We recently moved out of a one bedroom condo.
By "we" I mean, my husband, myself and our 11 month old.
Out of a 700 square foot, one-bedroom condo in a high rise in downtown Chicago.
Yeah, good times.
But now that we're doing this suburban thing, I realize that there were certain luxuries about living downtown. For one? We were anonymous.
Sure, certain people might know us as those people who are stupid enough to live in a one bedroom with a baby but they lived on other floors. They had other schedules. They had other lives. In the condo, I could happily do whatever the hell I wanted and continue to be encapsulated in our suffocatingly small little place. The people living around us largely ignored us.
The neighbors were not the issue. Because in that condo, we had all the tension we could take already inside the walls.
So, now that we've moved to the suburbs, I'm slowly realizing that things are not so casual now. My neighbors know where I live. I'm no longer one of hundreds of people crammed into a four building complex. I'm one of three people living in a house.
This was never more evident than when I decided to clean out our fridge before garbage day. We had some Italian beef that needed to get trashed. I dump it into the garbage bag where it promptly begins to ooze out. Fantastic.
So, my new-homeowner self begins to freak. I crouch low to the ground and scurry with the bag so the mess will be kept in a confined space. I rush around the side of the house and hurl the bag into our garbage can. I fly back into the house to get paper towels to cleanse the beef juice from my garage floor.
As I do this I realize: the garage door is open. People are driving by. And I have enacted this insane garbage tossing ballet for the whole neighborhood to see.
While wearing plaid pajama pants. And turquoise knee-high socks. And an orange shirt that says "Don't need no credit card to ride this train".
So, yeah. Casual Friday is over. As is casual anytime they can see me. Because I have already established myself as the nutso of the neighborhood.
Or, I could just roll with it and prepare to host my own White Trash Bash.
Thanks for having me - I'm so lucky to be here. If only I had some champagne at my desk, I'd celebrate champagne friday early.
ReplyDeleteYou only need to remember that all the crazy things YOU'RE doing, they're doing too. Yes they are. They might pretend otherwise, but they are lying.
ReplyDeleteTrust me. I've been in the burbs for YEARS.
Funny post. Hopefully, you will find that neighbors do that sort of stuff, too, and you won't even notice - just like they didn't notice you. And, if they did... just share the champagne!
ReplyDeleteLiterally our first 5 days in our new house, my husband locked himself out of the house in the garage with just his shoes and gym shorts and had to walk over to the neighbor's house to call me. So basically what I'm saying is that you'll eventually have no shame and will sling that beef all around God's creation.
ReplyDeleteI think what you will find is that your neighbors are just as nutso, you just haven't lived there long enough to see it. And if it's any consolation...about a week after we moved into our house on base, I locked myself out of the house wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. Literally. And then I had to walk over to the neighbors across the street to see if I could use their phone to call my husband to get him to bring the keys so I could put go inside. And put on a bra. And the neighbors weren't there but the in-laws were because the neighbors were bringing home their brand new baby in like 30 minutes. Yeah, awkward. Here's to hoping they only see you in your most ultimate fabulousness from here on out! ;)
ReplyDeleteI think you should go all out and BE the nutso of the neighborhood. Wear that badge with honor!!
ReplyDeleteklz, you cannot be the strangest person in suburbia. But surely, you have the coolest t-shirts.
ReplyDeleteOh goodness. That's hilarious! If only you knew some of my most embarrassing homeowner stories. You would feel so much better, I assure you.
ReplyDeleteKelly
Maybe I'm an exhibitionist but I kind of like to know strangers are watching me do something weird, like ineptly checking my oil or tripping as I walk up the driveway from the mailbox.
ReplyDeleteI say embrace it and maybe you'll get a super-cool neighborhood nickname!
You need to start doing all kinds of wacky crap to really make yourself look like the new crazy of the neighborhood!
ReplyDeleteHaha! Welcome to suburbia. My husband and I are preparing to move into our own place in the neighborhood where I grew up. I'm worried. There's no more anonymity for us! I'm so not used to the neighborhood thing anymore. Rock those socks though, girl! I have big fluffy pink socks that often make their way into flip flops in the fall when I just need to run to the mailbox. :)
ReplyDeleteHaaaa!!! That sounds like me just about every morning. My trash bags are forever leaking something sinister and disgusting. And I'm scurrying through the alley to dispose of the contents while wearing the world's most mismatched psychotic outfit. Oh how I wish we were neighbors.
ReplyDelete