I follow the blog Remodelista only sporadically because, come on, everybody and their grandma knows blogs are dead. But it's filled with pretty pictures and wildly implausible life scenarios, and I do my best to remember the people who inhabit the structures it promotes are basically aliens, at least to a middle-class Midwestern middle-of-the-road tract house conformist like me. Still, I like to think I'd have the presence of mind and backbone to say that when I ask for a gazebo, do not build me a goddamn Japanese teahouse.
In my imaginary future, though, sure, I'd have tea here, why not.
p.s. Something about dream houses makes me unusually aggressive. Is this related to my status as the 99%? Or the 47%? Math is the worst.