hardwood floors, painted white. but they'd already be painted white when i moved in because, even though i love the look of them, i'm not actually sure i could bring myself to paint over hardwood. part of me feels like it's wrong. i'd try to paint them but i'd end up feeling like i was somehow stabbing mother nature in the back. sometimes, i forget that inanimate objects don't have feelings.
my imaginary dream house would also be old... though, magically, nothing in it would ever break down.
wanna come snoop through my imaginary dream house's attic? it's basically one huge granny teasure chest.
you can't take books out of its library but you're welcome to come sit here for as long as you like, whenever you like.
you can keep your shoes on in my easy-going, imaginary dream house. it isn't precious about those kinds of things.
you can also come stay in the guesthouse...
or you can just build your own imaginary dream house next to mine.
you didn't think our imaginary dream houses weren't going to have an ocean view did you?