So we want to buy a house.
After living with my family for the past 100,000 years, it is finally time. Not that we haven't loved living with my family. Are you kidding? I actually get to go to the bathroom by myself most of the time! I don't have to cook every night and still get to eat! But... Jason and me and our room-mate, Davy, really need a little space from each other. Davy has pretty much taken over our bed, which is a great situation for her.
She usually spends the night alternating between this sort of Chinese-water-torture-like scratching on one of our arms, until we wake up in acute and delirious hysteria from the annoyance of it and laying horizontally between us, making a great big, awful, uncomfortable H. She has sleep-slapped me 3 times. She has head-butted me once. Mind you, both of us were sleeping when these events actually occurred. At least until the violence woke me, I was sleeping.
The other night, she was curled up sleeping, facing Jason and was suddenly prompted by some unknown irritant to swing towards me, arms out and beat me in the middle of my sleeping face. Always a lady, I woke and shrieked, "Good God, Davy!!!" because... what else do you yell at your 17 mo. old when you find out that she has taken to bad company because apparently she's in the middle of some gang initiation, trying to kill you in your sleep? Obviously, Jason woke up thinking that a man from the 18th century had time-travlled and ended up in his bed, but after I primly explained (that's the word for scream-complaining with bad breath, right?) the situation, he was able to fall right back asleep. What a relief.
ANYway. We need a house so that we can lock Davy in her own room at night and also it will be easier for her to sneak out and meet up with her gang-member friends that way.
I mean this is probably a few months off. I don't know how to buy a house, but I understand that you might need some money saved? Is that right? Probably not. So, I naturally have started looking around for a house that has hardwood floors, soaring ceilings, built in walnut bookshelves in the study, stained-glass and maybe a fireplace in the kitchen all for about 80 grand. Yeah, you think I'm crazy. Well guess what SUCKERS?! I FOUND IT. Yeah. I did. I literally rolled around on the couch in ecstasy as Jason and I were looking at these pictures. Go ahead. Click on it:
http://search.har.com/engine/24750-Stanolind-Rd-Tomball-TX-77375_HAR66791225.htm
Did you happen to see that claw-foot tub? You Texas readers will know how amazing this is. I mean. A claw-foot tub? In the suburbs? Yeah right. Something has to be wrong with it. Someone must have been killed here, right? Beaten in the face by a gang-banging baby in their sleep and then eaten by wolves, probably. It stands to reason.
But in my delight I forgot all that. I was already trying to decide if we'd do an area rug in our bedroom or just let those glorious hardwoods do the talking, when Jason mapped it out. Old-towny Tomball. Okay, okay, I can do that. I can swing that. There's a Starbucks, a Target. I can do that.
Its across the street from railroad tracks.
Remember that part in Jurassic Park when they are trying to drive away from the t-rex in the Jeep and there is there is that cheesy (awesome) scene when you see the dinosaur in the side mirror and Ellie (yah, I didn't even have to look that up) starts to scream like a crazy person? That is how I started screaming when I realized that this perfect house was across the street from child-killing, person smashing train-tracks.
I don't doubt that you all share my absolute horror of train tracks. They first scarred me when I saw a black and white movie where a little girl sits with her legs across the tracks because she doesn't like the man that her mummy is seeing. Of course a train comes, runs over them, and they have to rush her to the hospital in a taxi. I mean, she wasn't bleeding or anything, but she was crying and I knew that she probably would have some nasty scars. Dude, old movies are gritty.
Then my best-friends mom tried to beat a train once, and yeah, we made it, but that was right after we had killed a butterfly when we were driving and it was just a lot to take in at once.
And finally, David Logan, wherever you are in the word. Whatever beer you are currently belching, whatever episode of Baywatch you are viewing - know that I blame you. The year is 1998. I am 15 (I don't know - 15 or something) and 16 year old David Logan is driving a group of us counselors to camp that morning. Stop light. Train tracks. He stops on the tracks. I'm glad to say that I handled myself with much more composure than the screaming and swearing 16 year old MALE driver, but, then again, I'm the one who is missing their DREAM house because of the incident (that was it: train coming, scary scary, light turns green and we live), while I bet David's Baywatch-filled life is train-fear free.
So for the past few days, I've been doing some soul-searching. Is there ANY way I could live across the street from train tracks? The noise - whatever. When we were in India we were like 2 blocks from a mosque where a tone-deaf horse did the call to prayer 5 times a day and after a week I slept right through it.
But I know just how it would go. First Jason would get killed by the train, and then I'd start dating someone that Davy hated and just to show me how much she hates him... you know what would happen then.
I'm never moving out of my parents house, am I?
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