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Finals week on the nerdy campus. (It's not in the Nerdy Nine - yet - but it's a newbie contender.) Studious gamers' nerdvana. Lots of bad shoes, neck beards, Korean and Chinese language, and quite a few hijabs. Then suddenly, down the walkway comes a fresh breeze. It's a gaggle of gals fresh out of snoburbia, fit, smiling, with long hair, blonde and brown. Couldn't have stood out more if they had tried. Then I saw one of them had a jacket on with a team logo: the women's lacrosse team.
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My son took the SSAT this morning at a nearby prep school. To drop off, I got in line behind the Mercedes SUV, Mercedes sedan, Porsche, Lexus, and Range Rover.
Just for yucks, when it was time to pick him up a few hours later, I decided to get in line in my husband's spare car, a rusty 1991 Nissan Altima with missing hubcaps. It's the small things.
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A certain high school senior I know said he needed to go to a "beach week meeting" at a friend's house. A beach week* meeting? It was the third one and he had missed the first two. There was a printed agenda, including who was going to make the Costco run.
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* Beach week is when hordes of snoburbia high school seniors go to Bethany Beach the week after graduation, closely followed by the Montgomery County Police, who try to make sure kids lose their college scholarships because of underage drinking.
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I was at a fun event, chatting with husband-and-wife doctors, when the guy said, "I have to go. I have to help my sixth grader study for his midterms." Oh my God! Help my sixth grader study for his midterms? I hadn't thought of that! Are people doing that?
So I went home. My sixth grader was watching Nyan Cat videos.
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I am always searching for an alternative to my Cheetos/Diet Pepsi/Nutella cocktail, as I will acknowledge it is perhaps not the best for achieving optimal health. And in snoburbia, you must constantly question and analyze your food choices for corporate responsibility and sustainability. In snoburbia, eating something because it tastes good is verboten.
So I was happy to discover a new favorite: Honest Tea's orange mango,* which has "50 percent less sugar" and contains "mangosteen, a delicious fruit from Thailand." It's organic! I have always diluted juice by at least 50 percent, so this watered down, barely sweet concoction is quite good. And its origins are right here in snoburbia. And they sell it at the snobby deli in Cabin John along with the popped chips and Italian wine. More importantly, Honest Tea "...addresses the needs of economically disadvantaged communities."
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* I just noticed that the new plastic bottle has a nearly-3/4-inch indentation hidden in the bottom. Honest.
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When I saw this floating around on Facebook, I thought it was really funny. But I also thought that it could never happen in snoburbia because no one around here does the lights overkill thing. You can't overkill understatement, right? But then I was driving and saw the snoburbia version:
Just...one...more...garland.
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In snoburbia, there is always something new about which to become snobbish. It's exhausting.
Take today, for instance. I innocently stepped into the snoburbia specialty luggage store to buy a new wallet.
So I started looking around the store at luggage. After all, I need to replace the cute, polka-dotted suitcase my daughter swiped from me. I was happy with that polka-dotted bag. I bought it a few years ago - it came with a second bag for a total price of $49.99 (JCPenney).
Luggage is just something I never have thought about. If it holds my stuff and fits into the overhead compartment, I'm good.
But after spending time in the luggage store with a very persuasive salesman, I now realllly want either the Briggs & Riley bag ($299), or the Tumi Voyager ($495). Or will the hard-sided Titan USA spinner in ocean blue ($660) haunt my dreams?
Still, I might see if there is hope at Target.
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In line at the bank yesterday, there was one of those snoburban moms behind me who was chattering away to her four year old: "You looked at art today at school - what was it? Monet? Renoir? Picasso? What did you learn?" and other loud questions, for all of us to hear.* That's because her child is the only child in the universe, and none of us ever has had children.
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* We had the Appalachian equivalent of this in my hometown, when the old guy at the front of the city bus would talk to the bus driver about his goiter.
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