Me & Cary Grant

Anyone who's ever seen the movie "Suspicion" knows that technically this blog post should be titled "Me & Joan Fontaine," as Cary Grant’s character was the one causing the suspicion -- but Joan Fontaine's character was pretty dopey in this movie. And honestly, which one would you prefer to be linked with? Exactly.

What does Cary Grant have to do with looking for a house? Trust the Mary. There's a connection. Two connections, actually. Well, three. Looking for a house is a lot like looking for a mate or looking at a Cary Grant film: it can be romantic, or a comedy, or both. And it can create inside you a feeling of... suspicion...


Call me suspicious, but sorting through descriptions of houses awakens my inner paranoiac as well as irritating my inner editor:

• When they say “Act quickly, this home won’t last long” – do they mean “won’t stay long on the market”? Or are they really saying that it’s going to fall apart as soon as the deal is closed?
• Why would I want a home with a formal dinning room? I don’t like loud noises, formal or not.
• Why do they want me to know that a house is surrounded by a “picked fence”? Was each board selected with especially great care?

Found a bank that would be willing to loan me as much money as I’m comfortable borrowing. Bottom of the market, definitely, but there are a few houses out there all the same. Not too many.

The next step is to start interviewing house agents. Have no idea how to go about doing that, but we’ll see what happens. I think the best thing to do would be to pretend I have some idea what I’m doing. I mean, Cary Grant didn’t start out as Cary Grant. I’ll read up on it a bit. Must be documentation out there somewhere. Also, this would probably be a good time to practice being suave, debonair, and charming.

And for some reason this isn’t doing wonderful things for the waistline either. I’ve gained four pounds in the last three days. Clearly I need more stress in my life. (Note to God: I’m just kidding about that last bit. Honest.) Or maybe the BCB theory is correct, and unbeknownst I’m eating more food to compensate for abandoning my dog. (My mother is actually spoiling the dog rotten, and the dog seems to be lapping it up, but that’s not the point.)