Michael and I decided to move into together over a year ago. At that time, neither of us had divested ourselves of the houses we had with our soon-to-be former spouses. I was about to, though the upshot of that wasn't going to be buying me a pad in Piedmont or, say, El Cerrito any time soon. Michael was a ways off from selling his, too, so we went ahead an rented a house in Oakland, in a perfect spot for our commutes. He goes left, I go right, and it was all very convenient.
The house is nice, surrounded by those often deadly but lovely Monterey pines. The backyard--which is inaccessible during the rainy months unless you like to surf downhill in mud--is full of oak trees. My office looks out at oak and redwood trees, and I watch birds when I should be writing novels.
Despite the fact that the foundation seems to be losing its grip on the building, the electricity is like a spook-house set up, the plumbing has been a constant irritation, and the floors all creak, we like living here. We fantasize about what we would do to it could we do it, but it doesn't look like we will have the chance.
We thought we might like to buy this house, but our landlords--who moved out of state just before we moved in--don't have a clear grasp on the housing market. They want to break even on the house, and even get the money back that they put into their house three years ago in a vastly different housing market.
Break even? I guess they haven't been following the economy too closely. Both Michael and I have been squeezed and poked by he Bay Area housing market in the past year, and it hurts. If you can get out with your clothes on your back, you are lucky.
So this week, we are going to be commencing a house search. We will get our agent to find us what we want, and we will spend months looking for a house that will work--only to be outbid. We will move on to another. It will be, as they say, a barrel full of monkeys worth of fun. And then, I hope, we will move. If any one is listening, I want to say, I will NOT be moving again, until they cart me out on a stretcher. I have had it will address changes and toting couches to and fro.
What frightens me most is having to give my mother new directions to yet another house. The new house will make if four places in three years. Mom, I know you are reading this. Get ready.
So, if any of you have a great 3 and 2, with a view and easy access to Highway 24, let me know!
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org