Suburbia

Okay, first of all, we are currently sitting in our tiny little office upstairs, Fall Out Boy absolutely blaring from Jason's computer (which has a ridiculously amazing sound system), yelling over the music about whether or not the lead singer from Panic! At the Disco is part of Fall Out Boy. I think we're just having a moment of glee about not having to worry about Bobbi next door or Linda upstairs--yes, we've lived in a real house for going on six months, but every once in a while you have to let loose just because you can.

That we are having a conversation (as we click around iTunes) about music we don't usually listen to is a sure sign that we've been in the car listening to the radio today. This morning we had a brunch with some folks from church who live in Herndon, so we decided to head farther west to the outlet mall in Leesburg and make the most of our time in the suburbs. A day in the suburbs usually means a trip to Wal-Mart (where we bought the same fake tree they were selling at the craft store near our house for $19.95 instead of $79.99. Score.) and hopefully includes a meal at Red Robin. Walking into Red Robin is like being suddenly transported to Meridian, and I fully expected to meet my mom and Cole at the table when we sat down--in fact, the similarities are so uncanny that while I was reminiscing about my days as a Red Robin waitress I actually said "living here is a different experience than living there," and by "here" I meant Meridian and by "there" I meant DC. Weird.

Once we got our dose of cheap products and steak fries, we drove back to Arlington with the radio on, discussing whether Alanis Morsette has lost her edge now that she's married and happy and what we were doing the year that Wallflowers song came out. One of my coworkers, who lives on Capitol Hill and walks to work, always talks about those of us who drive to work as if we are raising chickens in our back yards, but she is misled. DC is a weird city. Since it was created by Congress sort of after-the-fact, most of the closest surrounding cities--Alexandria, Arlington, Falls Church--actually existed before the Revolutionary War. Perhaps that means, then, that DC is a suburb of Alexandria, and not the other way around? And Arlington, where we live, used to be part of DC until the city retroceded it back to Virginia in 1846. (Other tidbits from Wikipedia--did you know Arlington was ranked the most educated city (even though it is actually a county) in the country in 2006?) In fact, because District law restricts the height of buildings in DC (they cannot be taller than the US Capitol Dome), there are no skyscrapers in the city--they are all across the Potomac in Arlington.

Today's trip to the land of falling prices and chain restaurants, then, required a good 45 minute drive. I'm slightly conflicted about suburbia. On the one hand, it seems nice to get out of the city, and I do love big parking lots and new houses. But it's always a relief to get back to our tiny little house on the edge of Old DC, complete with fantastic ethnic food and easy access to downtown--only with cheaper gas and groceries stores that are not known as "The Un-Safeway."

Last week my mom cashed in a frequent flier ticket and came to just hang out for a wonderful, laid back weekend during which Jason promised she wouldn't be put to work. We went shopping and ate Chocolate Molten Cake at Chili's--twice. It was simply the best.

In other news...well, there is no other news. When you work for the government, you get used to having three-day weekends now and then, but I have to say, MLK weekend is one of the best--mostly because it always sneaks up on me, coming in the middle of January when I don't yet desperately need a long weekend. It's easy to fill other long weekends with trips and projects and guests, but since I always forget about MLK weekend I never think to plan ahead and instead simply spend the weekend just being. When we wake up tomorrow, it will be snowy and cold, and after church we will light a fire and curl up in blankets and read books. Or turn on the space heater in the basement and finally put away the Christmas decorations. Or make cookies. Or...