I bought a house in the Boston neighborhood of Jamaica Plain in 1994. I sold it in 1998, hoping to use the windfall to spend time writing my screenplays. Of course, the money goes faster than you’d ever imagine, so I decided to stash away a bunch of the money instead of using it to support my writing.
Since 1998, real estate prices have soared, and I’ve never been able to buy back in at a level I was happy with. So these days I devour real estate news every day and I try to keep up with price changes in my neighborhood. I’m trying to decide when to pounce. I believe that we have a very long way until the housing and jobs markets correct themselves, so waiting to buy a house is not a bad thing. But renting, for me, sucks. I crave the independence of house owning. But there’s one silver lining to being a renter: I’ve been fortunate in finding a string of amazing roommates, all of whom have become friends. I always remind myself of this happy fact whenever I grumble about the renter’s life.