Top 5 Reasons I Love My New House
Its Top 5 Friday and I know this isn't a normal Top 5. Now, I realize I've been a little single-threaded with the house thing lately, but that's been my life for the past week and half. Bear with me a while longer, and we'll get back to the good stuff. So for now...
5. Space, The Final Frontier
I have a huge garage. I have a junk room again. At least for now. Lots of closet space (including a massive walk-in that even fits all my clothes and shoes. Shut up, I'm not gay, I'm metro). A room I have no idea what to do with. When all is said and done, I'll have an exercise room, a spare bedroom, an office loft...and still have that room I have no idea what to do with. What the fuck do you do with a family room if you don't have a family? Pool table? Bar area? Shrine to Halle Berry? Hmm...
4. Coolness Factor
You know, that intangible feeling you get that just makes you look and say, sweet. Its that feeling. Same feeling I felt when I first looked at the house. Its the loft. Its the slatted wood above the fireplace and mantle. Its the cool ass plum color in the living room. Its the built in bookcases. Its the little landscaping jobby-do by the walk to the front door. Its the natural wood stain inside that's just perfect. Its the fucking acoustics in the living room that turns my sweet ass home entertainment system into a concert hall.
3. It Isn't An Apartment
Apartments blow chunks. This past 7 months in the shithole I've called home has been, shall we say, less than desirable. I mean, during my time with MZ, I didn't spend a whole lot of time there, but the past three months, I've come to resent apartment living in ways I couldn't imagine. I've been in a house since 1996, and apartment living had become a foreign concept to me. I'll talk to two examples of why I was always just a stone's throw away from going postal during these past three months. One, parking. People don't know how to park, that much is a given...any trip to the grcery store or mall will tell you that. However, when I go home, I don't want to deal with assholes who don't know how to park. Don't even mention the 3 door dings I've noticed. Two, people above you and next to you. Now, I'm going to qualify this as saying I'm a man of unequivocal patience and understanding. The tenants above me consisted of a single mom, her 15 year old son, her 8 year old son, and her 12 year old autistic daughter. That said, I can only deal with so much. Apparently, the daughter liked to spend her free time doing bellyflops from her bed onto the floor. I'm talking about all night...all day during the weekend. Oh. My. God. I never said anything...always ended up dealing with it or going somewhere, but it scarred my soul.
2. Location, Location, Location
The oft heard line from realtors around the globe. This place has it. I am across the street from a lake with a walking/running trail. I am across the street for the coolest little music venue in the Triangle, affording me the opportunity to sit on my deck, crack open an adult libation, and listen to someone like Jack Johnson. I am next door to the Cary Greenways (you know, for whenever I get my mountain bike). I am exactly 4 minutes away from shopping and 3 minutes away from the Draft House. I am closer to family and friends. Choice between Cary and Apex for shopping or restaurants. Easy access to the beltline. Choice of three decent nearby coffeeshops.
1. Its Mine
I was ok paying $650 a month for a two bedroom apartment because it afforded me the chance to save up some money. That said, its still throwing money out the window. Now I realize that as I'm paying interest on this house, its basically the same thing, but at least I get to write it off on my taxes. The equity and appreciation on the house are obviously financial benefits not realized in an apartment, so despite paying almost double what I paid at the apartment, my wallet will thank me in a few years. So that's just the practical side of having my own place. I now have a place where I can hang pictures. Decorate. Garden. (I feel like Ty -fucking- Pennington) I have a place that I can do what the hell I want to, when the hell I want to, how the hell I want to. If I want to paint a wall black, I can do it. If I want to hang my 1982 Farrah Fawcett poster in my office, I can do it. In the past eight years, I haven't really had a place that was mine, to do with what I wanted to do, in each room, outside, whenever, whereever. I do now and I relish the fact that I am home.
5. Space, The Final Frontier
I have a huge garage. I have a junk room again. At least for now. Lots of closet space (including a massive walk-in that even fits all my clothes and shoes. Shut up, I'm not gay, I'm metro). A room I have no idea what to do with. When all is said and done, I'll have an exercise room, a spare bedroom, an office loft...and still have that room I have no idea what to do with. What the fuck do you do with a family room if you don't have a family? Pool table? Bar area? Shrine to Halle Berry? Hmm...
4. Coolness Factor
You know, that intangible feeling you get that just makes you look and say, sweet. Its that feeling. Same feeling I felt when I first looked at the house. Its the loft. Its the slatted wood above the fireplace and mantle. Its the cool ass plum color in the living room. Its the built in bookcases. Its the little landscaping jobby-do by the walk to the front door. Its the natural wood stain inside that's just perfect. Its the fucking acoustics in the living room that turns my sweet ass home entertainment system into a concert hall.
3. It Isn't An Apartment
Apartments blow chunks. This past 7 months in the shithole I've called home has been, shall we say, less than desirable. I mean, during my time with MZ, I didn't spend a whole lot of time there, but the past three months, I've come to resent apartment living in ways I couldn't imagine. I've been in a house since 1996, and apartment living had become a foreign concept to me. I'll talk to two examples of why I was always just a stone's throw away from going postal during these past three months. One, parking. People don't know how to park, that much is a given...any trip to the grcery store or mall will tell you that. However, when I go home, I don't want to deal with assholes who don't know how to park. Don't even mention the 3 door dings I've noticed. Two, people above you and next to you. Now, I'm going to qualify this as saying I'm a man of unequivocal patience and understanding. The tenants above me consisted of a single mom, her 15 year old son, her 8 year old son, and her 12 year old autistic daughter. That said, I can only deal with so much. Apparently, the daughter liked to spend her free time doing bellyflops from her bed onto the floor. I'm talking about all night...all day during the weekend. Oh. My. God. I never said anything...always ended up dealing with it or going somewhere, but it scarred my soul.
2. Location, Location, Location
The oft heard line from realtors around the globe. This place has it. I am across the street from a lake with a walking/running trail. I am across the street for the coolest little music venue in the Triangle, affording me the opportunity to sit on my deck, crack open an adult libation, and listen to someone like Jack Johnson. I am next door to the Cary Greenways (you know, for whenever I get my mountain bike). I am exactly 4 minutes away from shopping and 3 minutes away from the Draft House. I am closer to family and friends. Choice between Cary and Apex for shopping or restaurants. Easy access to the beltline. Choice of three decent nearby coffeeshops.
1. Its Mine
I was ok paying $650 a month for a two bedroom apartment because it afforded me the chance to save up some money. That said, its still throwing money out the window. Now I realize that as I'm paying interest on this house, its basically the same thing, but at least I get to write it off on my taxes. The equity and appreciation on the house are obviously financial benefits not realized in an apartment, so despite paying almost double what I paid at the apartment, my wallet will thank me in a few years. So that's just the practical side of having my own place. I now have a place where I can hang pictures. Decorate. Garden. (I feel like Ty -fucking- Pennington) I have a place that I can do what the hell I want to, when the hell I want to, how the hell I want to. If I want to paint a wall black, I can do it. If I want to hang my 1982 Farrah Fawcett poster in my office, I can do it. In the past eight years, I haven't really had a place that was mine, to do with what I wanted to do, in each room, outside, whenever, whereever. I do now and I relish the fact that I am home.
posted by sethro at 11:00:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home