City Interrupted

This past weekend I went up to Oak Creek, Wisconsin to spend some time with my friend Missy, who is recently married and whose husband was away on a fishing trip. After fighting through Chicago rush-hour traffic, I made my way up to the land of cheese and entered. . . dum, dum, dum!. . . suburbia. And I'm not talking Oak Park or Evanston "practically like a city" suburbia. I'm talking "brand-spanking new developments with houses that all look the same on wide cement streets where you have to drive to get everywhere" suburbia. Seriously. When I asked my friend where we could go for brunch the following morning, her best recommendation was Perkins.

Now I don't mean to disparage anyone who lives in suburbia (one of my best friends does, for gosh sakes). I just don't see how in a million years I could ever live there. Maybe my priorities will change someday, but as of right now I cannot imagine living in one of those houses surrounded by kids and swingsets.

Give me Sex and the City over Wisteria Lane any day!