It's hard work to look good.

And not just the bod...I'm talkin the landscaping, people. Workin' the fields is a full-time job. And some people are just cut out for it. This girl was not built for manual labor I can tell you that right now. I tried telling H-ette that before he went and bought us a small town, i.e. 1.5 acres to manage. That's like an entire city block, for you NY folk. Seriously. And it's almost all grass, and H-ette and I do all the work. He puts the overalls on and rides the mower around, cutting the grass. I put my big straw hat on and knee pads and weed, weed, weed. I stake the flowers, I cut the flowers, I watch the flowers die, I unstake them. It's like a perilous fight, and I'm on the losing end. Our ground is so friggin fertile, as soon as I pick a weed, there's a new one, with a face on it and all, that pops up from the soil and looks me square in the face, like, "what...what are you gonna do about it?" Swear. I guess there is a moral to the story here. Well, maybe there are a few.

1. When buying a house, make sure you get in writing that there shall be a gardener and a maid that come with the deal.
   
2. When buying a house, stick to enough land that you can see with your naked eye. Like, the kind of yard you'd be able to run around once and not be completely winded.
3. When planting a garden, be advised that once things start to grow, they G R O W. And thus, planting 12 varieties of tomatoes might sound like a hedonistic suburban pleasure, but when those suckers start to grow, you will have hundreds of tomatoes. What you do with these tomatoes is up to you. It won't be pretty.
4. When moving to the suburbs, just get over yourself and get rid of all your cute, designer clothes. Those days are over. Your ass will be shopping for fashion at Target for the next 20 years. You'll need outfits that can take you from work, to the grocery store, to run errands, to pulling stupid weeds in the garden, to cleaning the godforsaken house that is swimming with dust (see previous post on dust). Your Theory, Tracey Reese, Marc Jacobs, Nanette Lepore days are gone. The quicker you admit this and move on the easier the break up will be.
   

On the plus side? I'm sitting outdoors on my patio, barefoot, as I type this, staring into my lush, fertile veggie garden, drinking a margarita on the rocks, in perfect 72 degree weather. Where are you?

Compromises are the key to life.