"This is our last concert, dude."

"Dude, this is most likely our last show together," confessed my BFF Tarah at the June 6th Jane's Addiction/Nine Inch Nails PNC Arts Center concert in NJ.

I met Tarah in 1991. We were students at Nassau Community College. We experienced tons of stuff together. We took Nutrition class together. We studied together. We smoked cigs together. We had sleepovers. We shared secrets. We’d sit in the Garden City coffee shop on Franklin Avenue on Thursdays and enjoy pea soup together. We had each others backs when people made fun of our off-beat fashion sense and most notably, we attended dozens of shows together throughout the '90s from Lollapaloozas to the Beastie Boys to Jones Beach shows to Beck in Virginia because I was pissed that he sold out NYC...

Growing up kinda sucks… Buying houses, having babies, I mean, I know this is the natural progression and that something must be wrong with me to not be excited about it all, but the bon voyage to youth is a bit painful. Sure there will be BBQs and I’ll attend baby’s first birthday parties and communions and graduations and all that, but it’s just, I dunno, I don’t want to grow up. Like, yeah, I’m “old” but mentally I’m not. I’ve been married less than one year. We rent an apartment. We listen to the same music we liked when we were in high school. We play video games. My husband drinks too many beers. I think not being homeowners or parents aids in extending the immaturity.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally NOT complaining. It’s just that Tarah verbally pointing out the reality of her and her husband embarking on the inevitable next step in adulthood made my heart sink. They’re looking at houses and planning on having a baby soon. Once that happens, our late night phone convos will come to a halt. The IMing at work will disappear as it did with our friend Rene, whose full-time job at Travel & Leisure has since been replaced with trips to the playground, mountains of laundry, walks with the stroller and new puppy and whipping up healthy meals for her husband and their one-year-old.

I feel as if I’m stranded in Never, Never Land alone while my friends cross over to Adult World. Am I alone in this, really? Does anyone else feel this way? Is this like a late-in-life quarterlife crisis?

Sunrise or Merrick?

Andrew and I were planning our November 8, 2008 wedding on the south shore of Long Island and spending the majority of 2008 tending to wedding errands on Long Island. People from LI are very familiar with two major highways - Sunrise Highway and Merrick Road. Each can take you pretty much from Queens to Montauk.

A few weekends ago, we were heading to Drew's favorite seafood shack in Rockville Centre, on Sunrise Highway. He asked, "Are we on Merrick or Sunrise?" Easy to get confused as they are both very busy roads that run parallel along the same towns. I told him to look for the elevated Long Island Rail Road train tracks and was reminded of my youth.

When you're little, you don't know roads or towns. You simply sit in the back seat and relax while Mommy or Daddy drive you to your destination. You gaze at the store fronts and they become your landmarks. When I was a kid, my parents would take my little brother and me to Nunley's.

Nunley's was a small amusement park that was stuck in like 1959, and I always knew we were headed there when I saw the LIRR tracks along Sunrise Highway. My mom said they could never tell me when they planned on going because if something came up and we didn't get to go, I'd throw a fit. To avoid the crying tantrums complete with, "you prommmmmmised" being echoed over and over again, we'd just end up there on a random, clear, summer evening.

Nunley's was a glorious step back in time. There was a black and white photo booth and lots of very old arcade games composed of wood and metal. There was the famous fortune teller head eerily sitting in a glass box pumping out a typed fortune and lucky numbers for a dime. The large, indoor carousel had gold rings that weren't easy to reach. If we were lucky Dad would stick out his arm and grab one, because our kiddie arms were much too short.

I can still remember the warm summer breeze hitting my face while soaring down the tiny, rusty red roller coaster tracks. My little brother was small enough to ride the kiddie boats that teetered along a small pool of blue green water. We'd play mini golf and end the night with greasy fries and hot dogs. Nunley's was Long Island's Morey's Piers, minus the ocean view.

The Mickey Mouse House

Not too far from our apartment, there's a huge odd-shaped house. It's white with Kelly green trim and shutters with a red front door. Something about this house is just different. It's three stories high which is kinda high compared to the homes in the 'hood. Through the second floor windows-on a rare day when the blids are open-you can't help but notice the faces of Disney characters staring back at you. It's a tad creepy.

It makes you wonder ... Who lives there??? Although I've never seen a woman coming or going, I have witnessed a man that looks similar to one of the Seven Dwarves, only not as short, on the grounds. He has two PT Cruisers that never leave his green garage. One is white (it looks like some sort of special edition) and the other is maroon. I noticed the white one is wrapped in a clear plastic bag - cheap plastic, like the type your dry cleaning comes in.

A few months ago, I noticed the green blinds were open, giving me a pretty decent view inside the mysterious home. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw two 3 foot tall Mickey and Minnie Mouse figures perfectly posed near the windows. I couldn't wait to tell Drew. He's the only one who knows the house exists.

Every day, I feel the need to gawk at this house - I've passed it on my way to work every single day for four years now. I'm always looking to see if something weird is going on, or if the homeowner will be out watering the grass (he never is). I was surprised last week when some men were working on the driveway.

I thought this was kind of funny since it seems as if nobody ever drives in or out of this house. The next few mornings I made sure to glare to my right while traveling down this particular street hoping to catch a glimpse. It looked very specific and detailed. A week later, it appeared. Gone was the blacktop which happened to be in decent condition. In its place? A new dark green stone driveway with a HUGE image of a white outlined Mickey Mouse head smack dab in the center.

Last night, on our way home from dinner, I pointed it out to Andrew as we passed their house and he gasped and giggled about how unique the guy is. Drew replied, "I hope that guy's married, because he's so strange, what lady would want to date him?" I thought to myself. Disney isn't even really that cool - like at least if it were Hello Kitty, I'd probably have to dump Drew and meet this off-beat character!