Hunting Utopia

[mrissa]

We get a catalog of Really Expensive Houses (some of which are simply labeled "very upper bracket" instead of given a price). We get phone calls from these people, too. They seem convinced that because we have spent a chunk of change on a house, we should obviously want to spend a larger chunk of change on a different house any minute now. Yes, because book-moving is so much fun.

These catalogs fascinate me, though. Sometimes when I look through them, I make careful note of the priorities of people who aren't us. Three bedrooms in 6000 square feet, you say? How very...not us. This time it was the Pure Snark issue.

"Hunting Utopia!" it proclaimed. And shooting it through the head and making sausages of its flesh, from the looks of things.
"Architectural Statement!" And the statement is, "I knew that kid should have been an accountant."
"Preferred Living" (But Wasn't Given A Choice In The Matter, So The House Is Now For Sale).
"Exceptional Former 5Br" (I'm still puzzled: what do I care how many bedrooms it used to have? "Former Victorian Mansion! Now Parking Lot!")
"Get Away All Year Long" (A much nicer way to say Live An Hour From Byerly's*.)
"Can It Get Any More Private?" (many pictures shown, so apparently it can)
"It's the Little Things" (the mice, the cockroaches, the termites....)
"Sought After Lifestyle" (Yes, when you're done having a lifestyle, this house will be exactly what you seek.)
"Stunning, Nature-Filled Site" (see mice, cockroaches....)
"Located in one of the Twin Cities most prestigious neighborhoods" -- but not, apparently, prestigious enough to afford an apostrophe. Perhaps the hyphens were expensive as well.
"Your Heart Is In Orono." It is? Well, crap. All right, I'll drive up to get it tomorrow afternoon. But it had better not be in a jar on some creepy guy's desk, that's all I have to say.
"The Last Home You Could Ever Want." (Possibly true, but not something I'd think they'd want to tell you in advance. Incidentally, this one is very near White Bear Lake. I imagine next door there are the Last People You Could Ever Want As Neighbors.)
"1930s Enchantment." Because when I think 1930s, I think fabulous housing. Actually, I have a book idea with 1930s enchantments in it. Following the 1920s volume. Finnish social halls, if you know what that's a euphemism for.**
And my personal favorite, "Found Your Lakeshore?" Because this is Minnesota. And lakeshore is nothing if not hard to find.

*Is is sad that I don't ever want to live that far from Byerly's again? Of course, but it's my kind of sad.
**For Communists. Perv, what did you think?

I did not finish the rock sprite story, but I worked on it and on "Even Without Deceit" (and on Thermionic Night, but that was before my last post and so doesn't count. I think "Even Without Deceit" is rolling along to its conclusion. I have a scene left and a tiny bit of connecting tissue. Then I'll give it a shakedown and see what falls out of its pockets. Etc.

Comments

[dd-b.livejournal.com]

I guess in hunting utopia none of the hunters are drunk or incompetent, so *that's* okay. But I'd check the contract *very* carefully to make sure that you're not the prey species in any hunting utopia you consider.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I replied to this to say that my e-mails have been bouncing, to you and to no one else so far (though I haven't written to lydy or pameladean until I asked them to let you know my e-mails have been bouncing).

So naturally, lj ate the reply. YARG.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

One stores books, dogs, and relatives.

At least, this one would. I have no problem figuring out what I would do with houses of that size. It's what they do that confuses me.