Monday, September 13, 2004
      ( 8:30 PM ) Rebecca  
Now that the search for true love is over, at least for the week, I have a new obsession: real estate!

Egads, wait a minute. Is that actually me speaking? Ms.Free Spirit-who-likes-the-idea-of-being-able-to-leave-town-on-a-moment's-whim-and-move-to-Guatemala-even-though-she-won't-unless-there's-a-cute-boy-to-go-with-her?

Something strange is happening to me this month. I have been craving a 1)dog and a 2)house, in that order. A baby? Eh. Well, I think the dog - a golden retriever puppy, thank you - will be a substitute for that. And at least if I DO have a baby EVER, I will be able to trust my golden retriever with it, unless the baby has the misfortune to have a tennis ball anywhere near its being, in which case there is no telling what disasters may ensue!

Jesus, I'm old and boring now.

No. I'm not, really! Because, after all, I haven't found true love YET. I mean, so yes, I feel like I'm falling in love with Library Boy, but in the immortal words of Tina Turner, "What's love got to do with it?

He could yet turn out to have marriage- or children-phobia, or be a psycho of the first order (like the last two men I had the misfortune to fall in love with).

Just because so far he's been nothing but loving and sweet and into me - reminding me that relationships don't always HAVE to be hard - and just because I am now irretrievably swept up in his aura of sexy romance, and just because we spent last Saturday night singing John Denver songs in my kitchen while he played guitar, doesn't mean anything except that I am - once again! - in a position to get my heart broken.

A golden retriever will never break my heart, I can tell you that. Although I would be lying if I said that when I saw my dream townhome last night - a dramatic, beautiful place hip enough, light enough, and spacious enough for any writer to call home-I did wonder if Library Boy would like it. If there would be enough space in the backyard for the garden he would want to grow.

Of course, when I told him all about it, I didn't mention that little fact. I just told him how pretty it was, and how there was a park across the street, and how I loved the high ceilings and the way dining the area was lofted over the living room. I mentioned how there would be plenty of room for a dog, but I didn't say there would be plenty of room for him - which there would be. And for our darling infant.

Funny, though, how last night and today, I thought desperately of that townhouse, and felt that no other place would be right for me. But I don't have my loan yet, and others have made offers, and it's probably too expensive for me anyway - but still, I want it. It's PERFECT for me.

Just like so many other boys in the past were PERFECT. And then they were not. I went online searching desperately for another place today, but nothing, of course, looked as good.

Undoubtedly though, my real dream home is out there waiting for me. Patiently.

As for the dreamy boy, well, I've got my earnest money in my hand, but damn if I'm scared to put it down. I have made such bad investments in the past. Obviously, dating has prepared me for adventures in real estate. But are there any tips from the real estate world that could help me with dating?

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This blog was the inspiration for my novel. It helped me get through a horrible breakup and kept me entertained for years. But all good things must come to an end. I will recycle oldies but goodies from the archives here, but will blog about about writing here, and about all kinds of other stuff here.

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