What were you thinking?
Last week, he even called the number and told the woman selling it to call me. I should have known anything he tries to convince me of, I will not like. Case in point... Branson. But, I digress.
I talked with the woman, talked with her sister, and set up a time to meet. I asked my parents if they wanted me meet me over there, and of course, Dad even arrived before I did. I give him credit for enthusiasm and encouragement in my wanting to buy a house.
The first hesitation going into this whole thing is the list price of the house - more than I would be qualified for purchase. When I almost bought a house a few years ago, I know what I pre-qualified for, and I know that even though I don't have certain monthly payments now that I had then, my income has not changed enough to make that significant of a difference. That's a big part of the magic number so to speak.
Anyway, the house itself... There was something about the exact location even though the neighborhood is fine. The house needed a little more than just some new wallpaper and some paint which is what I was led by both my father and the people selling it. As much of a believer in Behr paint with primer that I am, wow, yeah, not so sure about that.
They had laid ceramic floors in the kitchen, living room, hall and bathrooms. (There was also enough for the dining room and entryway to be done, but they hadn't done it.) I could be ok with ceramic tile in the living room if it weren't really ugly ceramic tile. It was kind of gray, but with some green and pink tones to it. Just not attractive.
Then, the living room had built ins that I was good with, but the ceiling had wood beams and wood paneling. Not necessarily the wood paneling that you would just paint over because it was nicer wood paneling. Dad says, "I think this makes a neat den." I kept quiet a couple of minutes until I could whisper to my mother, "I hate the paneling." She answered, "I knew you would."
All the other walls had a chair rail, and I'm not sure if it was really paneling or the illusion of paneling. Whatever it was, it had a funky texture in a funky bad way. The ceilings would of course need to be painted because part of the cottage cheese ceiling was coming down, and the only way you can do that is to spray more cottage cheese up there or scrape it bare and neither choice was too appealing.
Overall, I just didn't say much while we were there. I went over to eat with Mom and Dad afterwards, and Dad finally asks, "was there anything you liked about it?" "Uh, not really."
I've seen worse - the house I was going to buy a few years ago was worse, but at a better price.
Online, I saw a house I would like to see the inside of. It's been completely redone like an episode of Property Ladder or something. Laminate wood floors, new ceiling fans, painted cabinets in the kitchen, all painted as a fresh slate (lots easier to paint the walls color when everything is fresh and white).
The price is affordable, but the neighborhood would not be near my first choice. That's the frustration of being a single person with a single income and finally having other things paid off and just now able to save up anything.
I'd also like to take a look at an "old lady townhouse" that's for sale across the street from me. Even with an HOA fee, at least I wouldn't have to mow/maintain a yard and it's a quiet neighborhood - at least the neighbors. The train isn't going to be much quieter or the busy street.
I'm just a cat away from being one of those old ladies anyway. And Jenny has threatened to get me one this week for my birthday. Oh, she better not...