Call of the Sirens
Monday, July 24, 2006
Can you hear it?

This weekend, I spent some time in the outer suburbs visiting with my sister and her family. While I love hanging out with her, and I think her children are some of the cutest beings on the planet, being out there sometimes makes me a little sad.

We had a nice little Saturday planned - Bed, Bath & Beyond, Home Depot...just kidding. First stop? Parent-n-Tot gymnastics for my niece. In my mind, I imagined this would be somewhat like that scene from Baby Boom where poor J.C. Wiatt is standing in line to put her baby on the rings (and release!) and backs away in terror. You know, because I'm sure those facilities exist, where babies are all lined up, swinging from gymnastic rings. And what the hell was up with those matching grey sweatsuits?! She looked totally washed out.

Oh my God, focus Jamie.

The class was hilarious, the kids were adorable (including the little fireball that kept running away and jumping into the pit of foam blocks, never to be found again), and I'm pretty sure the instructor had a big, fat cocktail afterwards. I sure as shit would have.

Then we headed back to their house to see the annual village parade. Before it began, Bri claimed it was too bright outside (as part of a larger tantrum) so I gave her my sunglasses to wear. Nicole Richie, eat your heart out!


A few fire trucks, some politicians, municipal pageant winners, and far flung Laffy Taffys later, it was over. It was pretty cute, actually. The police cars were black and white Volkswagen Bugs. I imagined them raiding a crack house, and seeing SWAT forces pour out of these Bugs, like a clown car. They had floodlights, sirens, and everything. Maybe the battering ram roof rack is an upgrade?

I'm no genius, but I'm pretty sure the Geek Squad doesn't arrive armed with nightsticks and mace.

Then it was off to the area shopping mall to do suburban things, like comparison shop for vacuums. (I need to get one for my next apartment - black dog, white carpet! A recipe for hairy disaster!) I found the one I want, and now just have to come up with about a MILLION MORE DOLLARS because I DAMN, I am a picky vacuum consumer. You don't live amongst the tumbleweeds of black dog hair, so just shut up already.

There is something innately comforting to me about the suburbs. You can get to anything you need in less than 15 minutes. Your car is waiting for you, covered(!!!) right next to your living quarters - not in a lot somewhere, maybe a couple blocks away, maybe covered in snow and ice and in need of a 30-minute scrape. Things are cheaper in the suburbs - guns, butter, petroleum, Twizzlers, all the staples of life, really. It was almost enough to have me second guessing my decision to buy in the city. In the city, a "milk and eggs" run might take upwards of 45 minutes (not to mention the mental planning). In the suburbs, 10 minutes tops. And no worries about parking.

It's enough to make a girl go crazy, I tell you. I'm not one of those snobs who shuns the suburbs - I like my city life, too...but I gotta be honest. I'm starting to really get strong cravings for fenced backyards (a backyard of any kind, really), free parking, and strip malls.

Is that wrong?