Oh, sorry, did you think that was a public exclamation? It is in a way, but it's also what's been running through my head all week.
Along with: Oh my god, we bought a house!
Followed closely by: Holy shit, WE bought a house.
The "we" part would pertain to myself and my boyfriend Peter. Also lovingly know as Ginger Snap. (Yes, ladies, I jumped on that red head bandwagon.) Currently we live in a one-bedroom apartment in a converted monastery in Historic Downtown Jersey City. It's small but it's home to us and our mixed breed dog Ernie. Yes, I have to open the the refrigerator to get in the oven. Yes, Pete keeps his clothes in the hallway utility closet outside the bathroom. But it's been my home since I graduated college.
Except for in a month we are moving into a house. Like, a real house. It has multiple bathrooms (okay, they may not be functional, but more on that later) and a place for guests to stay that isn't the floor. Enter the weekly mantra: Oh my god, we bought a house.
Don't get me wrong, I'm super psyched. Guys, this is what I've always wanted! When little girls were making wedding collages I was stealing Pottery Barn catalogs out of the neighbor's mailbox and scrapbooking my dream study. Yes, I was a weird kid. But I had the best imaginary home on the block. And now I have a chance to make that imaginary world a reality.
So what's the hesitation? Well, for one: it needs a LOT of work. And, secondly: I'm a creature of habit. Every week day Pete takes the PATH into the Rockefeller City. I walk to work at the lifestyle shop I own in town. He wears a suit and crunches numbers. I wear ... whatever I find that's not (too) dirty. And I crunch on the glitter on the floor that I forgot to clean up from the previous night's craft class at the shop. We're opposites in that way: I'm small business; he's big business.
But, among many other similarities (let's give a little shout out to Manchego cheese!) we've always wanted to make a house a home. And now we have the chance to do it together. I will have to walk a little farther to work (two miles, to be exact) and I won't live in that glorious shoebox any more. But this silly old, kinda broken down row house will be our own and we'll fill it full of dreams long before we can fill it with furniture. So, you know what? Holy shit, we bought a home.