Monday, January 23, 2006
Trading Spaces
So I've started looking to buy a condo.
Not looking at actual condos, mind you -- I've only gotten as far as discussing my highly personal financial information (it's mainly my large investment in faberge eggs that embarrasses me) with a total stranger on the phone. This was a conversation in which I kept saying "Well, I really have no idea what I'm doing with this," so it was a lot of fun for both parties. Now I just have to fill out a bunch of paperwork carefully reporting the credit histories, hobbies, and bizarre sexual predilections of my three hundred closest relatives, and then they might let me look at the back porches of several shanties in Hobotown. It's really quite thrilling.
I've held out on the whole buying thing for a while now, mainly because I really love my apartment. Even if the closet doors won't close all the way and my landlord is dependably MIA, I have a roof deck and beautiful, huge windows, and I'm in no hurry to leave. But the image of me literally flushing money down the toilet has become more and more vivid as the years have gone by, and I just feel like the time has come.
Plus I really want to go gape at other people's homes. I think I'm going to put on a monocle and top hat and pretend I'm an eccentric billionaire looking for a new hedonistic pleasure palace. It'll be a stretch, but I bet I can pull it off.
So I've started looking to buy a condo.
Not looking at actual condos, mind you -- I've only gotten as far as discussing my highly personal financial information (it's mainly my large investment in faberge eggs that embarrasses me) with a total stranger on the phone. This was a conversation in which I kept saying "Well, I really have no idea what I'm doing with this," so it was a lot of fun for both parties. Now I just have to fill out a bunch of paperwork carefully reporting the credit histories, hobbies, and bizarre sexual predilections of my three hundred closest relatives, and then they might let me look at the back porches of several shanties in Hobotown. It's really quite thrilling.
I've held out on the whole buying thing for a while now, mainly because I really love my apartment. Even if the closet doors won't close all the way and my landlord is dependably MIA, I have a roof deck and beautiful, huge windows, and I'm in no hurry to leave. But the image of me literally flushing money down the toilet has become more and more vivid as the years have gone by, and I just feel like the time has come.
Plus I really want to go gape at other people's homes. I think I'm going to put on a monocle and top hat and pretend I'm an eccentric billionaire looking for a new hedonistic pleasure palace. It'll be a stretch, but I bet I can pull it off.
