I Admit To Loving David Hasselhoff
Note: I was six. When you were six you did stupid things too. Ate glue, thought the opposite sex had cooties, figured if you whined in a high enough octave daddy would really buy you a pony...
I was six and I was in love with David Hasselhoff. Sure, if you asked I would get all defensive and say I really liked the car and not him, but I was lying and I was really truly in love with him. Well, what a six year old knows of love anyway. Which proably means I'd share my coolest Barbie with the really long hair with him, but only if he'd let me drive the car. Hey, even a six year old knows you gotta give to recieve.
But times change. I don't know if it's an older and wiser sort of thing or if time just changes a person. Long story short I've traded my David Hasselhoff lust for Daniel Craig lust. When I am 60 will I be slightly mortified that I had a crush on the blond James Bond? Only time will tell.
What does this have to do with my house? Well lately I've been dreaming a lot about other houses. I was in the middle of one such dream where I had purchased an old church with the most beautiful stained glass windows and the typical quaint church kitchen and cabinets and a loft that I was going to turn into my bedroom. Molly came in needing something and Tim rolled over, "Your turn." I came this close to beating him with my pillow, and I have very heavy old feather pillows. It would have hurt.
So I wonder is my house becoming David Hasselhoff? Will it too loose it's appeal? What does a person do then? I know I will never be ashamed I lived in this house, like I am kind of really ashamed of my David Hasselhoff stage. But what does change in a person?
Sometimes I wonder if it's because I wasn't true to my sense of style when we bought it. Tim loves all things gothic/anything curved and I love craftsman/anything square so this seemed like a good compromise for us. You know one where neither of us got what we want.
