August 28, 2009

Someone please bring me a pastry

Is it possible to watch "Julie & Julia" without having insatiable cravings for food?*  

No.  No, I think not.  

Particularly if you are still on a permanent dessert kick - a kick which has lasted TWO WEEKS - most likely due to the fact that you were on vacation for one entire week and failed to ever get a freaking ice cream cone.  Is there anything more blasphemous?  A week at the beach sans ice cream?  I think not.

And so when 9:45 p.m. rolled around and the credits scrolled along, goodness gracious help me if I was not in monumental need of something SWEET.  

And you know the problem?  

The problem is when you live in the suburbs**, particularly Tropical Storm Danny-affected suburbs, your options are limited.  Really limited.  Because there's no where to go for a freaking good dessert.  

There are no trendy little cupcake shops or sweet patisseries or ANYWHERE TO GET A FREAKING DESSERT.  Unless you want to go to some godforsaken chain restaurant and have them microwave you some frozen lava explosion that's been sitting in storage for decades.  

And of course, any place that MAY have been able to offer a decent dessert is probably closed.  Because it's 10 p.m.  Who CARES if it's Friday night.  It's DARK.  And therefore it must be BEDTIME.  Why yes.  Darkness = Suburban Bedtime.  

Which brings up an important question, which I've mulled over recently....
(be prepared... REALLY stimulating philosophical quandry coming up........)

...are city-folk naturally more adventerous?  I mean, is it even POSSIBLE for a homebody, a somewhat unspontaneous soul to call a major metropolitan area home?

Because really, when you live in a city, you're choosing the City over whatever small square footage you may call Home.  You're not paying for a brilliant piece of real estate (unless you're loaded - and then - lucky you - you can have whatever you want), but most likely you're paying to carve out some tiny niche of space within a bustling metropolis.  You're paying to be surrounded by culture and art and diversity and restaurants and CUPCAKES AT 2 A.M. IF YOU WANT THEM.

Can you move to a city and BECOME adventurous?  
Or is it a lost cause? 
Are you innately meant for suburbia?  
Or can the suburbia be drilled out of you?

This sugar-craving-suburbia-hating-late-night-(but not late in terms of city-time because it's only 10:40 p.m.) diatribe has now come to an end.

I'm going to make an ice cream sundae.

*Or to fall in love with Julia Child?  Or to feel inspired to chortle out loud more often?  And not care who's listening?  And to pull yourself out of your ocean and WRITE A NOVEL OR SOMETHING DAMMIT!?

**when I first typed this, I wrote "leave" instead of "live."  Freudian slip much?

{Photo via here}

1 comment:

Brandi said...

I think it's time you were adventurous and moved to the city. I didn't think I was city material until I moved to New York, but I discovered that I could easily adjust to the fantastic lifestyle the city provides (even as someone who's more of a homebody than a late night party goer). No matter where you go there are always benefits to the place and sacrifices you must make.

The boyfriend and I drove into NYC last night, down to Ferrara's in Little Italy, just to get pastries. Well, New York Cheesecake actually. It was so worth it.