Monday, January 23, 2012


Do you ever feel like your feeling of home is influenced by how well you can find your way around the nearest grocery store? Grocery store layout never seems important until it's all wrong and you can't find anything you want. And somewhere in between the fine cheeses next to the cheap fake butter and the two separate aisles of bread kept apart by the florist, you find yourself longing for the grocery store where you used to live. Where you knew were everything was, it all made sense, and the customer service desk wasn't dismissive of your pleas for another location to buy a parking sticker. Where a family of five wasn't blocking your way to the break and bake cookies and kids who were mad at their parents for buying "all natural" apple sauce weren't hitting you in the shins with a cart and staring at you like it was your fault. None of this would have happened in Ohio.

I resolved my anger by asking Roommate to make eggplant mozzarella sliders and baking those dang break and bake cookies that I had to reach over a four year old to get. They were worth the effort and made me feel better. But I still miss knowing where cool restaurants are, calling up my friends to go to a movie, and knowing the cheapest place to get a beer. I resent the fact that I've never lived in victorian village and that I probably should have applied myself more to the theatre scene instead of looking to get out.

I don't think I've given Chicago enough of a chance. Right now it's cold and damp and I don't have a job which means I haven't gotten the change to do much exploring for the tastiest brunch place or a night club that plays 80s (and more) on Thursday nights. I'm going to keep going to runner's meetings, blogging, hoping for an early spring, and looking for the perfect grocery store where I know where everything is.

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