Us vs. “Them”

I’ve been a city girl for as long as I can remember, having lived in Recife, Houston, Philadelphia, Boston, Toronto, London, San Francisco… (wow, I've been around!). Although I did spend time in smaller cities while in college and when I spent my senior year of high school in France, I knew that, ultimately, I would end up in a large metropolitan area.

Case in point: I don’t even have a drivers license. That’s right. Never had one, never needed one. I have learned to get around using all means of transportation possible, excluding vehicles, of course. I have ridden trains, subways, street cars, cable cars, cabs, water taxis, you name it, I’ve tried it.

When I moved to a new area, I would become familiar with the different streets and neighborhoods by running through them, pretty much always getting lost. It didn’t matter how long I had lived in a particular area, I would still get distracted during a run and before I knew it, I had no idea where I was or how I got there. This has turned many an “easy run” into a “long run,” or worse, here in San Francisco, many a flat run into a very, very hilly run (= torture).

I got used to weaving my way through busy sidewalks, running on pavement, and expertly navigating past traffic signals, strollers, homeless people, pets on leashes, pets off leashes, tourists, people who think it’s okay to walk in a large group and take up the entire sidewalk or to just stop abruptly for no reason while you do your best not to tackle them to the ground (accidentally, of course). I got using to running for miles and miles of “city” just to reach a park with actual running trails, somewhere with a few trees here and there or maybe even a dirt path—ahh, bliss. Sometimes I wouldn’t even count the miles spent getting there as part of the actual run or total distance. But it’s all getting old now.

Or maybe I’m getting old, but I find city life more and more… annoying. The loud screeching and jingling of the cable car outside my window every night that seems to go on all night long. The disgrace that is the public transportation system in San Francisco. The fact that there is not a single Target in the city. Not a single one, people! Walking for many blocks just to get to the grocery store or Trader Joe’s. And the best part: walking back, arms laden with heavy bags cutting through my skin, despite sacrificing all bulky items like milk and soda and (sob) ice cream. Oh, did I mention the way back was uphill?

The funny thing is, I have always been one of those people who mocked the nouveau-suburbanites. You know the kind. They reached their late twenties/early thirties, found someone they could settle down with, and tied the knot. Before you fully realized what was going on, said couple would be looking for houses “just outside the city.” It really wasn’t that far after all. They could easily drive to the city to go out to dinner, see a show, etc. Drive? Oh, yes, Mr. & Mrs. Nouveau-Suburbanites would also get a car. Something small and not too expensive, which they would trade for a more “practical” car once the baby came along. Baby? Oh, yes. The Mrs. is already expecting a little bundle of joy before the gloss on their new hardwood floors has even dried. There’s no turning back now.

I’ve seen that happen and always felt relieved that I wasn’t trapped in a boring, suburban life (no offense to those of you actually living it, bear with me here). I can walk out my door and be at the heart of the shopping district within minutes. I can sleep for 11 uninterrupted hours (which I did just this past weekend; heavenly). I can go for a run after work, before work, and whenever I feel like on weekends. I can cook a nice gourmet dinner for two if I feel like it, or eat a bag of cheese puffs on the couch and have Jeff fend for himself (he doesn’t mind).

But I’ll admit it's getting kind of old. Living in an apartment the size of a shoebox? No backyard for the dogs to play in? Zero storage space? A teeny closet that barely fits 1/10 of my shoes? Paying an absolutely outrageous amount of money for rent just to live in a decent, relatively safe area? Cramming guests on couches and in our minuscule “office room” (more like a closet)? Paying city prices for everything, from produce to clothing, since there are no Outlet malls to be found? Having to rely on public transportation, which is inherently, completely unreliable?

Yeah, it’s definitely getting old. Now what?