bricks and concrete (Do you think it’s the room that that long tall staircase leads to on the left side of the house?) and those sinks in the huge bathroom, boo! (I left out a few photographs like, the laundry room and the attic area that they were remodeling, it seemed.) And oh, I’d put a mail slot right in the door (I loved having that). But, oh, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? Crystal door knobs, the wood, the detailing, that little curvature at the top of the stairs, the fire places, the windows the molding, the porches. Etc . . .

A million stars, 11:11, dandelions, eyelashes, birthday candles, fireflies . . .

On a quiet street.

Today, I walked/drove around town for a little over two hours taking pictures of things like buildings, etc. super up close for this “Where in the world?” project for mystery summer at the library. As I was driving around I saw a little side street that I realized, I’d driven by probably hundreds of times and never even noticed. When I got off work, I decided to drive around a bit. I used to do this a lot in neighborhoods in which I’d like to live to see if there were any houses for rent. So, I took this little side street and was excited to see a real estate sign pointing down it because, well, I love houses and obsessing over them. I especially love this if they are old. So, I was excited to find the house at the end of the street, a street with no outlet that ended in houses, but no caldesac, it just ends at door steps, or rather, old concrete stairs that lead up to doorsteps.

This is the house that is for sale:

It is decidedly quaint and charming and slightly expansive. I have come to the conclusion that i like it. So, after I took this loverly photograph, I had to turn around with no caldesac so, I pulled into the driveway across the street from this house and BAM! I didn’t hit anything. But there was a “FOR RENT” sign on the porch post. I parked, got out and pretty much stalked it.

This is the front:

The porch stairs and porch are not n the most spectacular condition, but for some reason, I find this charming. It seems essentially sturdy, needs a paint job. I don’t know if you can tell, but those windows in that little nook that juts out are delightful, they have a pattern in them.

It has a fireplace and more delightful windows!

Window ACs are not so happy. But it is what I have now. Also UPSTAIRS, ooh. Also, A HOUSE.

This is the other side, the left side:

I’ve decided that since the gate is open and there is an odd red orb that it is haunted. Another plus! Ghosts fascinate me. I did not walk into the fenced back yard. Alex would have and he would have called me a pussy for not doing it and grabbed my hand and pulled me back there.

It also has creepy basement windows. I don’t think I could go into the basement. Our old house had a basement and it scared the begeezus out of me.

Gorgeous tree:

I fell in love with the outside, as I often do with places. The sign said that it had new appliances and had been remodeled. I hope this means kitchen and bath which are nearly always the downfall of old and beautiful places. I called about it, no one answered. I left a message. I hope they call back. Because even if I can’t afford it, I require to see its interior. And, well, whatta youknow, MAYBE I CAN afford it.

A girl can dream.

Make me a bird.

I desire almost more than anything to have ONE, that’s right, a SINGULAR job. It is preferred that said job is FULL TIME with BENEFITS. The opportunity for such a thing nearly fell into my lap, at the library. I say nearly because it turns out that they made a suggestion of an offer to another person before I had a chance to express any interest. And, when the person who had resigned had done so less than 24 hours previous. This person is NOT more qualified than me nor do they have any sort of seniority over me. None the less, she is still interested. Now, we both have to formally interview for the job where as before it would have been a sweet little chat before they said, “Mia, we love you, please do this job and take our free medical insurance and some paid vacation.” So, the thought of this makes me want to cry, honestly. In a perfect world, they would look at all I have done for them for nearly three years and what I continue to do even though I was supposed to be gone TWO MONTHS ago. I’m still there, working just as many hours, just as hard. Because I care? Because I’m stupid? Because I’m trying to kill myself? Because without too many tasks than is feasibly possible for one person to keep up with I have time to think about things that are really wrong in my life and I’d rather not? All of the above, ma’am.

I am so frustrated because, this person who is married, with a husband who has insurance and a good income and already has a full time job doesn’t need this as much as I do. I need this.

I am setting myself up for disappointment, however. Because, what is just and good does not always triumph. I am used to doing things the hard way. I am used to running my ass off and working 60 hours a week. I am used to being tired. I am used to having nothing. So, worst case scenario, nothing changes. I can deal with that.

I wish I was of the school of “everything happens for a reason.” But, I’m just not. God, fate, destiny? I couldn’t say. Always being royally fucked? Check.

(I want to feel free.)