Gary and I have indeed started looking at real estate.
People, I would be completely lying to you if I told you that I had been looking forward to this. Gary has been on the condo-purchasing bandwagon for almost a decade, but what with Calgary's whacko housing boom and various life changes he's experienced, it's just never happened. But he really wanted it to happen NOW, so back in January I agreed. We should meet with a Real Estate Agent and get some information on the process, of which I was totally in the dark.
Because honestly, I work in the Arts. People in my industry, my peers - they don't often own their own homes. We're a big swath of secondary-suite renters (CALGARY CITY COUNCIL I'M SO DISAPPOINTED) I'm part of that atrocious generation of 20 somethings that are rapidly bomeranging back into their parents' homes and enjoying an extra decade or so of delayed adolesence. I figured I'd buy a home sometime in my mid to late thirties, if ever. Because obviously when I was making my Grand Master Life Plan back in 2006 I figured that in 2011 I'd be living in Paris, and be super slender and doe-eyed and wear a lot of stripes and naturally bed-rumpledly gorgeous, and be dating really exotic men with accents and drinking a lot of Bordeaux and writing the Great Canadian/Parisian Novel.
But hey! Here we are, and it's 2011, and my Grand Master Life Plan now includes things like a wedding (July 14, 2012!), and baby/ies and RRSPs and car payments. The plan has totally changed - well, minus the bed-rumpledly (questionably gorgeous) bit and the copious amounts of wine, but I now prefer Pinot Noir. And it's totally wicked. It's just not where I thought I'd be when I plotted out Major Life Events on my imaginary little graph o' life.
So I was hesitant. I'd be one hundred percent saying goodbye to Parisian Fantasy Megan. *cue door slamming sound*
So then we met with a Realtor. I figured that would be enough for a few weeks, just kind of dip our toes into the water. But then we started looking at listings. And met with a mortage broker. And got some financial stuff figured out. And then heck, let's start actually looking at property.
The next thing I knew, I was digging through some stranger's medicine cabinet and closets, and it was totally kosher to do so.
And now, the home-purchasing process? IT'S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT, EVER.
I hate HGTV. But now I find myself streaming Property Virgins in the evenings and obsessively flipping over to that channel when I'm on the elliptical. I browse through home and garden magazines. I think about paint swatches. I CONSIDER THE PRICES OF APPLIANCES - and not quesadilla makers, no, I mean the heavyweights.
And surprise, surprise. I am totally gung-ho about the home purchasing process. Hit me. Hit me with more listings. Let's look at condos on Saturday. Let's spend another hour disecting our household budget. Let's talk about what it really means to be house poor. Let's consider our hidden desires to renovate a bathroom (still totally nil). Everything about our current apartment is driving me bat-shit crazy. I WANT TO MOVE. NOW.
It's a rollercoaster, people. And I"m not even going to go into detail about how we found the PERFECT condo and then had to say goodbye to the place, and with it, our dreams.