That's a very strange thing for an socioeconomic outlaw like me to consider. Real estate. Me. What a concept. Like non-sex-industry jobs, the world of real estate is a world full of strange words, cryptic acronyms and baffling rules. But my mother - who will arrive in Seattle in precisely eight days, tick tock, tick tock - tells me that if I invest in real estate, she'll stop worrying (audibly) about the fact that Max and I aren't married. This is a classic example of how my very dear and beloved maternal parent's mind works. It does make sense, in an odd sort of way. But it takes a blending of the romantic and the practical that is unique to my mother to spontaneously arrive at such a conclusion.
(As a side note: Isn't it sort of sweet though, my mother fretting about my not being married? It's sort of like Countess Bathory's mother worrying about her getting too much iron in her diet.)
Hence my profound interest in real estate in general and this site in particular. It’s very amusing, actually, the way it’s done. I feel very powerful and godlike zooming around in the sky over the city, swooping down on this address or that. I shall enjoy that feeling as long as I can, because I imagine I shall feel substantially less omnipotent when the time comes to start signing things and writing checks.