I was at a…group setting…recently and ended up talking to two girls I went to high school with and have seen a few times since. One spent time living in New York and the other in LA and they were talking (I was mostly nodding politely) about how much they missed their respective former homes. They felt that no one went out in Chicago, that you always have to call people to make plans, no spontaneity, you can’t walk anywhere, the winters are so cold, blah blah blah.
Now, like any good Chicago girl, I feel quite a bit of contempt for New York and LA (or Indiana for that matter, but that’s another story) anyway, but cry me a river! The Chicago metro area holds about seven *million* people and…a lot…of square miles – you reap what you sow, ladies! Also, it’s *known* for its walkability. Why do you think people are so attached to their neighborhoods? They don’t have to leave!
I guess I could stand to take my own advice on that though. In the reaping what you sow category, I’m mildly sick of my job. Again. Already. Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than the old job, but I’m still getting small pieces of someone else’s work that I could do half-asleep. And I can’t help but think that if I’m going to be bored fifty hours a week, I may as well be making more money. And long term, I don’t want to live for weekends – there just aren’t enough of ‘em!
As tempting as it is to blame that on someone else (college career center sucked, people lied about their own work experiences and made me expect some kind of perfect job in the sky, importance of meeting people at work was underemphasized….the list goes on), I guess I’m the only one with the power to change that.
Always learnin’ ;)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I've been trying to understand this love affair with New York, and I've settled on a metaphor. Imagine the major metropolitan areas of this country are players on a football team. New York is the quarterback; LA is the wide receiver. All the cheerleaders are infatuated with them. But you know who's in between the quarterback and the wide receiver? The middle linebacker. And I've got it bad for that sexy tackler. I love you, Chicago.
I don't understand this contempt for New York. We are not the Yankees. I do understand contempt for people who adopt New York and trumpet it, but that's been bred into me, so I suppose it closes the gap and exemplifies a reason for developing contempt for New York . . . I loved visiting Chicago, and am sure I would love to live there; however, it *is* the only place in which I have been questioned by a police officer as to why I am out past curfew. On the evening of my 22nd birthday. I suppose, now that I've got a couple of more wrinkles, I might feel more welcomed in the Windy City. Maybe you just have to be more mature to appreciate it?
Post a Comment