Homesickness
Did I mention that real estate sucks? It does. It totally sucks.
It sucks when you are renting and not ready to buy something - feeling as if you are missing out on ownership and appreciation and tax breaks. Plus, if you had your own place you could finally get a dog and put up some shelves.
It sucks when you are looking and getting ready to buy - because you realize how discouraging the whole thing actually is. How little you have and how much you need. How much things cost and how little they seem worth. You try little tricks, like the oft-hyped "scanning the for sale by owner section of the New York Times to find an honest deal," but you can't even find that section. And no one is going to be honest or give you a deal. You travel to the far reaches of each burrough, except Staten Island of course, hoping to find that hidden gem, that undiscovered nirvana where the gays are starting to move in and plant gardens. Everything you see borders on the projects and is still unaffordable. You learn the difference between a co-op and a condo, and learn that both suck. You learn about real estate taxes and maintenance fees and closing costs, all of which suck. You search in vain for decent closet space, for an in-house washer dryer, for something that doesn't reek of dog pee. You make offers on everything you see, just to see what they'll say. Most go for it, and you feel awkward but relieved as you quickly back out. (You wonder why New York magazine keeps reporting bidding wars when everything you've seen is going for at least 20% below the asking price, and people seem desperate. Is it you?) You finally find something that seems perfect: a house, a quiet neighborhood, great location/proximity to the city, not too near to the projects, a washer dryer, a driveway, a yard. For sale by owner, decent price.
It sucks when you buy something - for so many reasons. You are always second guessing your decision. Should you have waited? Should you have been more aggressive in asking for repairs? Should you sell now and try to make money? Should you wait and try to make more money? If you wait, will the neighborhood slowly decline and cost you money? What's that smell? Is that a leak? You get a dog and shelves, but they are not enough. You troll Home Depot and Lowe's on the weekends, miserably looking for inexpensive ways to keep your property from falling apart. You clean and clean and clean and still you need to clean. You worry about the hardwood floors getting scratched, and actually consider putting carpet over it just for your peace of mind. You get excited when you see a seemingly gay type walking by window - or a hipster, or a student, or a band - but the sightings are few and far between. You don't really like what your neighbors are doing with their yard. You want to join the militant neighborhood association to encourage others to pick up their garbage. And even though you've found an ideal Manhattan-close undiscovered neighborhood, you soon realize that your decision has put you in some club that you had not anticipated: Jersey. Your new home is not in New York, and therefore has a stigma. None of your old friends share your enthusiasm. You are asked if you ever make it into the city, and told that others don't want to keep you out late because you live so far away, but you live closer than they do. You are treated as if you moved to the suburbs, but you have no suburban benefits. You realize that New York is not the scrappy mecca of your teenage fantasies, it has become a parody of a bad Sex in the City episode, filled with wanna be Bigs and Carrie Bradshaws. You should have stayed in California. You should have just moved to Staten Island.
It sucks when you are renting and not ready to buy something - feeling as if you are missing out on ownership and appreciation and tax breaks. Plus, if you had your own place you could finally get a dog and put up some shelves.
It sucks when you are looking and getting ready to buy - because you realize how discouraging the whole thing actually is. How little you have and how much you need. How much things cost and how little they seem worth. You try little tricks, like the oft-hyped "scanning the for sale by owner section of the New York Times to find an honest deal," but you can't even find that section. And no one is going to be honest or give you a deal. You travel to the far reaches of each burrough, except Staten Island of course, hoping to find that hidden gem, that undiscovered nirvana where the gays are starting to move in and plant gardens. Everything you see borders on the projects and is still unaffordable. You learn the difference between a co-op and a condo, and learn that both suck. You learn about real estate taxes and maintenance fees and closing costs, all of which suck. You search in vain for decent closet space, for an in-house washer dryer, for something that doesn't reek of dog pee. You make offers on everything you see, just to see what they'll say. Most go for it, and you feel awkward but relieved as you quickly back out. (You wonder why New York magazine keeps reporting bidding wars when everything you've seen is going for at least 20% below the asking price, and people seem desperate. Is it you?) You finally find something that seems perfect: a house, a quiet neighborhood, great location/proximity to the city, not too near to the projects, a washer dryer, a driveway, a yard. For sale by owner, decent price.
It sucks when you buy something - for so many reasons. You are always second guessing your decision. Should you have waited? Should you have been more aggressive in asking for repairs? Should you sell now and try to make money? Should you wait and try to make more money? If you wait, will the neighborhood slowly decline and cost you money? What's that smell? Is that a leak? You get a dog and shelves, but they are not enough. You troll Home Depot and Lowe's on the weekends, miserably looking for inexpensive ways to keep your property from falling apart. You clean and clean and clean and still you need to clean. You worry about the hardwood floors getting scratched, and actually consider putting carpet over it just for your peace of mind. You get excited when you see a seemingly gay type walking by window - or a hipster, or a student, or a band - but the sightings are few and far between. You don't really like what your neighbors are doing with their yard. You want to join the militant neighborhood association to encourage others to pick up their garbage. And even though you've found an ideal Manhattan-close undiscovered neighborhood, you soon realize that your decision has put you in some club that you had not anticipated: Jersey. Your new home is not in New York, and therefore has a stigma. None of your old friends share your enthusiasm. You are asked if you ever make it into the city, and told that others don't want to keep you out late because you live so far away, but you live closer than they do. You are treated as if you moved to the suburbs, but you have no suburban benefits. You realize that New York is not the scrappy mecca of your teenage fantasies, it has become a parody of a bad Sex in the City episode, filled with wanna be Bigs and Carrie Bradshaws. You should have stayed in California. You should have just moved to Staten Island.
posted by j.m. at 1:11 PM
2 Comments:
I'm completely with you on the real estate sucks argument. The whole real estate industry is designed to make people go stark raving mad.
As far as owning a place, here are a few things you can do that we renters can't: Play extremely loud music, have a baby cry all night without having neighbors get pissy, sit in your yard alone, tear out a piece of the wall, and make money just by living there.
As for Jersey City, to make it hipper you have to get city people to go there. So when are you inviting us over??
Last weekend Dave and I went looking at neighborhoods in Queens to see where we might like to move someday. We fell in love with Sunnyside, which is right next to LIC. It has great views of both the Empire State and the Chrysler Building and there was a good mixture of different types of people and a lot of baby stroller activity, which would be good if we ever decide to start multiplying (the schools are supposed to be pretty good). It only has the 7 train, but we really liked the vibe there, especially the northern end (lots of trees and shrubbery). We checked out Kew Gardens as well, which is really cute too. It has an Independent movie theatre and has a LIRR stop near by. It’s just past Forest Hills.
Anyway, we have no cash to make any sort of purchase and it’s probably just a pipe-dream at this point, but we want to look into the processes of what it entails to buy real estate… and who better to give advice than you, since you just went through it and are a financial dynamo to boot. Maybe you & HG could give Dave and I some advice on where to start since we are retards when it comes to adult life subject matter. I still need to see your new pad anyway, maybe you could invite us over, hint… hint…–d.p
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