“When you stop doing things for fun, you might as well be dead.”– Ernest Hemingway.
Growing up in the city, the suburbs seemed like such a foreign, mystical place.
In my mind, Minnetonka was like Eagleton from Parks and Recreation, or Wisteria Lane from Desperate Housewives. A place that seemed too extravagant to be real. People talked about it like it was some magnificent place; so unlike the neighborhoods I knew.
One time my family took a “road-trip” to Excelsior. It’s 30 minutes from my house but MAN did that feel far. A world away from the NE Minneapolis I knew so well.
As a bitter teenager, I dissed the suburb snobs and embraced my city lifestyle. I swore I would never move more than a stones throw from a skyline, and definitely would never find myself loving aspects of suburban life. Oops.
Bennett is the first person I’ve known to be from the foreign land known as Chanhassen. It’s a short drive from the city, but is far enough to make it feel like I’m on vacation. And truly, the second I step into that house, I am.
The end of college also means the end of living in Dinkytown. Bennett is no longer my neighbor. Between starting work full time and adjusting to the added distance, it’s be a tough few months. I crave the weekends when I venture out to the burbs.
When the suburbs contain all of the following (including my boyfriend!), what’s not to love? :
Boating and floating.
The best food and drinks
Screen porch napping/reading/Internet searching/crossword puzzle doing. Okay, anything. Anything in the screen porch.
And, cats. (Obviously!)
Maybe I’m not as much of a city girl as I thought…
(Don’t worry NE Mpls, you’ll always have my <3)