Lost in suburbia

I recently visited my dentist. As I was walking down the hall, the receptionist asked if I'd like a magazine and suggested I choose something from the left-hand side where "Ladies' Home Journal" and "Home and Garden" were displayed. The other tier contained magazines about "politics and business -- boring stuff," she assured me. I considered saying something quippy about how I have been writing about politics and business for 20 years and don't consider it at all boring. I used to speak up more when I was younger, just to shake up people's perceptions. I look like what I am: a 40-something suburban mom. But that doesn't mean mommy and political junkie can't exist in the same person.

My quips have not succeeded in educating the world, however, and some days I choose to stop trying. The tide keeps coming back in to wash away my sand castles.

Also, I realize that the receptionist was trying to be nice -- something I appreaciate more now than at a younger time. She wasn't trying to make me feel alienated and freakish, even if that was the result.

It's been about 18 months since I stopped commuting from suburban Long Island into Manhattan. I miss it. Now it's suburbia for both home and work. All suburban, all the time.