I would say with the utmost certainty that two percent of the population ends up doing what they said they were going to do in the childhood “when I grow up” stories. Probably because nobody says that they want to move to the suburbs and live as a middle class family. Except maybe that creepy kid that wiped boogers everywhere.
That doesn’t mean that 98% of the population is unhappy, though. Life happens – you find your niche of friends, you take a job that you somewhat enjoy and feel comfortable in and then you meet someone you plan on spending the rest of your life with. Sometimes in that order, sometimes in an order that makes absolutely no sense, but hey, it’s how it worked out.
I went to college in the suburbs of Chicago, but moved to the city before I had even graduated. I felt it’s where I belonged. My belonging was entrenched even further when I got a real, full time job a few years after college was over (you know, the thing we all thought would totally be waiting for us as soon as we were handed our diploma). I had my friends, and I had my job. Then I met that someone.
I should have known, but girls have a lot of shit. Way more than guys do. My two bedroom condo was obsolete as soon as my girlfriend (now fiancé) moved in. Her name is Beth, so if you would like to refer to as a “Hollywood pet name” call us Weth. If you have a lisp than Weth is what you say when you try to say Wes, anyway. So we decided, in our infinite wisdom, to move to the suburbs and get ourselves a house with a yard. We also decided to have our wedding at the house we hadn’t even picked out yet.
There is so much on our plate right now that I sort of want to throw up on the whole idea. Maybe make a diorama of the house and just puke all over it. But that would be messy, and I’m not artistic. Instead, I’m going to write this weekly article. In it you’ll find quips and little stories about train rides and tourists who have no idea where they are going. But you’ll also find out how we are adjusting to life as suburbanites planning a wedding and decorating our house. I mean, seriously, I have to mow grass now.
One of my friends referred to it as a hipster coming of age story. So I hope you enjoy it.