When I was first looking at the house, I was working in Odessa during the week and traveling to Dallas on the weekends. I was staying with Tom Sim, a fellow cliff dweller. Over the past 2 years I had spent 9 months in an apartment in Phoenix and 15 months in an apartment in Odessa, combined with staying in someone else's house while I was in Dallas on weekends. Saying that I was ready to find a place of my own in Dallas and put down some roots is the understatement of the year. (Odessa Skyline pictured here)
When the project in Odessa looked like it finally might be coming to an end, I started looking for houses in Oak Cliff, using the same realtor Tom and a bunch of other Beck people had:
Jenni Stolarski, uber-realtorJenni was, and is, awesome at what she does and is one of the very few people in real estate that I've met that is genuinely helpful and honest. This was huge to me at the time, because it was not a simple feat to be traveling back and forth and negotiating it over the phone. (you rock Jenni, thanks) Anyone who is looking to buy in Oak Cliff, I'll be more than happy to introduce you. Jenni also connected me to a very impressive group of people that make Oak Cliff a wonderful place - artists, realtors, architects, city council folks, just interested parties that live in the area, who have been working on their homes, and genuinely care about the development of the neighborhood.
Anyways, my first glance at the house (before inspection, negotiation, anything at all) went something like this:
Extra special thanks to Faith Stringer for these photos... she was kind enough to take photos of the house while I walked around being overwhelmed by how ridiculously huge and seemingly out of my range the house was. This was the 3rd house we looked at, out of a total of 8. I believe the conversation with Jenni went something like this: (completely paraphrased, of course)
JSto: "So, what do you think?"
Me: "I feel majorly out of my league here..."
JSto: "Really?" *eyes me cautiously, as she's been figuring my sarcasm out as we go along, and is starting to pick up on it*
Me: "Well, the stuff in this house... the furniture... decorations... tables imported from Africa, etc... I don't think I could do this house justice."
JSto: "So you're intimidated by Gary's decorating skills?"
Me: "I guess you could put it that way... I guess I feel like I would be the horribly bad rebound boyfriend that couldn't possibly please this house after being left by someone with so much... style. and furniture. and clearly hosts lots of parties. I have a ping-pong table and a papasan chair. I'm not sure I deserve all this."
JSto: "Ok, no problem... just be honest so I can get a feel for what you're looking for... Let's keep looking and we'll see if you like anything else."
I was kidding around a little bit, as I tend to do in stressful situations, but that was really what it felt like. This place was ridiculous. You couldn't walk 20 feet without coming across a nice little area to sit, with 2 chairs and a table. It was as if the guy just went from room to room, creating cozy little 1 on 1 conversations. I still had my furniture from college, and some even from high school. How do you go from italian leather furniture to a blue couch from Rooms to Go? Can you really in good conscience remove the Frank Lloyd Wright inspired dining room table and straight backed chairs to make room for the ping pong table and beer fridge? It seemed like a bit of a stretch. After living with little more than a couch, a bed, and a tv for the last 2 years, I felt completely inadequate. (decoratively speaking)
It felt like it would serve perfectly as a set for gay speed dating... you could easily accommodate 10-15 couples, no problem. Scads of quaint, well decorated sitting areas, scattered throughout the house? Check. Black leather curtains? Check. Art depicting somewhat scantily clad, probably ready, and most definitely willing cowboys?
Check.
As much dimmable track lighting as humanly possible? Check. Drapes EVERYWHERE? Check. There was not a single wall without a hook, or a piece of art, or some sort of decoration, and in turn, a dimmable light casting a nice bit of atmosphere down onto it. There was a ridiculous sound system with speakers run to almost every room, including out onto the deck. There were probably 3 computers and 4 TVs set up within the house in various places. The electrical meter was spinning so fast you couldn't even read the numbers. I was intimidated. I was out of my league. I was... overwhelmed.
I think Jenni and Faith were both glad that I kept it in the top 3 of the ones we looked at that day, even though they knew that I had barely even given it serious consideration, and I knew that there was no way I would be able to afford it at the price at which it was listed. It would remain, for the time being, my unattainable, well decorated, gay Xanadu. Well, someone elses gay Xanadu. You know what I mean. This was me taking a tour of someone elses house, not touring a house I might own someday. I couldn't even wrap my mind around the thought of owning something like this.
All I could see was a house that I couldn't afford that was full of furniture, appliances, and furnishings that I couldn't afford to replace when I moved in. So I followed Jenni... we kept looking, hoping for that perfect house, waiting for something to come along and make the decision easier.
