10:59 a.m. - 2005-07-13
suburbia
Wednesday, July 13.
It's been a while since I rapped at 'ya.
I have so much to say, and I don't know if it's going to tumble out of me or ooze like molasses. I've been married for nearly a month and a half now, and I finally feel like I'm getting the hang of it, getting used to the new patterns and everything that's different. Marriage is providing me with a kind of structure that was missing from my life before. It's more solid somehow.
There is something on my mind though.
So the thing is, I don't hate living in Wheaton. It's growing on me. I love the library. I love the Saturday farmer's market. I love that the kids in our neighborhood are an anachronism, turning the corner into our little driveway is like entering a time warp into the late 50s: 10-12 kids all out in the street, making sidewalk chalk masterpieces, playing games. One day a bunch of kids came barreling into our yard asking if the dog could come out and play; all the girls had on feather boas and the boys were brandishing fake swords and wearing superhero capes. Adorable.
And the other thing is. We discovered that we could possibly afford to buy a house in Wheaton. A house: a backyard, a basement, a garage. Those words sound strangely luxurious to me, and it feels a little surreal. I'm trying not to rush into anything, trying to think of the pros, cons, consequences. Does having a backyard trump being able to walk to your favorite bar? Does a guest bedroom mean my friends would truck all the way out to the suburbs just to hang out? Yeah, I don't know either.
