I went and looked at apartments yesterday.

I'm scared to death of moving out, I've just realized. I'm scared of picking the wrong apartment. Scared of being in a lease. Scared of living alone. But it would be so nice to live downtown, right smack in the middle of two offices that my job is always making me switch between, close to my college (but not too close, my college is in the ghetto!), near all the clubs I love going to. I feel guilty about considering all these expensive apartments, even though I worked my spreadsheets and it can fit in my budget, and I can still make my donation goals.

I guess I just thought I'd go check out places and there'd be a shining light from heaven pointing me towards one place, and it didn't work out like that. Here's what happened:

- I saw the most gigantic two-bedroom loft in the world for $965. That's a lot of money. It's also kind of in a warehouse basement. I mean, it's two-story, and the top part where the bedrooms are has windows but they basically look out at the ground. The windows face west. I like sunlight, especially in the morning, I don't want a place that faces west. It would be FABULOUS for parties... that's about all it'd be fabulous for though.

- I saw a one bedroom loft for $800. No washer/dryer. It's on the first floor and walks out to a little porch thing that overlooks a parking lot. Faces south. All that glass + entrance on the first level makes me worry about security.

- I saw a two bedroom on one level for $800 that has a washer/dryer, but it's not available. So I could gamble and see if one comes available, but with my luck it'll be on the fifth floor or something, total pain in the ass to move into.

I need to move, yes. This room I'm in is suffocating me. Having a loft apartment downtown is my dream, maybe I should just lease the huge one in the basement and call it good? What's the worst thing that could happen?

And I know, last time I posted about living issues like ten of you asked why I wasn't just living with Marc... we're talking, okay? But really I'm moving for myself, to get out of this house, it's an independence thing, I don't want to move in with a guy because the time is right housing-wise, I want to move in because the time is right relationship-wise. So I took marc with me to look at the apartments so I'd have someone to bounce ideas off of, but that's it. He wasn't much help. He's from atlanta, where everyone pays $1000 for rent (crappy studios, too, not giant two bedrooms, he just thinks I should take advantage of the fact that I live in Wichita). But yeah, marc and I... we're talking.

I read The Tao Gal's Guide To Real Estate.

I basically felt guilty the whole time reading it because I bought a couldn't buy a real educational book, I got one wrapped up a chic-lit. but it was easy to get through (I don't read as much as I should, I've gotten bad at it) and the chapters were sized perfectly for my 30 minute lunch breaks at work. I now know what escrow is, and why you shouldn't use a seller's real estate agent to make offers, and how to refuse to back down when a so-called expert insists you don't know anything.

Kinda hate the idea that women need our own woman-specific real estate books, too, like our methods are special? they talk a lot about fear and detachment and getting people to listen to you and finding that "I can do this" attitude deep inside you... I wonder if all books about home buying tackle that one? I mean, I can't help but think that men have some fears when they buy their first houses. In general I've always felt like men are better at jumping into things they only sorta pretend to know everything about... I used to think it was a confidence thing but more and more I think they just don't notice little details that women see, so there's not as much to be afraid of.

anyway the book made me feel better about buying a house but didn't convince me it was right for me just yet. First, I've always been afraid to buy because I work in an aircraft city, and I'm in the aircraft industry. If I tank, this city tanks with me and I won't be able to get out if I own a house. I'm also afraid i'll be stuck with working on it all the time.

and here's the big reason: I really feel like having my own space anymore is a really vain idea. people are encouraging to move out of where I'm at now... too many roommates, too small a bedroom. As soon as I moved in, all my cool stuff... the purple sofa I love so much, art I've gotten here and there... was relagated to the basement or my room. The main living spaces are pre-owned. I don't feel like it's home, I'm paying for a sleeping room, and a small one at that. I wasn't even allowed to put my christmas decorations on the tree upstairs when we decorated for the holidays. There's a float trip next week, and i'm using marc's freezer to get stuff ready for it because my roommate (the homeowner, fridge owner, decorator) fills the freezer with her stuff. she's nice to live with and the place is clean, and her boyfriend is fun to live with even though I strongly resent him for getting about the same deal I've got (living in this house) for a fraction of the cost (he chips in for utilities... that's it, no rent. who else in the world gets to do that? I've considered leaving just for spite.)

but I'm never here! I'm in coffee shops, I'm bowling, shopping, going out, visiting friends, and it was like that when I had my apartment, too... I want to be of *this city*, not of a little house in the suburbs, you know? Why do I need anything more than a place to sleep?

it's like refusing to name the cat... if I don't own anything, nothing owns me, that's how I like it.