Friday, January 21, 2011

Click Your Stylish Heels Together…

…because we’re not in Kansas anymore, and by Kansas I mean anywhere, we are off the 435946Cmap. I am a city girl. Every cell in my body screams out for a large chai latte, a fresh magazine from my favorite kiosk, and texting friends last minute to meet you at that thing you heard about by reading that poster board at your favorite café/mid-afternoon bar/hot lunch spot de jour. I love walking, up streets, down streets, across town, through the shopping district; not over the river and through the woods.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m also an avid hiker and love to camp. I spent two weeks backpacking through Scotland with The Professor, two days of which were spent in the Highlands donning my 40lbs pack in the rain. I can do the outdoors. That doesn’t mean I want to live in the middle of it. Not that the cottage is refined camping, a term I’ve used in the past for actual residences of mine. It’s a nice house, on a nice piece of land, on a beautiful lake. But it’s in nowhere, literally. The address of the cottage is made up. A few years ago it had no address and when county governments down here needed to start cataloging addresses for maps and gps systems, they asked The Professor’s family to make one up. We don’t even get our mail sent here.

The closest “town” is about 25 minutes away by car, not so much the downtown lifestyle to which I’d grown accustomed. After trying computing-womenout three grocery stores I’ve found one only 30 minutes away, but it is a poor man’s version of the one 45 minutes away. Besides food, which is  basic necessity, I’ve taken to acquiring all my worldly needs over the internet, including by not limited to crafting supplies, photo printing services, and birthday gifts. I yearn for the days when all I need to was pop out of my row-house door and grab anything within two to seven blocks. I actually miss the city bus, something I thought I never would, breakfast-signand even the scary, publicly drunken man who basically lived at my stop. I miss Sunday breakfasts with The Professor at the place we had made our place, trying out new restaurants, deciding last minute to see a film at the indie theatre, and of course having access to all the public transportation one could desire. I’m getting used to driving an hour to go to a plaza, that connects to another plaza, that has an exit off the highway.

5329918775_fd1daa4a9eAlso, where is the good Eastern food in the South? I’ve found some Chinese food, which was not a pleasant experience. But where is the Pho, the Thai, the Indian, the Japanese (and not that awful Japanese buffet recommended to us by the man with the baby-eating cats.) Cross your fingers that my job search will deliver me urban bound once more. If only for the pad thai and wonton soup.

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