To the big city

I'm often asked "How do you like Philly?"

I always say (somewhat snarkily, somewhat faux-mysteriously), "I have a complicated relationship with this city." And it's true. I don't really like Philadelphia, yet something about it jives. This is an odd town, and rarely do I think of it as a "city" despite all evidence to the contrary. Most of the time, it seems like a lotta rowhomes, too many cars, and a high mortality rate. I often think that Philadelphia is New York's redheaded step-sibling who everyone thinks has some sort of cognitive impairment, but we're all just too polite to come right out and say it.

I hate where I live (kiddies: never sign a lease without having a savvy city-native to help you), but it's cheap, I've only been chased once, and I'm moving at the beginning of the summer. I'm actually looking forward to living above an Indian restaurant (after all, who doesn't like the smell of curry in the morning?) and I want all the chaos that makes a city a living thing.

This post brought to you by: my impending visit to New York for the afternoon. And the letter "P."