For something completely different, I am participating in Finish the Sentence Friday, because I read Katie Hall’s post, decided I wanted to write about this week’s prompt, and actually had time to do so.
If I could live anywhere I’d live…
Okay, first of all, I’m slightly tweaking the prompt, because anyone who knows anything about me knows I want to live somewhere in France or Italy more than I want a new baby kitten or a big scoop of gelato, so that wouldn’t be a fun topic. It’s predictable. I do NOT want to be predictable.
So, I’m making a slight alteration…
If you could live anywhere in the U.S., where would you live?
Some of you may already know the answer to this one too, but most of you probably don’t. I know you’re all dying to know, so without further ado…
I would live in San Francisco. Or New York. I can’t decide on my hypothetical dream location, so I’m just going to say both, because in dreams? Completely plausible.
With San Francisco, it was love at first sight. One early morning on our way to go camping when I was a wee little girl, dad yelled through the cab of the truck to the covered truck bed where my sister and I nestled in our sleeping bags, “Girls, look! It’s San Francisco.” We poked our sleep-fuzzed heads up. It was beyond beautiful and vibrant, both characteristics missing from my hometown, yet visible here in abundance. Ever since that moment, driving through the city a billion years ago, I knew it was special. I wanted to live there; I already felt a part of it. Especially since I am a bit eccentric.
My love of New York, on the other hand, was more of a slow burn. Before I visited my friend there about five years ago, I was indifferent to the idea of the city. It kind of sounded dirty, crowded, noisy, and prone to icky weather. After my first visit I discovered that yes, while it can be all the above, it transcends all of those negative qualities with its, well, superlativeness. New York is just more of the best of everything. So I loved it, but not enough to want to live there (mostly because I am not friends with snow or any of its close relatives, like sleet or slush). Over the years, though, as I matured and changed, the city grew on me. By the time I went there with Mike last October (see here, here, here and here), I was hooked.
These two bi-coastal cities have a few key elements in common that draw me to them, elements which I consider vital to any place I’d choose to live:
- Amazing food
- Vibrant cultural life
- Amazing food
- A significant interest in the arts
So if these two cities are so ab-fab, you ask, why haven’t I ever lived in either place? Well, these cities both have something else in common, a less appealing feature – I couldn’t afford to live in either of them. Sure, perhaps if I wasn’t all rigged up with old married-lady responsibilities I’d go live as a starving artist under the Golden Gate/Brooklyn Bridge. But I am selfless, and must think of the good of my spouse, who wouldn’t like eating out of a garbage can, even if the food did originate from Pastis or Absinthe.
And that is what makes a marriage work. Not forcing your spouse to eat from a dumpster.