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Mar 30, 2010

I’m Not Cut Out For These Clean Streets.

I’m bored.

Out of my mind.

As in Spent-Two-Days-In-My-Jammies bored.

As in Looking-Forward-To-A-Trip-To-The-Grocery-Store bored.

As in Actually-Cleaned-The-House-A-Little bored.

The problem?

I hate the suburbs.

A lot.

Last week man found me in our bedroom staring at my computer and blubbering like a psychotic quietly weeping all over a torn tissue.  I’d been ruminating over photos of my old neighborhood, of the coffee shop where I hung out, of a  street that I could navigate with my eyes closed…

“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, handing me a new tissue to replace the one I’d demolished.

I remained silent.  Well, unless you count the mewling.

“Well…?”

“I…” I began, but lost my nerve. 

He stared at me.  Stared through me.

“Baby, I love you, and I love our life, and I’m so glad I’m here, but…”

“But what?”

Then, with all the emotion of a guilty spouse divulging the excruciating details of a torrid indiscretion, I pulled in a deep breath and blurted out the following words:

“I-I-I H-haaaate the Sub-bur-bur-(choke)-burbs!”  And then begin to sob.

The confession hung in the air between us for what felt like forever.  He stood in heavy silence as I blubbered and bawled over and over again “I hate it!  I hate it so much!  I’m so sorry, but I hate this town!”

I watched, helpless, as he pulled a screwed up face.

He got all tight lipped, like I’d just fed him a lemon.

His eyes watered.

Then he began… To laugh.  Hysterically.

“FINALLY!” He chuckled, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “I’ve been waiting a year for you to admit you hate it here!”

W-what?” I sniffled, coughed, wiped.

He sat on the bed beside me and wrapped his arm snugly around my shoulders.  Respectfully he tried to contain his giggles.  Thanks.

“Baby, nobody in their right mind likes it here.  I’ve been thinking there’s something wrong with you because you keep saying you like it here.”

“I lied.”  Sniffle, wipe, weep. “I didn’t want you to think I was going to up and leave someday.”

“Oh, Baby.. I wouldn’t think that!

Thanks.  Not only am I bored, but I’m boring and predictable to boot.  Not to mention stationary.  I feel better by leaps and bounds now.

Suburbia[1]

After he graduates, we’re moving.

8 comments:

Jay said...

I totally agree. The suburbs suck. They are so boring and bland.

My Husband's Watching TV... said...

What a sweet sweet man! I like this post.

Amanda said...

I personally love the suburbs, but I can see how it would be pretty mind numbing for someone who isn't used to it. I felt this way when I lived back in WV -- just stuck and hopeless! But there's a light. How much longer until graduation?

Monique-aka-Surferwife23 said...

You need to get the hell out of dodge.

I love my suburb life but I have a feeling it's deifferent from the suburb you're in. I still have everything close by.

Em Static said...

Jay: By comparison to the nine years I spent living in Center City Philadelphia, yes. However, it is nice to not have to wade through a sea of crackies and crazies to get to my front door.

MHWT: He is. Most of the time.

Amanda: I'm just used to living in the center of everything. I'm not familiar with being two miles from a Starbucks... Or from anything for that matter. I'm definitely a city girl. Oh yeah, two years give or take.

Monique: I'm counting down the time until I can get out of Dodge... Or at least a little closer to downtown Dodge, anyway.

MrsDixon said...

Have you ever heard the original theme song to the Bravo show WEEDS? It jokes about the suburbs being "little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same"....look it up...you will laugh! :)

Amy said...

LOL! That's hysterical!

Christine Macdonald said...

I am from Waikiki so am VERY spoile. I had 'city life' and 'paradise' rolled in one. I don't do well in sub's either. Happy you are moving!