lookin' for a home

Tonight Nicole and I looked at five houses and didn't really fall in love with any of them. Probably a good thing. We fell in love with an old Victorian home in Ohio four years ago and ended up 1) spending more than we should have, and 2) losing money when we sold the place two years later. We're not too picky. A dining room and a decent-sized kitchen are musts, but, aside from that, we're open to possibilities. Nothing in a subdivision! Nothing in a neighborhood where you choose from three or four different stepford wife floorplans! You can find some nice colonials from the 1920s in Royal Oak: nice woodwork, maybe some built-in bookshelves. Our realtor is surprised that we *prefer* such homes. Little did he know that every article of clothing I was wearing tonight, aside from the ratty, six-year-old Converse all-stars, came from garage sales. What a shame that, as a culture, our wastefulness has even made its way into the real estate realm. Even with the sorry state of Michigan's economy (thanks W!), older homes seem to mean "starter homes." As in, "this is a nice place to get you guys started." Sigh.