Home Sweet Home?

I need more space. I'd like room for people to sleep when they visit. I'd like to have a spot to build things. I'd like to not ram my knuckles into my light fixture when I'm putting on my shirt in the morning. Oh, and I'd like more than one window.

On the other hand, I hate moving, and there are no places available that are so obviously better yet still affordable that I would go through the horror of moving out.

With that in mind I was cruising along on craigslist when I saw two houses for sale: One for $175K and one for $160K. Those are reasonable home prices in most places, but they are a steal in the bay area, especially because they are both in Marin. So here are the catches. The first is a floating home, and the second is a mobile home.

I'm still interested in the idea of a floating home. It's just that this particular floating home wasn't my cup of tea. When I went to look at it there was quite a bit of water cascading off the roof, which was odd since it hadn't been raining. Then there was the fact that when the tide goes out the home sits in the mud. Stinky mud. And to top it off the road that leads to the dock floods every time there's a big rain storm. No thanks.

Now the mobile home had a little more promise, at least as far as homey things are concerned. For $160K I would get 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a little back yard, new parquet floor, granite counter tops, and access to the pool and tennis court. Then again, at the end of any given date I'd be left with the problem of how to phrase the question "would you like to come back to my trailer?"

I think I'd still consider the mobile home if I got the ground underneath for my $160K. But I don't trust people to not sell the dirt out from under my house if I'm be renting it. What would I do with a $160,000 house with no place to put it? It's not like it has wheels. Maybe I could sneak it into Golden Gate Park. Ending a date with "would you like to come back to my house in Golden Gate Park?" would probably work wonders. Or she'd think I was homeless.