I feel like this is the Chicago I signed up for. Chicago in the summer, at the dog park, with my hubby, eating dinner on my balcony surrounded by my plants, listening to the red line train to Howard rumble by, only to be outdone by the red line barreling southbound to 95/Dan Ryan. Yep. I think this is what I had in mind.




My worst fault is, and always has been, looking forward. Sure, we should all keep an eye on the horizon, be as prepared as we can, but that's not what I do. I'm rarely prepared, and always disappointed. For as long as I can remember, I've just been waiting for the next phase of my life. Of course, the most significant phase was moving out, to Chicago, starting school, becoming an adult. I spent high school wishing it would end, "planning" for the next phase of my life. Once I chose Chicago, it was over. I might as well have not even lived in Indy. I wasn't present. It was as if it had nothing to offer, nothing more to give. I was convinced, with an admittedly inflated ego, that I had "done" Indy, I had conquered it, and that it was time to move on. I was seventeen. I was young and naive.
And then I got here. And I had nothing left to think about. My "plan" had materialized. After the initial excitement of living downtown subsided....? What? What's next? I had to know what was next. Suddenly the independence I had so longed for wasn't so exciting. I went from child to adult overnight. I missed the four year intermission of college life. I got a full-time job three days after moving out of my mother's home, had a cat, renter's insurance, worried about health insurance. Things I had taken for granted were random, but jarring. I had never considered where recycling bags came from, how much toasters cost, or what happened when I didn't have enough money to pay for my cell phone. Those things were just always there for me. I wasn't ready to admit I didn't have it all figured out.
I've never been comfortable with "I don't know." How easy it would have been to answer "How long are you going to stay in Chicago?" or "What do you want to do with your life?" with a simple, "I don't know." I always had an answer. And I was always on the move. Molly and I moved in to 780 S. Federal St #506 July 9th, 2005 and were out March 20th, 2006. We had learned the city neighborhoods and realized that we could have an apartment three times as big with our own bedrooms for half the price. We moved to the Northwest side of the city, to the Lincoln Square/Ravenswood area. I changed schools and majors. I lived at 2442 W. Cullom #1 until January of 2007. David and I moved in together, still in Lincoln Square. But not for long. September 28th of 2007 we bought of first home and moved in. It's in the Edgewater 'hood.
I use the term "hood" quite purposefully. The grit of the city, the urban landscape, with all of it's problems and joys, is here. It's the experience directly opposite of my suburban upbringing, and directly parallel to the urban New Jersey I was born in. There's something very "full circle" about it all. And something feels more natural here. The dog beach, MonDog, and the dog park, Puptown, are close. We are five blocks from Lake Michigan. We are about the same distance from Andersonville's Clark Street area. We are a five minute walk or less from bus routes 92, 144, 146, 151, 36, 22, and my personal favorite, 147. We are literally around the corner from the Berwyn red line station, as well as the grocery. There's independent coffee places and two Starbucks. This is my home. For now.
Lately, we've been rehashing the plan of moving back to Indy after I graduate next year. It's tempting when we pay 10.25% in sales tax and realize that if we sold our condo even just for what we bought it for, we could buy a house larger than we need, and plenty of yard for Jake to run, for us to relax, for David to grow his veggies and herbs. But, there's something sort of charming about doing it like this:

As I sat outside tonight, Jake at my feet, the sounds of the alley and the train in my ears, the sight of the Broadway St. cathedral's bell tower in front of me, I tried to take it all in. All of it. The good, the not so good, the bad, the indifferent. I know one day, if we leave, this urban nest of ours that at times make me feel like a damn foreigner only three hours from where I grew up, will be a sweet memory. Maybe I really grew up here. Maybe I'm missing the growing, the lessons, the sweetness of life, by, as per usual, "planning" it all away.