Sean and I talked on the phone the other night—it’d been too long, but that’s my fault—and he asked how things were with the house. We talked as two homeowners in their mid-20s are wont to do, and after a while, he asked me, “So, how many times have you turned and gone towards the mountain?” Meaning, of course, towards my old apartment in Huntsville.

My answer was: “None.” In fact, now that I think about it, I haven’t been east of Jordan Lane since I finished the move out here to Madison. I also haven’t been south of I-565 either, other than my flight out and back to Virginia.

I’ll have to go downtown soon—I like my barber, and I like him enough to drive into downtown—but … for someone who attended a church in far SE Huntsville and lived for three years up on Monte Sano, it’s kinda … surprising to me that I’ve so quickly acclimated myself to living here in the ‘burb.

[And yes, for sheer humor value alone, I bought Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs the first week in July. "I'm rockin' the suburbs / just like Quiet Riot did ..."]