I've bought 2 houses in my life. Both very different. Atypical. Not your run of the mill tract house. I loved them both. My current house in California was built in 1964. Originally, it was supposed to be the first house of a nudist colony, but instead- real estate developers from Palm Springs took it over and imported tile from the Old Desert Inn in Palm Springs to outfit my roof. It's kooky. Unique. Different.
Our move to Texas is an investment in our future. I get this. But trying to buy a house there may just put me in the loony bin.
California is still in a depressed market. Apparently, Houston is not. One house we were considering, was on the market for one day. 24 hours. Before we could even get an appointment in to see it, they had 4 offers above the asking price.
There was another house my agent emailed to me before the trip. It looked lovely. It had all the right working parts, was in a pretty good area- right school district. I finally got inside, and got that feeling- that "Hey! I could see us living here!" My husband went outside to walk up and down the street, and I went upstairs to call the kids. While I was on the phone, someone faxed an offer and it was accepted.
We did find a house. It also had all of the right parts, but I didn't love it. We put a bid in. They countered. We countered. They kept pushing the closing date. Pushing on the price. Yesterday, we pulled our offer.
I give up. I'm going to rent. And find out where the nudists live, because I really like their way with houses.