getting to know you, getting to know all about you

One of the best things, but also the most overwhelming thing, about the move to a new, large city is that there's so much to do. I've bought both new copies of Time Out since we've been here, and read a few guidebooks and whatnot (because that's the kind of nerd I am) but basically haven't done anything of real interest. It turns out getting to know a city just takes time. I try to remind myself that the first time I moved away from home, to a mid-size city, it took me nearly a year to really figure the city out. To get a favorite burger place. To know the best Thursday night happy hour. To know how long it ought to take you to get from point A to point B. To have a place to take parents in town. To have a place to take broke, arty friends in town. To understand where the hell the freeway loop crosses the freeway. And that city was about 1/5 the size of Chicago. Sigh.

Part of why I think it's taking me longer this time around is because a lot of what there is to do here is actually....go to this place and eat. Go to this other place and drink. And while, lord knows, those are two of my most favorite activities, they're also bad for my health and my wallet. We have thus far been really good about cooking delicious and more or less healthy meals at home, and so I haven't been out to a ton of good places yet. Maybe when I'm working and thus have the cashflow to go out and no time to cook?


I actually cooked this. I did not take this photo, though. (Though mine did look about as good.) Photo and recipe courtesy Pioneer Woman.

Another part of why it's taking me longer than it feels like it ought to is because it's cold. I mean, like I said before, it's not yet inhumanly cold-cold. Still, 30 degrees makes it unpleasant to just stroll around the neighborhood for a few hours, which I was able to do when I lived here for 3 months two summers ago. Somehow it feels like I knew the city a lot better then...where did all that knowledge go?

Ugh, in the middle of writing this, I got another call from an Unknown number, which I (who knows why) answered. I am 90% convinced whomever had this number before me was a drug dealer, and 100%convinced that, even if he wasn't, he was into some kind of shady business. I will be sooo glad when people finally get the message that BUDDY NO LONGER HAS THIS NUMBER. (Seriously, Buddy?? Does it get more stereotypical than that?)