Dear Universe,

I recently became a believer in putting things out…well, into you. I’m not entirely sure why. But I’ve just seen a lot of people set an intention, declare it, and then stuff starts to happen. (Or maybe they are making it happen. Either way, I’m excited to start this journey.)

I was talking to Chris about this, and he told me a story he heard on the Adventures in Design podcast where someone basically got their dream job in this fashion. (I don’t remember all the details because Chris and I talk a lot, since we’re dating and living in sin and all.) But if it was on a podcast, that’s basically the modern version of gospel, yeah?

Anyway, I just want to tell you, dear universe, exactly where I plan for Chris and I to live in the future. And there’s absolutely no rush, as I don’t think we can currently afford all 9,000 square feet of the space, but we will.

You see, there’s this place on Main Street in Downtown Norman. And I’m kind of obsessed with it. 

It’s on the southeast corner of Crawford and Main, and I’ve been obsessed with it since I bartended at the McNellie’s just a block away back in 2010. After the $3 burger night crowd had dissipated, we’d go down the street to Blu to enjoy some $2 well drinks. And we’d always walk by this place, dark and imposing, and never open except for the random times when it was and drunken frat boys were getting tased by cops on the sidewalk.

(Has a cop ever tased a drunken frat boy on your front lawn? To some this might not be a selling point, which, I totally get. But for me, it’s kind of a cool thing I would love to tell people when they came over for Sunday dinner.)

See, it used to be, and currently still is an event center, I guess. Only right now it’s closed for renovations. And according to the county assessor, it’s all zoned for retail. But dear Universe, how hard would it be to get the 6,200 square feet of the first floor zoned for retail, and the 2,900 square feet of the second floor zoned for residential? Like, if we owned it, couldn’t we do what we wanted with it? Not to be one of those assholes, but this is America, after all, and shouldn’t a person be allowed to do what they wish with their property?

Granted, it’s not technically ours at the time of this writing. But that’s where you come in, dear Universe.

See, I want to own that building. I’ve loved it forever, or at least a few months longer than I’ve been with Chris (since I didn’t meet him until the summer of 2010 was almost over, and I had been dragging my feet past that building for cheap gin and tonics for months leading up to that) and I think it would be a great space for us. Chris could use the first floor for Eastside Design Company. See, it would give him plenty of room to print and sell t-shirts, and maybe hold art shows and events. And we could live on the top floor. Though, I have no idea what we would do with a 2,900 square foot home, or who the hell would vacuum it all. But let’s burn that bridge when we get there, eh, dear Universe?

I know it’s kind of a bourgie, cliché thing to do, to invoke you, dear Universe, for my personal gain. But I write introspective pieces about what alternative rock songs made me cry in yoga class, and the crazy expensive planner I use on a daily basis, so it’s pretty fair to say that I’m that bourgie, cliché girl.

So, that’s just what I felt like saying to you, dear Universe. I just wanted to let you know where Chris and I would like to be someday. (I assume Chris is on board with this. I’ve mentioned it before. He didn’t seem to be against it.) Also, in this scenario, I think we’d really like to have this couch in the upstairs space, dear Universe. (Not to gift horse you in the mouth or nothing.)

And with that, dear Universe, I give you leave to do what you need to do to ensure that the owners of that space want to put it on the market in the very near future. And I also give you leave to help us buy it. Regardless of what the county assessor site says the property is valued at, I don’t see this place selling without tons of bidders and a near $1 million price. So, dear Universe, if you want to help us find a duffle bag of unmarked bills in a back alley too, that would be super helpful.