Houses.

So we've begun looking at houses. Actually if it were four months from now, we've found a house that is perfect and dreamy and we're going to pine after it on Sunday. (Yes, "pining" is actually the correct word.) My dad, as he enters into his foray into real estate, suggested that CA and I begin to make lists of what we're looking for in a home. My list has proved utterly fruitless because I am doing it classic AXR-style. Stupidly.

• I want a fireplace. Not for practical heating reasons but because I want languid afternoons drinking coffee and reading in front of it. (Not to harp on the white people list but I was going to say doing the NYT crossword. However, that's definitely on the list.)
• I want places for books. So many of the spots we've looked at have NO places for books. I have an absurd amount of books and so does CA. Absurd. And it's not like we're going to stop procuring books any time soon.
• A back deck is important so that we can cook hamburgers, and be outside. It's especially important that this deck be accessible without having to go through a bedroom (as was the case in one of the places we looked at).
• I would like a large, walk-in closet. I know that sounds like it is verging on practical, but let's look at the reason why. I want it for shoes. And because CA has 10,000 FSU t-shirts that he's never going to get rid of so I might as well accept it and move on from there.
• I would like room for a big table in the kitchen or eating area. Why? Not because I cook. But because I like the idea of dinner parties. Again, absurd.
• I'd also like a separate den from living room. Once again, why? Because with CA's video game paraphenalia (please note the size and cumbersome-ness of the rockband equipment ALONE), I don't want it in my living room. I'm not judging the equipment by a long shot, I rock out to the Yeah Yeah Yeah's with the best of them. I'm just saying, there should be a place for things.
• Crown molding. Because it's dead sexy.

Please note that NOWHERE on this list do you see anything about appliances, floorplans or anything else resembling normal. CA has a similar list, although slightly more practical.

Most of the time, however, I feel like the real estate agent knows that I have no business being there. It's silly and a stupid thing to think, but most of the time, I'm worried that she knows. She knows that my list involves rockband and shoes. She knows that I'm scared that we'll pick the wrong place and it's not like an apartment. This is kinda permanent. She knows that I shouldn't be there. Even though I think I should.