Hello. I'd like to introduce myself, Margo, and my fiancé, Andrew. We've undergone some great changes in the past few weeks. Once urban-dwellers and world-travelers, we've moved to suburban California. After an uncomfortable period of adjustment, when Andrew's face paled at the sight of the office park where he'd begin working, we seem to have settled in just fine. This week, we made a big shopping trip to a Wal-Mart Supercenter. The air-conditioning inside was phenomenal. The prices were ridiculously low. The aisles were wide, our cart almost too big to push. There, we bought a small grill. Last night, Andrew grilled us bratwursts on our small deck. We're considering buying a used SUV. Andrew actually wore a polo shirt to work today, rather than his standard long-sleeved button-down. ("I look like I work at Best Buy," he said doubtfully.) Who are we??? It is officially the New Us.
Truth be told, grilling was perfectly pleasant, the northern California evenings dusky and cool. And the suburban grocery prices are shockingly good. Some things--our deck, our grill, the apartment complex's pool and hot tub (I guess not Wal-Mart)--are definitely worth sticking around for.
Nonetheless, the skin of the New Us might have to be shed again, sooner rather than later. It's possible--very possible--that we might be moving back East. We might be leaving the Wal-Mart Supercenter behind (seriously, it was the biggest store I've ever seen, anywhere--so big that my legs actually hurt after walking the length of it a few times to get what we needed). It's, thankfully, very possible that we will not be buying a Jeep Cherokee, regardless of how low the price is. We don't have any inkling yet of what might happen. But each day, the amoebic uncertainty hovering before us takes on a few more edges. The shape--whatever it will be--will surely emerge soon.