How I'll Spend My Summer Vacation

Most readers of MWBH know I'm divorced and have a son from my past life. Paul graduated from high school one year ago, and has spent the time since then establishing himself on his own. It's been that way since his mom got re-married and left town, and I still live in a studio apartment with no room for him. Call it a tribute on the damage done by what we used to call "broken homes." Write it off as a sad commentary on the soaring price of housing in areas like Washington DC and the vicinity. In any case, after fifteen years of living out of someone's basement, I'm ready to look for a place with my own name on it.

In 1983, we bought a townhouse west of the Beltway for $86K. We sold it 1991 as part of a divorce settlement for $140K. It would now sell for at least $250-300K. This is a transient area, and with people moving every few years, the cumulative effect is for housing to appreciate faster than in areas where people tend to stay put.

I hate the suburbs here; the commute is twice as long as it would be back home, you have to drive to everything, and you don't know your own neighbors. What's more, there is no sense of a heritage in a place that didn't exist a generation ago, and such is often the case with the Virginia suburbs of DC. Even the "friendly neighborhood parish church" in the suburbs is built like a Wal-Mart, surrounded by acres of parking, and shut up tight by sundown. So I hope to live in the city, even if that means getting something smaller. A two-bedroom rowhouse would be just enough. But it'll be mine, by cracky!

Have you ever had to move? Most of the time before that is spent deciding what not to take. All the stuff stored in the bottom of your closets comes out of hiding, and it's then that you realize how well you got along without it. I've also got two or three bookshelves worth of imminent donations to the parish library; mostly periodicals I simply can't hang on to anymore. Then there's clothing and assorted knick-knacks for Goodwill. (I never could handle doing yard sales.)

There's no hope of living in northern Arlington. They're putting up luxury condos all over the damn place, starting well into the 300s. Crossing US 50 into the southern part alone will save at least $100K. Even so, at the rate things are going, there will be no place for our maids to live by the end of the decade.

All this, altogether, means two things.

For one, school will be put on hold for the summer, with the hopes that I'll remember most of what I spend nine months learning. I have one final illustration project I'm working on, due by the end of next week. After that, it's off until October.

For another, no vacation. Not even Ohio. Certainly not Seattle. How I do miss the Northwest!

Fortunately, I don't have to give up dancing. Or this weblog.

Now, aren't you glad you read this far?