It’s been over two years since I moved out of New York City to the land of suburbia.
And most of the time I really like it.
Although I do miss the creative energy of the city.
I have gotten to know a lot of nice people here. In fact, last week, I was able to convince THREE of them to go see “Footloose.”
I was a bit stunned myself.
Afterwards, I was on a Let’s Hear it for the Boy high and I could hardly take a breath as I rambled… “I loved the way they had the “new Ren” wear a tie on his first day of school just like the “Kevin Bacon Ren” did and how Ariel’s prom dress was a nod to the original one. And Ariel still had those red boots. And how so much of the dialogue was the same… like when the preacher’s wife says to her husband, “You can lift a congregation up so high they have to look down to see heaven. But it’s the one to one where you need a little work” and….
That’s when I took note of a few blank stares and realized that maybe not everyone has seen the original 87 times. Which is tragic. But just the reality.
But there is one area of suburban life, where I don’t fit in.
No, not tennis. Please. I own two tennis skirts! I’m like Martina Navratilova over here. You know, if I was less straight and more Czech. I mean, I don’t exactly own a racket. But I think we can all agree that the outfit is obviously the focus of the sport.
So clearly I’ve got that tennis thing covered but I really lack the suburban spirit when it comes to food preparation. Because although I make sure my kids are well fed, I am more of a take-out girl when it comes to adult meals.
And I keep looking for my take-out soul mate out here. Another mom who does not enjoy cooking but all I seem to find are conversations about casseroles, roasted chickens and slow cookers. I mean, I just found out that a slow cooker is the same thing as a crock pot.
The very same thing.
And judging from Rick’s ecstatic response every time I make him a side salad, I’m sure he’d love it if I’d prepare something in a slow cooker. If we had one. Which we don’t.
I think back to our days in the city and sometimes I feel a wave of nostalgia as I remembering flipping through the thick pile of menus. Rick would usually order from Dallas BBQ. I’d order from a sushi place.
No discussions about the best recipe for veggie lasagna. No expectation that I am supposed to be cooking some kind of savory, low fat, well balanced meal for my family.
Not a slow cooker to be found within a 3 block radius.
Just complete food happiness with a $4 tip.