I asked my husband a question the other day, and by his expression, realized I’d stumbled onto another of those “Uh-oh, maybe I’m not normal” moments. You know those moments, when you’re telling someone a hope or a thought, and they look at you like you’re babbling in Ancient Hebrew.
Or is it just me?
I was telling John about my wishes to live, umm, somewhere else for a time. I’d like to live in a big city for awhile, or in a small town, right downtown, long enough to get to know all the characters there. I’d like to live on a houseboat or on a lake—for awhile. I quit naming places (yes, there are more) and asked if he’d ever thought about doing something like that. And that’s when I got the deer-in-the-headlights look. Oh, he’d love to live on the ocean, to walk the beach every morning, but since he lives in reality, he is content to live where we live, and not entertain fantasies about unlikely occurrences.
And then there’s me.
Since I was in over my head, anyway, I also said I wish I had a friend in real estate who wouldn’t mind showing me properties once in a while. Not to buy, but to use as locations in novels. I saw an amazing Victorian-looking home and checked it out online, but want to see it in person. I’d want to buy it if I didn’t have to give up my neighbors, and, oh yeah, if our money wasn’t all earmarked for things like insurance and my teeth. (Another crown this morning. My dentist looooves me but doesn’t want to marry me because then he’d have to provide free dental work.) Then there’s this terrible house-like dump in the middle of an industrial zone—you just gotta see the inside of something that sad. And my brain was coming up with all sorts of characters who might end up in such a desperate place.
What about you? Do you have these odd wishes? What are yours? And if you have a real estate license and love little adventures, call me. I’ll buy your lunch.
Or is it just me?
I was telling John about my wishes to live, umm, somewhere else for a time. I’d like to live in a big city for awhile, or in a small town, right downtown, long enough to get to know all the characters there. I’d like to live on a houseboat or on a lake—for awhile. I quit naming places (yes, there are more) and asked if he’d ever thought about doing something like that. And that’s when I got the deer-in-the-headlights look. Oh, he’d love to live on the ocean, to walk the beach every morning, but since he lives in reality, he is content to live where we live, and not entertain fantasies about unlikely occurrences.
And then there’s me.
Since I was in over my head, anyway, I also said I wish I had a friend in real estate who wouldn’t mind showing me properties once in a while. Not to buy, but to use as locations in novels. I saw an amazing Victorian-looking home and checked it out online, but want to see it in person. I’d want to buy it if I didn’t have to give up my neighbors, and, oh yeah, if our money wasn’t all earmarked for things like insurance and my teeth. (Another crown this morning. My dentist looooves me but doesn’t want to marry me because then he’d have to provide free dental work.) Then there’s this terrible house-like dump in the middle of an industrial zone—you just gotta see the inside of something that sad. And my brain was coming up with all sorts of characters who might end up in such a desperate place.
What about you? Do you have these odd wishes? What are yours? And if you have a real estate license and love little adventures, call me. I’ll buy your lunch.
I have these urges all the time. I thought it was just me. But, in my fantasies, it's always, "That would be the best place/way to live, and I'd want to live there forever." I don't have the "for a while" urges. Of course, once I'd live on a house boat for a while, the city would start calling to me, no doubt. :) Then the small town, etc.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to live in the biggest downtowns of the world for one year: Paris, London, New York... But nowhere in China.
ReplyDeleteEver read Lawrence Block's Hitman series? This professional but affable killer travels around the country wasting people, but falls in love with every place he goes and wants to move there. Me, I just want to be within five minutes of a liquor store and a bookstore.
ReplyDeleteI would love to have a beach hovel - just a tiny, slightly shabby, ramshackle sort of place. But I would want it to be somewhere on the Canadian coastline, so I would have a cool place (literally) to escape to in the summer. I would also like a rustic mountain cabin, a downtown Washington D.C. condo right next to a big park, a pied-a-terre in Paris, a loft in London....I could go on and on. A smallish RV and a houseboat would be nice too, as long as there was someone to handle the waste drain and maintenance on both. I like to drive or walk through neighborhoods with interesting houses and imagine myself living there. What's so great about imagination is not having to pack up moving boxes and then unpack them. Imaginary moves are always trouble-free!
ReplyDeleteSounds like you are perfect candidate for house swapping...it's how we are going to experience the world. Do a google search and keep dreaming!
ReplyDeleteOh yes! I thought it was just me, too! Here I am in a lovely house that we built to our dreams, but sometimes I drive by a little cottage and want to move in, or an old farmhouse way out in the boonies, until I realize how isolated I'd feel. I'm still trying to balance the city/country thing. When I lived in dense urban areas, I wanted to escape the noise and congestion. Now I feel my neighborhood is too quiet! I think these desires for other abodes are what sell all those shelter magazines!
ReplyDeleteWell! Fellow dreamers hello... Then there are all those fabulous places on HGTV for those folk looking for a second home abroad ... everything from a little quaint cottage on the ocean to a gorgeous villa on the mountain side over looking the vineyards. WE need everyone of them right?
ReplyDeleteI suppose mine comes in walking beside a house and wondering just what's going on with the people who live there, though I don't know who they are. I've always imagined such, but have never thought about it contributing to writing, other than some of the columns I used to write and occasionally my devotions I write. But maybe it could contribute to fiction too. See how ignorant I am in writing fiction?
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