Suburban life. Being a self-proclaimed (cause noone else would ever say it) ‘Domestic Diva’ one would think I long for the quiet streets and home life of suburban living. I never have. In fact I have often ridiculed my friends who have fallen into the trap of a happy home life in a cookie cutter house that I can never find because it looks EXACTLY like every other house on the street. Even when I was married and thinking about kids (yes there was a point when even I was caught up in the baby fever) I couldn’t bring myself to move out of the city and apartment living. I have tried suburban life. I really have. More than once I have lived in a house with a backyard and neighbors. It ended horribly every time. So my decision to move into a nice, neat Orange County neighborhood was a very difficult one. I spend a few seconds everyday hating the fact that I live in a cul-de-sac. Yesterday, though, I am not sure if it was the weather or the 3 Extra Strength Tylenol I had taken but I was LOVING suburban life. Does this mean I am changing to the Republican party? No, much to my mother’s chagrin. I drove home with the windows down listening to the easy listening station, stopping at Albertson’s on the way to grab some groceries. I got home, opened all the windows in the house, turned on the ‘Jukebox Gold’ music channel, took off my shoes, opened a beer, got in the kitchen, and started cooking dinner for Connie. Then I put the dog on the leash and took him for a walk, WITHOUT A HOODIE ON. Just a t-shirt. I even talked to two different neighbors on the way back from the park. And even smiled at them! I think I am becoming a mixture of Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom, Tom Hanks in The ‘burbs, and Kathleen Turner in Serial Mom. And I am not sure that’s a bad thing.
While reflecting on my new found comfort in suburbia I began to ponder what this means for my plans to move to Chicago and eventual world domination. Can one dominate the world while worrying if it’s trash day or if the lawn has gotten taller than 3/4″? Will world leaders bow to your power if you have to excuse yourself from the video conference call in which you are threatening the safety of their country to watch the neighbor’s kids get off the bus? Can one effectively direct their minions to carry out their deadly commands while wearing capri’s from Chico’s? I certainly hope so. In the meantime I will continue writing my manifesto…at least until the timer that tells me my muffins are done goes off.