I went up to Oakland today to look at a prospective house to move into with JD, Joe, and Imber; it took me 80 minutes to get up there from work - not an encouraging first sign. The house itself was kind of interesting. It looked to be built in the 1920's, and had seemingly not been repainted since then. The roof's shingling wasn't in the best of shape, the side shingles were even worse off, and the thing generally had the look of neglect. I didn't even get to see the inside, as the landlord couldn't find his set of keys (he had given his main pair to the painters.) The neighborhood seemed OK, not spectacular, not a foetid pit.
Once again, though, it comes down to the matter of commuting to work. 80 minutes in shitty traffic means about 40 minutes at the best of times, and I simply can't handle it. Maybe if the house were absolutely stunning and had a pool and crap like that. But a kind of run-down house in a mediocre part of town far away from everything else? It's not enough to drag my lazy self from the southbay. Ah well.