“This is the only one in the neighborhood,” says Jennifer Emil proudly, sinking slightly into the AstroTurf next to the tiny oblong pool inside her 1971 East Las Vegas home. The pool is clearly the signature space. Housed in an equally tiny room, it looks like the set for a 1960s cocktail party—latticed walls with built-in mirrors, a Sputnik chandelier Emil installed and the custom AstroTurf flooring. A grassy accent wall is fronted by two pink flamingos, and a growling bear wears a flotation device with the word “splash” across the top. “He’s the lifeguard,” Emil says.

The pool is a hot tub, really—jetted, with a seat—though Emil doesn’t heat it. It helped sell her on the odd little house she bought two years ago when the photographer moved to Las Vegas. She says her Realtor looked aghast as they walked through the mirrored front hallway and into a windowless living room with a brick fireplace, but Emil just ran through the home giggling. “The house is weird, and so am I. It feels like God built me this house,” she laughs. “Thanks, God.”