sparkling wine on a school night.

I dreamt last night that I had bought a new house. I don't remember much about it, except that the living room seemed big, with beige walls and dark beige carpet. Maybe it was all the beige, but it seemed like the house was in one of those neighborhoods with five different floorplans rotated one after another down each street. I was sitting on the floor, a liquor box full of my belongings next to me. It occurred to the Dream Me that I was now going to have to sell my other house.

I had the same dream not three weeks ago. The new house in that dream was much more interesting. It was big, with several bedrooms sprawled out over one story. The rooms were oddly shaped. And again, I was moving in when I realized that it was not a great time to try and sell a house.

I am not in the market for a house, even though the realtor sends me cards every holiday. 2009 was the year I bought a house. 2010 is more of a making payments sort of year.

One year ago last week, I first met my house. I was smitten. I flirted with some other houses for the sake of being thorough, but in the end, it was the only one.

One year ago today, I committed to buy that house. Such was my crush that a normally very practical and level-headed girl agreed to trade away her life savings, plus another three times that, to purchase the first house she looked at. I have not regretted this decision once. I see other houses (those of friends, those holding estate sales), some of them very nice, but none of them, not even the very interesting ones, are right for me the way that mine is.

One year ago next month, I went into huge, bone-crushing debt. I do not love my mortgage. I do understand that paying on a loan is much better than paying rent. The money is actually going somewhere - right now, most of it to interest - but somewhere nonetheless. I am not paying for a right to inhabit some space and keep my junk there another month. I am paying back some money that a very nice bank loaned me. (Actually, I am paying back a bank who bought my loan from another bank who loaned me some money). The fact that I borrowed the money to buy a place to live is incidental.

I hate to look at my mortgage balance. It seems like I've given the bank a bunch of money already, and I still owe so much. Due to fortunate circumstances and growing up with thrifty parents, I'd never been in debt until a year ago. I have determined that I don't much care for it. Every time I sign on to my account to make another payment, I'm tempted to just transfer my whole savings account. Unfortunately, my savings isn't quite as healthy as it was, oh, a year ago. Besides, I'm a great believer in a money cushion. I had put all my savings toward the loan last summer, I would have been in trouble last fall when my car died. So I have to tell myself that it is perfectly natural to owe someone 100Gs.

I do pay extra on the principal. I started out by paying a little extra. Then I talked to my sister-in-law, who told me how much extra they were paying. They are raising four kids on a single self-employed income. My competitive impulse kicked in, and I started paying more, too. A mean competitive streak can even apply to mortgage payments. Some of you may not have known that. Others of you are probably not at all surprised. Anyway, the increased payment forces me to pay a little more attention to what I'm spending. So much is put towards the house that there is less left over for frivolity, even bought secondhand.

I remember when my parents paid off their house. My mom came home with a bottle of sparkling wine. I was a teenager and had never given any thought whatsoever to a mortgage. I didn't know how much a house cost or how long it took to pay off the loan. I didn't know how much interest is generated when you borrow $100,000. I had no idea where they were in the course of their loan. My mom must have been looking forward to that day for years and years. No doubt she had been planning on the sparkling wine for months, ever since she could make out the thin light at the end of the loan. I just thought it was pretty neat to get to drink alcohol on a school night.

Now I can drink alcohol whenever I want, but the idea of not having to write a check (okay, authorize a online payment) to the bank every month is intoxicating. Can you imagine? What would I do with all that extra money? My savings would swell; I could swim in it, Scrooge McDuck style. Bring on the secondhand frivolity!

Even with extra payments, I have a long way to go until the day when I buy a bottle of sparkling wine in the middle of the week. By then I might have kids that I let have a glass so that they'll be excited, too, though not nearly as much as they should be. C'mon, kids, no more mortgage! WHOOOO! Until then...sigh. It is discouraging, but it is what it is. And my house is worth it.