June 8, 1997

Woke up to a beautiful day. I wanted to eat breakfast on the deck, but as I was cooking, our lovely neighboors started making a tremendous ruckus on their back porch that involved basketballs (in a 4x8 area? huh?) and yelling and grunting. Can't they just talk at a normal level? What's so hard about that?

We ate inside, then we left and bought a paper. We decided to go look at houses in Reston. I've always thought Reston was scary, in that it's really sterile. In another way though, it's not unlike the planned community I was raised in, Park Forest. It's so *clean* and perfect. I'm convinced there is some dirty secret in Reston, like Stepford Wives or something. All the real estate agents admitted "I've lived here for n years." Hmmm...maybe it's a plot.