Saturday, November 26, 2011

i'm a city chick

For once in my life, the city is silent.  It's early-- 8:00.  It's Saturday morning, and no one has anywhere they have to be.  The familiar wail of sirens and rumble of cars has been replaced by just the faintest, whispering breeze, gray clouds, and sleeping people, and the soft clicking of my dryer downstairs.  It's funny.  There is no snow, which is usually when it is silent like this. Even in the morning, at 7:15, when I walk to school, I can hear the ever-present rumblings of cars and sirens.  But not today.  Today, the city is silent.  Shoppers are exhausted, after Black Friday shopping sprees.  Families are sleeping off Thanksgiving day food, still deep in their food comas.  But me?  No.  I'm awake.  Eagerly awaiting my weekend at the cabin, I sit here, in the half-light, below a window, writing.  I'm not sure why no one else is awake-- we are attempting to leave in an hour and forty-five minutes.  I'm waiting for the dryer to finish up with my clothes.  So, I sit here.  Not quite sure what to do with myself.


I'm a city chick.  It's true.  Over the summer, when I spent two weeks in the French countryside with friends, while it was fantastic, and amazing, I liked the times we spent in the city, around people, exploring the city, the most.  I've never moved, so I've never known anything but the city.  The wailing of sirens is a normal sound-- in fact, I have a fire station down the road from my school.  The constant rumble of cars rarely ceases.  I have  at least five grocery stores within walking distance from my house.  I walk to school every day, past two of those grocery stores, and a bank, and several pubs (among other... things...) and another bank, and auto-body car shops.  I live in a residential area-- in a house, with houses surrounding us on all sides.  All my friends live in houses, and all my friends live in the city.  In fact, the only time I've ever been in an apartment, was when I was in France, with our French friends who live there, and we visited their uncle's apartment.  But I also live near a small shopping area, and that busy street that I walk down every day, and another small shopping area, and I love it all.  I'm a city chick.


 I love where I live-- sure, it's gray, and rainy, and wet, and rarely snows in the winter (causing us all great sadness).  And in the summer it will hover in the sixties and seventies.  But you know what?  I love all of that. I love that it's not too hot to go outside.  I love that pitter-patter sound of rain on the windows, or the vent in the kitchen.  I love the special, special feeling you get when it snows, as though it's never happened before, and you have to run out, and treasure it, because it'll all be gone in a few days.  I love where I live.  Sure, it has it's faults.  But you know what?  It's my home.  It always has been.  And I love it for what it is.

The Dandy Lioness

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