30 Day Challenge: Prime Real Estate

28. What does your dream house look like? You can describe the inside and outside or use photos you find online—whatever works best for you.

So, I don’t really have an idea for the outside of my house mostly because it depends on where I live. I’m the adaptable sort. However, I do have some key decorative/structural ideas that I’d love to have if possible.

I’ve kind of always pictured living in an apartment in NYC but to afford the one that’s in my head, I’d probably need to be famous or royalty so I’m just going to describe it and go.

Ideally, I’d want a wall of windows, particularly in the living room. I love natural light. The only way this would work though is if they’re interrogation-room-style mirrors or if I lived high enough that no one could be peeping in.

I want a mural of Starry Night on one wall, also preferably in the living room.

I want a wall that is entirely either a dry erase board or a chalkboard. I like leaving messages for people, especially cutesy ones for my significant other. I’d like this to exist in the kitchen or near the entrance.

I want my bathroom to be floor to ceiling records. I blame Pretty in Pink for this one. But I love the idea of my musical taste being on display plus it’s kinda fun and funky.

I need lots of book shelves.

I want an oversized, super comfy chair for reading/naps.

I hate overhead lights. I’m all about natural light or soft light via christmas lights or lamps. I’m weird like that.

Those are the only concrete ideas I have about my ‘dream house’ right now. I’m sure I’ll come up with more things. I’m just kinda weird, I guess.


Just hold on, we’re going home…

There’s something about going home to the place you were raised, to the place that shaped you, that just settles you. You had no idea that you’ve been vibrating out of your skin, barely containing yourself, until you pull onto that familiar road, see the sun peeking over the roof of your childhood home, and just feel a deep contentment settle in your bones.

You never think it’ll be like this when you’re growing up. You’re in a such a rush to be an adult, to make your own rules, and to be your own person. You forget to look at what you’re leaving behind in the process.

Clearly, whoever said ‘you can’t go home again’ never tried. Nothing compares to the realigning of flesh and bone, the sudden stillness, the intense comfort associated with the sight of your childhood home, your mother’s smile, your sister’s laugh. There’s nothing like home.