February 2010

It actually has changed my life, and how many things can you say that about. My mom gave it to me for Christmas, and I’ve named her Victoria cause she sounds so formal when she tells me to turn left.

Leaving friends downtown to go home late at night, no problem. I almost didn’t even look at the freeway signs whizzing by, and just made a snap decision to get in the lane Vicky told me to. Getting on the wrong freeway or going the wrong direction, that’s an icky mistake to correct. But with Navi, I realized the worst that could happen, she would just recalculate to turn me back towards Santa Monica.

Maybe I didn’t realize before, driving alone at night in an unfamiliar area can be spooky. But not anymore. And no need to ask strangers “where the hell am I or how do I find the 405?” These days I feel powerful. Not quite I’ve-got-a-gun-in-here-power, but pretty close.

Last week I saw what I can afford in a really nice neighborhood, on a tiny historical street in a groovy part of Long Beach.

For $399,000 the house was only 540 square feet. That’s it. The bedroom was even smaller than in my apartment now, a bed and a dresser would be a tight squeeze. The place was kinda cute and in ok condition. But nothing had been updated. Ugg. An old tile kitchen with no personality and a tiny crappy bathroom. But the neighbors were outside so I met them and loved them. With such small yards, you really would get to know each other.

And the whole lot was less than 3,000 square feet, which might be ok but there was a cement slab in back instead of grass.

And the roof needed to be re-done.

And the wood under the new paint job was a mess.

And since it’s historical, you can’t make changes without getting approved first. A “certificate of appropriateness” it’s called.

And I actually considered it for about an hour. My second realtor was really wanting me to say Yes, and I think he broke up with me after only a month because I didn’t buy it. Crazy huh.

I’m open to a one bedroom house if it gets me in a swell area…but there’s gotta be room for me and a bigger than purse-sized dog.