Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Thoughts on Vacillating

So I have a legitimate head-scratcher. How far would you drive for a bigger, cuter house? You have to drive 30 minutes to the regular cute house, or you could drive 15 minutes more and have a borderline large home that is positively damn cute. And the former drive would consist mostly of stoplights, the latter of highway driving. Both in rush hour, both plagued with stoppage.

As the girl, and as someone who used to commute alot, I opt for the grand house. Derek is opting for the drivetime benefit. Grumble. Not that anyone reading this knows the area, but he wants to live in Plano, where the neighborhood is nice but the houses in our price range are on the smallish side. Do-able, but smallish and just cute. Cozy would be a good deceiving word for a real estate agent to use.

The wife is leaning towards Arlington, a 45 minute drive to a regular town--nothing super nice, just average. It actually seems to be a peculiar mix of nice neighborhoods fringed with a touch of ghetto. But the houses are between 1700--2200 sq ft (Plano would be around 1400), two-story and sexy. And I won't see the insides til my real estate agent Sam makes me a date, but it may be all over when I do.

I keep trying to emphasize that we may not always be working in the same location; we should buy the house strictly on its own merits, including its neighborhood, but drivetime to work shouldn't be a huge factor. He works for a corporation that is going to move him around, there's no question. Hopefully, yes, not to Frisco or even further out in BFE from home. And since the little woman wants to one day trade in the photolab work for an airline job at the airport (free travel, bitches, it's mine), well gosh, Arlington sounds pretty decent.

But driving does suck, no matter which way you cut it.

Jesus. And now I feel like kind of a dick because the delivery guy from our B&W lab is just flat-out super creepy. Real nice guy, but seriously creepy yucky. What makes it so skin-crawlingly bad is his over-familiarity. Like we're buds. And I've just been real short with him lately, as often as possible. However phony his schtick with the ladies, I still feel like a dick playing it as distant as humanly possible.

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