I think I may have found it. Yes, it. Not him or her. I already found him, just waiting for him to open his eyes. The "it" is my house. The one I intend to buy. This is of course a totally emotional response, having just seen it this morning. But as of 10am everything else is dog shit in comparison. Even the really nice new homes. Yes. Even those. Throughout this process I've learned a few things. First, I am not at the 2.5 kids + dog and family wagon stage of my life, as much as I would like to be. And buying a home in one such neighborhood won't make it so (even with the dog and family wagon already acquired). Second, I don't actually LIKE the homes in the aforementioned  neighborhoods. Zero character, which sadly, can also represent the people if you find the wrong neighborhood. Finally, location really does matter, as four miles can be an eternity. So what did I find? Naturally, something right out of Bucks County magazine, the place where I grew up. ...

I've spent the past three years house hunting. Yes, three years. For one reason or another I never actually committed, which in itself is telling. There is a recurring pattern of non-committal behavior within me that I choose to deny but the reality is I don't like anything that doesn't offer flexibility. Or better stated, options. Just look at my life. Options abound. I am not married, I have no children, my job (not company) changes every two years, I don't have a set schedule, I do whatever I want pretty much whenever I want to...I have zero non-flexible commitments.  In some cases, it's not that I don't want them, but I want the right ones. And there are endless criteria that change on a daily basis in regard to the "right" house, car, computer, job, husband, and so on. I'm looking for guarantees where I know there aren't any. I first learned this while trying to buy a car last year. It took me three months to get up the courage to co...