My Favorite D2 album

In the past two months, Hubby & I have spent more weekends in Detroit than we had here in Chicago. That’s the most we’d been home since the beginning of the year.

Needless to say, we’ve been listening to a lot of good tunes in our digital library during five-plus hour drive home.

Lately I’ve been on a Duran Duran kick; thanks to Hubby downloading their entire digital library. And it’s been fun singing Rio and Hungry Like The Wolf at the top of my lungs somewhere between Battle Creek and Jackson. But I must admit, I’ve been playing their first studio album more than the others.

It’s that album, simply titled Duran Duran, that reminds me of being 12 years old again and camping in Kitchener Ontario with my cousins. Where we’d play that cassette tape over and over again, most likely driving our parents insane.

It’s fun listening to the songs that never made it to the radio; those B-sides or other non-single-worthy ones. (Night Boat, anyone?) It’s like going back to visit an old friend and reminiscing about old times. Remembering how things were back in those days.

Duran Duran’s first studio album was very … New Wave. Lots of synth and distorted guitar; awesome awesome bass lines and — as I listen to it more and more — some incredibly complicated drumming.

Not that I don’t like the rest of their albums … I just wonder what it would’ve been like if they stayed in that New Wave sound, rather than heading to a more Pop-oriented direction. Perhaps they wouldn’t be as mainstream. Perhaps they would have never hit it big. Who knows?

I had that thought in my head since our drive back to Chicago last week. And that thought lead to another one which had me contemplating a couple “What If’s” in my own life.

Now, I must clarify before I head down this path … I typically don’t do this; travel down the road of “Shoulda, Coulda , Woulda.” Especially since I’m usually pretty deliberate about the choices I make in life.  (Well, at least I am now … ) So what I’m about to write below, is more of a … dream sequence, if you will.

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A "New Romantic" Duran Duran

When Hubby & I got back from our honeymoon, we started house-hunting. After seeing quite a number of houses, we finally narrowed it down to two. One was closed to both our places of employment and perfect as a “starter home.” It was only built two years prior; and it had more of a modern feel to it with open ceilings and skylights. It was one we thought would be easy to resell if we needed to move to a bigger place once we had our kids. But for the time-being, it would have been a perfect two-story home for the two of us.

The second home was older and a bit further from our work places. It a ranch-style home with bigger bedrooms and a finished basement. It had a large kitchen and dining room where we could see having family gatherings. Oh, and the best part (at least for me)? In-ground pool in the back yard (it’s the Cancer in me that looooves water!!). This was a house that was was ready for a family; ready for a couple to start their family.

So, out of the two … which one do you think that Hubby & I chose? I’ll even give you a couple seconds to think about it.

.

.

.

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We chose the first house. Well, rather *I* chose the first house; Hubby defaulted on me to make the decision.

To me, it made more logical sense. Close to work. Easy to sell (so we thought at the time). And perfect as a “starter” home. Oh, and not to mention quite a bit less in price than the second house.

And I truly did love our house. It was funky; it was cute. And it was close to two “downtown” locales where we could hang out on a nice sunny day.

Except now it’s been close to 14 years — not to mention a move to a different city — and the house remains ours. There had been no need to “upgrade” to a bigger house since the kids never came. Nor was there the finances to do so, after all the infertility treatments we had paid for. And when the opportunity to move to a different city amidst the economic downfall of 2009, our house remained (remains) in our name.

So this is where I start to wonder “What if.”

As in “What if I chose the second house? Would we still be living in Suburban Detroit? Would we have had no reason to move to another house … let alone another city? Would we have those children we always wanted? Would Hubby & I have stayed in the same jobs … or better yet, move up in our respective careers? Or, better yet … would I have finally been able to be that stay-at-home Mom that I always wanted to be?

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My Cousin got to meet JT back in the late '80's. Totally jealous!

At the end of August, our lease will be up on our 2nd floor walk-up in Chicago. With Hubby freelancing and diligently working at trying get financially vested in a “virtual” ad agency that he & two others have started … well, the income hasn’t been too steady and reliable.

And me … well, let’s just say I’m still unemployed. For now. Which means that I have no income coming in at the moment. (Cross your fingers that I’ll not be unemployed for much longer!)

In any case, this means that our stay here in Chicago may be time-limited. Although not completely set in stone (things change from day to day), it looks like we’ll be moving back to the house in Suburban Detroit. The same house that contains many of those memories that I hoped to put away once we moved to Chicago.

Realistically we know that it makes sense to move back and regroup, so to speak, until our house sells. But emotionally … I feel as  if I’ve failed in my goal to start anew.

I know it’s futile to think of what could have been; especially if things didn’t turn out the way they did here in Chicago (in regards to my employment). And I know that my life experiences and the decisions I’ve made in my life have made me the person I am today.

But sometimes … just sometimes … I wish that I could peer into my future so that I can make the right decisions now.

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(Just for you, Kara … )

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