I was never so happy as the day I purchased my first home. It was three years ago, just as the market started to turn. People were losing their homes, and by some small miracle, I bought mine. It’s a tiny place with barely enough closet space for all my shoes. There was nothing in dire need of improvement—it wouldn’t fall down if the termites stopped holding hands when one of them sneezed—but I still changed a few things to make it my own. In the words of Luther Vandross, “a house is not a home.“ I had to make it a home. Now I have the nicest, tiniest home on the block.
I am so happy and so proud of my home, and even more proud of myself for somehow being able to convince a bank to lend me the money while the rest of the world was defaulting on their loans. I have re-financed twice since then, and now I can almost afford the payments—I can always sell the shoe collection!
When I think about sharing my future with someone, I think about building a home together. I think about Luther’s words:
I don’t know if all women are like me, but I take great pride in making a house (or apartment) a home. While I think it’s exciting to start from scratch and build something, I also think it must be horrendously overwhelming. Where do you start? Do you go for the Miele stainless refrigerator or a clear front Sub Zero? Do you get a Wolf Range or will a Viking do? And what about the bathroom? Shower? Tub? Silver travertine tile? Where does it start and where does it end?
Every once in a while I go house shopping, even though I can’t afford to upgrade. I do it for inspiration. To ignite the dreamer in me and keep myself motivated. I think of this old Faberge Organic Shampoo commercial from the 70s with Heather Locklear. If everyone who reads my blog buys a copy of my book and they tell two friends, and so on and so on, and suddenly my novel is on the New York Times best seller list, and everyone who reads the New York Times buys a copy and so on and so on, and Hollywood makes a TV series based on the book, and so on and so on, and I become the next Candace Bushnell then maybe—just maybe—if the universe is kind, someday I might be able to buy my dream home.
Last week, after a long day of stuffing gift bags to hand out at the gifting suites for the 63rd Annual Emmys, I went for a walk to visit a girlfriend of mine at her open house. Yes, she’s a real estate agent. No, the character of Chloe from my book is not based on her. This is when I saw it: my dream home. At only $1,729,000, this two bedroom, three bathroom, 1800 square foot home is pure perfection, from the Fleetwood ultra smooth-sliding glass doors, blond oak floors, and kupperbusch dishwasher and kitchen vent, to the herb garden and lemon trees just off the kitchen and beautiful guest house out back. The current owners have a showroom at the Pacific Design Center, so the house is beautifully staged making it all the more dreamy.
The success of my novel can’t come soon enough! Oh, please writing gods, please help me buy my dream home, or help me find a man more successful than I, so we can buy that dream home together… a beautiful home, like the one I saw the other day. With lots of room for shoes!
Am I the only woman who dreams about making a house a home? Tell me about your dream home? And be sure to check out LeslieLAHomes and tell me what you think of mine.