I seem to have the ability to choose to live in real estate that people need or want to sell.
My apartment building is in the process of being sold, but a few intrepid people in the building (I include myself in the bunch) wanted to turn this building into a condominium or a co-op. I'm not sure what our chances are anymore--given the current real estate market and the fact that many of our neighbors are very elderly.
I am prepared to deal with whatever happens. I would rather not move because I really, really like my apartment. Sure, my kitchen and bathroom could use a redesign with new appliances and fixtures, but the bones of my apartment are, in fact, excellent.
I am a member of the apartment's board and we have contracted attorneys to help us through the process--either of buying the building or dealing with the future buyer of the building. I know that I'll be fine whatever happens.
That seems to have become my mantra for twenty-ten. "I'll be fine whatever happens." And I'll be fine with a smile on my face, damn it.
I hosted a meeting last night in which we invited our attorneys, one of whom might be one of the most attractive men I've ever met in real life. I'm sure that he is considering running for office. With those looks? He should.
Because I live in what in polite circles is called an "up and coming neighborhood," I do believe that the lawyers were expecting that our meeting would take place in an apartment that was lacking in style or character. You could see the utter surprise on one of the lawyer's faces when he walked into my great space.
"Oh my!" he said. "You have a GREAT apartment."
Yes. I do.
I have a lot of space to hang paintings; I can move from room to room. I can throw a party for forty of my friends. My neighborhood isn't perfect, but it's not bad either. I have had less trouble here than when I lived in Columbia Heights.
I had food and drinks at the meeting because if we were going to host our lawyers, I figured the least I could do was have decent snacks. I didn't go over the top as I had no desire to impress them, just a need--thank you Southern College--to have something for them. They weren't going to be hungry or thirsty at my house.
The meeting was actually quite enlightening and I also think that it was good for two of the three attorneys to think about paradigms and expectations they had about the sorts of people who live in my neighborhood.
And at the end of the meeting that same lawyer told me that my apartment was beautiful.
I appreciated his compliments, but I thought, imagine what I could do if I owned this place?