Suburbia.

Maybe it's the heat that gets me all riled up. Or the lack of sleep. Or the restlessness that comes with not being very productive (read: my house is a mess, the laundry is out of control, I haven't edited more than 3 hours since Friday, and I still don't know what to make for dinner). Maybe it's a combination of all those things. Regardless, I'm raging today.

So I have an extra large (Venti) case of the grumpies today. I'm not generally a retail-therapy kind of girl (I'm not including my pajama/sock obsession because they are needs and not wants), but today I decided to make an exception. When I buy for fun, it's always either books or music. That sound of a book opening for the first time, the same kind of crack a CD makes after you get all that obnoxious tape off, it's as exciting as the cork popping off a bottle of champagne. And don't even get me started on the smell of a book or the cardboard cover of a record. (If you were to see me right now, you'd notice my eyes closed, I'm inhaling deeply, and I have a slight smile on my face. Not embarrassing. Not at all.)

Anyway, I bought a crap ton of books last week, checked out a crap ton more at the library, am beta reading for a friend, and have FREEDOM glaring at me from the coffee table, so I figured I would buy a CD or two. Most of my CDs in the past few years have been purchased online through iTunes. While I really enjoy the instant gratification of music when I want it, probably like some people like the convenience of ebooks, it's just not the same as holding a CD or record in your hands. I love reading the liner notes. I love finding a spot for the case/jacket in my collection. I love the feeling of ownership. The music I have strictly on my computer doesn't really feel like it's mine, more like I've borrowed it.

MG and I put on our shoes and got in the car. It was then I realized that I had no idea where to go. My recent music purchases have been at Disc Replay, but it's such a crap shoot there and I had a very specific idea of what I wanted to take home. The only other place I could think to go was Best Buy, because I knew Target wouldn't have what I was looking for. So we went in and found NOTHING. Not my first choices, not even my second or third. Lame. I left disgusted.

When I was younger (OMG, I'm turning into one of *those* people) there was a record store down the street from my house that had so many options. I would walk there almost every day after school, and wander the aisles with my notebook, listing the albums I wanted. Then, when I got my license, my friends and I would drive two towns over to this place called Sound Warehouse, where they not only had gobs of CDs, tapes, and vinyl, but a giant import section. Like dying and going straight to heaven. If heaven is a live recording of Nirvana in Japan or a bootleg of Malfunkshun. Where are these places today? Why do I have to drive 45 minutes to Chicago to find them?

And that got me thinking about the latte I really wanted. Where are all the local cafes? The ones you can sit in without feeling like they want to push you and your loud kid out? The ones that *feel* like a coffee shop and not some over-designed space? I hate to say this, because I worked there for 10 years, but Starbucks has gotten increasingly sterile and it's not a place I feel comfortable hanging out in anymore. So I went through the drive-thru. Because there isn't anything else around, and I needed espresso.

Maybe it's not all suburbs. Maybe it's just here. But I feel like everything is so homogenized. And it's such a bore. There's no fun in seeing fifteen Top 40 titles on a shelf, with no other options. There's no sense of community at the drive-thru window. I never saw myself as a city girl. I like space and I like quiet and I like green. But I also miss options, and I miss people. And I wonder if maybe a move is a good idea.

Listening to: Ryan Adams "Rock N Roll"

xo. kb.