How pathetic am I?

I'm playing "stay-at-home-wife" today. Just playing it. I am doing laundry, tidying the house for a guest this weekend, running errands (pick up/drop off dry cleaning, groceries, etc.), went for a tan (trying to get rid of my heinous farmer's tanlines for the wedding) and hopefully, writing job applications.

For my grocery-shopping errand, I went to our usual place, a local Korean market. The produce there is soooooo much better than the generic chains. The selection is better; everything is fresher, and the prices are generally lower. We lurves our H-Mart. I bought tons of produce. Then I moved on to the deli counter to check out the seafood, thinking I'd buy some fish for dinner tonight.

And there I realized it.

I got this totally uncomfortable feeling as the self-awareness dawned over me.

I am a girl of the 'burbs.

Yes, it's true. As much as I may claim to be ethnic, it's a farce. Any vestiges of being ethnic were whitewashed by growing up firmly ensconced in the 'burbs.

Because, when I went to the fish counter, I realized I was much more comfortable searching among the unnatural, packaged stacks of styrofoam trays with slabs of filets and fish steaks under plastic than looking at the whole fish on ice, which were still in their original, scale packaging.

Gosh, I've grown up in such a sanitized, removed-from-the-reality-of-how-food-gets-to-our-table world that fresh fish was less appealing than chunks on styrofoam trays. And ya' know, I wouldn't even know how to prepare a whole fish, to tell the truth.

::sigh::

Once I realized my shame, I promptly went to the counter and bought some unpackaged filets. A compromise between the styrofoam and the fins and tail version.

We're having tilapia tonight.