street dreamin

Standing in the Kroger magazine aisle, last year sometime, I has this priceless encounter...

Scrappy-looking 15-year-old boy, with an armful of bootleg CDs: Are you buying a house?
Me, with an armful of glossy house magazines: No.
Scrappy: Oh, are you getting those for a class then?
Me: No...
Scrappy: Oh shoot! Girl, you're street dreamin!

And then he walked off, without even trying to sell me a CD because, clearly, I fell into the category of "street dreamer." And while I'm not 100% on the definition, my guess is it's the urban equivalent of what my mom means when she says, "champagne taste on a beer budget."

Nail on the head, Scrappy. I was caught street dreamin in the middle of Kroger, and promptly called out.

BUT! A year later, I'm actually looking for a house — a real house! Granted, I won't be the one to slap the big fat down payment on the table, but I'll be paying half a mortgage. That counts, right?

Ryan and I spent most of Sunday cruising around with our real estate dude. Saw a few nice places, but haven't found it yet. We both have this feeling that when we see "our house," we'll instantly know it's the one. These were two of our favorites... can't tell much from just one picture, but trust me, they were cute.