home on the range

I've had the occasion this week to venture into several homes of acquaintances. Each one has been fairly good sized, decorated beautifully in a way I could never fathom and which makes me want to ask who cleans all this shit but of course I don't. I gape in somewhat stuttered awe and each time think we can never invite anyone over who doesn't already know how we live, we don't have a couch, table, chair, dining room insert just about anything else and add dirty carpet to it and that'll sum it up. And yet I know it's just stuff and I know it's silly and it really isn't envy because I know we are focusing on a different sort of goal but it's odd to see people in my age group with homes like this or better said perhaps I will never be able to act my age and this fact needs to stop surprising me.

So because I have no tact it slipped out because while I know the woman I don't really know her husband, when I crossed the landing and took in the gigantic two story with leather couches and an island in the kitchen I said damn, K, you are such a freaking grown up and she laughed but her husband looked at me curiously, probably and safely noting to himself let's never go to that chick's house. ever.