Confessions of a Houseaholic:
My name is Angie and I am a houseaholic. There, I said it out loud.
You could have called me a child addict really, as it all started with "playing house." I know, I know… every little girl likes to play house, but THIS girl took things to a whole new level.
Barbie's outfit or accessories didn't interest me. If her hair was in a rat's nest, so be it - not my problem. I was not impressed by the car Ken was driving, or by the size of his surfboard. But when it came to Barbie's Dream House, let's just say heaven help any pig-tailed friend of mine who thought she could just come over and re-arrange Barbie's furniture!
It wasn't long before that busty bimbo and her cramped condo lost my interest. It was time to move on to my own custom designed houses! This involved hundreds of blocks laid out over the entire living room according to the floor plans I drew in crayon on graph paper. Yes, I was 8, and yes, I used graph paper. Every room had a purpose, flowed seamlessly into the next room, and was furnished beautifully (at least my 8 year old brain told me so) My co-dependent, enabler friend Lisa - who lived next door- had a tiny furniture collection that would fill a tiny warehouse. Whenever I needed a "fix," I would sneak off to Lisa's for hours of indulging in our mutual addiction.
My parents grew tired of my increasing demands to drive up and down Summit Avenue so I could look at all the houses. They were also exhausted of late-night lake cruises gazing through lit lake-home windows. Okay, it was a little creepy.
During high school everyone was crazed over Princess Dianna (including Yours Truly), but I was more addicted to knowing everything about Buckingham Palace, Balmoral Castle and Sandringham. The furnishings, the art, the architecture...it was all too much and yet not enough, I needed more, More, MORE!
After a year of liberal arts college I decided I wanted to be an interior designer, and off to design school I went. Kid in a candy store? Hah! It was more like Tony Montana climbing the cocaine mountain! Click HERE.
I had died and entered Houseaholic Heaven. Learning about all the great American architects and furniture designers, the history of American cities and how the urbanization and subsequent sub-urbanization of our country changed the way we live and work captivated me completely. By the time I was finished with school interior design interested me less and houses and how people lived in them interested me so much more.
But becoming an architect wasn’t within my mathematical capabilities and I really did like people more than computers and graphite pencils. So – when the time was right – I jumped at the opportunity to make a career out of my addiction. Matchmaking people with houses never gets old for me – I love it every day. I love every time I get to tour an historic home or see a view from a window that I never imagined.
Some homes are full of precious works of art by well-known artists. Others are filled with precious works of art by artists known only to those who live there - and are usually done in fingerprints and glitter. It has been a privilege to see (and sell) homes designed by famous local and national architects or historic homes renovated with such care and craftsmanship that you feel you've stepped back in time.
All that said – I must say it's the everyday homes for everyday people that fill my days with lovely sights and experiences. It is getting to know a family and their dreams that motivates me to find just the right home for them. It's the neighbors that come to visit me at open houses and tell stories of their neighborhoods, parks, and schools. It is knowing that a young person is getting the best, first home they can afford and happily entering the "Homeowners Club." It is helping folks say 'goodbye' to their home of 45 years where they raised their children, celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations…and say 'hello' to carefree living and all they have to look forward to in retirement. These are the reasons I am still a Houseaholic…I just can't quit!
When I'm not working I can be found on my couch filling my eyeballs with HGTV video crack, overdosing on Antiques Roadshow, or getting my "fix" from the guys on "This Old House". So when you hear someone talking about moving, tell them to call the "Houseaholic" – It's not just my job, its my ADDICTION!
– Angie
My name is Angie and I am a houseaholic. There, I said it out loud.
You could have called me a child addict really, as it all started with "playing house." I know, I know… every little girl likes to play house, but THIS girl took things to a whole new level.
Barbie's outfit or accessories didn't interest me. If her hair was in a rat's nest, so be it - not my problem. I was not impressed by the car Ken was driving, or by the size of his surfboard. But when it came to Barbie's Dream House, let's just say heaven help any pig-tailed friend of mine who thought she could just come over and re-arrange Barbie's furniture!
It wasn't long before that busty bimbo and her cramped condo lost my interest. It was time to move on to my own custom designed houses! This involved hundreds of blocks laid out over the entire living room according to the floor plans I drew in crayon on graph paper. Yes, I was 8, and yes, I used graph paper. Every room had a purpose, flowed seamlessly into the next room, and was furnished beautifully (at least my 8 year old brain told me so) My co-dependent, enabler friend Lisa - who lived next door- had a tiny furniture collection that would fill a tiny warehouse. Whenever I needed a "fix," I would sneak off to Lisa's for hours of indulging in our mutual addiction.
My parents grew tired of my increasing demands to drive up and down Summit Avenue so I could look at all the houses. They were also exhausted of late-night lake cruises gazing through lit lake-home windows. Okay, it was a little creepy.
During high school everyone was crazed over Princess Dianna (including Yours Truly), but I was more addicted to knowing everything about Buckingham Palace, Balmoral Castle and Sandringham. The furnishings, the art, the architecture...it was all too much and yet not enough, I needed more, More, MORE!
After a year of liberal arts college I decided I wanted to be an interior designer, and off to design school I went. Kid in a candy store? Hah! It was more like Tony Montana climbing the cocaine mountain! Click HERE.
I had died and entered Houseaholic Heaven. Learning about all the great American architects and furniture designers, the history of American cities and how the urbanization and subsequent sub-urbanization of our country changed the way we live and work captivated me completely. By the time I was finished with school interior design interested me less and houses and how people lived in them interested me so much more.
But becoming an architect wasn’t within my mathematical capabilities and I really did like people more than computers and graphite pencils. So – when the time was right – I jumped at the opportunity to make a career out of my addiction. Matchmaking people with houses never gets old for me – I love it every day. I love every time I get to tour an historic home or see a view from a window that I never imagined.
Some homes are full of precious works of art by well-known artists. Others are filled with precious works of art by artists known only to those who live there - and are usually done in fingerprints and glitter. It has been a privilege to see (and sell) homes designed by famous local and national architects or historic homes renovated with such care and craftsmanship that you feel you've stepped back in time.
All that said – I must say it's the everyday homes for everyday people that fill my days with lovely sights and experiences. It is getting to know a family and their dreams that motivates me to find just the right home for them. It's the neighbors that come to visit me at open houses and tell stories of their neighborhoods, parks, and schools. It is knowing that a young person is getting the best, first home they can afford and happily entering the "Homeowners Club." It is helping folks say 'goodbye' to their home of 45 years where they raised their children, celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations…and say 'hello' to carefree living and all they have to look forward to in retirement. These are the reasons I am still a Houseaholic…I just can't quit!
When I'm not working I can be found on my couch filling my eyeballs with HGTV video crack, overdosing on Antiques Roadshow, or getting my "fix" from the guys on "This Old House". So when you hear someone talking about moving, tell them to call the "Houseaholic" – It's not just my job, its my ADDICTION!
– Angie