Back to Suburbia

I arrived at my parents house in Michigan around midnight. As always, Mom had made me a sign.

**My mom and I sat alone on our private back patio for a while and watched a meteor shower. We saw 3 super incredible awesome ones.

**I discovered/remembered that I own a super awesome retro Schwinn bike. In suburbia, you have so much storage space that you can easily forget owning even such a major thing as a bicycle. (When I lived here before, my dad heard me say that I wanted a bike, so he got me one at a garage sale--wasn't that nice? But then the tires got flat and I couldn't figure out how to change them and then I forgot about it.)

**I tried to remember the last time I was in a house with central air-conditioning and I THINK it must have been when I was at home last summer. (I'd been in homes that had AC more recently than that, but I decided winter didn't count.) Then I realized that the air probably isn't on because this is Michigan and it's 61 degrees outside.

**Eventually I retired to my quarters in the basement. I do not believe that a mouse or cockroach ever struck the terror into my heart that I felt upon discovering that there was a bat (or some sort of dark, mysterious, ominous-looking flying creature) trapped down there and flying around like a crazed rabies-spreading disaster. This was my first ever close encounter with a bat (or other dark, mysterious, ominous-looking flying creature) and although I am very fond of throwing around the fact that more people are killed every year by their pets than have been killed by bats in recorded history, I don't mind telling you that I made like a military man and full-on belly crawled out of the basement, whimpering like I was in a war zone.

Things like this only happen in suburbia.