I’m a nostalgic fool. Sometimes I get all nostalgic and miss places that I used to live growing up.
We moved ALOT growing up, so that gives my brain lots of daydream food.
But most of all, I miss the house I was born into. It was a nice, big, colonial home in New Jersey that when bought in the 60′s was $26,000 brand new, and now is going for around $700,000. This house here reminds me of that house, although this one is a little bit different.
I love houses. I used to want to be an architect. I love looking at floor plans, and when watching movies, I can tell when they shoot some scenes in one house and other scenes in another house, as if we won’t notice.
I think alot about my old house, and would buy it in a heartbeat if I had an opportunity.
They say you can’t go back, but I’m dying to stop by and see how different it looks. Last time I went by, the trees were fuller (it was new when I was little) which made the yard look smaller. They’ve changed the landscaping, the color, the doorframe. Why did you change my house? Makes me think of that song “The Old Apartment” by Barenaked Ladies.
I want to show M the house. To prove that yes, I once DID have money. After leaving there, things went downhill. I went from money to living in a car, as a child. I’m pretty much back to where I started. I now have a nice 2-story, 4 bedroom house in a nice neighborhood. But I won’t feel “done” until I’m in a slightly bigger house, up north, where the leaves turn, the snow comes, and you can smell the rich soil in the summer time.