A few years ago, I left my medium-sized college town for the big city. I won’t deny that the Polar Vortex played a major part in the decision to move, but it was more of an experiment to find myself. Turns out, you don’t need to sell puka shells on a remote island to learn who you are & what you want out of life. Instead, just throw a dart at map & head out. I traveled with one friend and no job. Miraculously, I made it work. Here are the the things I love and the things I loathe about my new(ish), city life.

The good:

All the delicious things to eat. Any type of cuisine. Any time of day. It’s beautiful.

Unlimited social schedule. Your morning, noon, and night could be spent enjoying different events until the end of time. You’ll honestly never run out of things to do.

There are so many people to meet. Even better, there are so many beautiful people to meet. This makes internet dating a breeze, since 90% of the men have bodies of greek gods. Looking for a platonic date to the Rocky Horror Picture Show singalong? No problem. Need a buddy to hit the beach with? You could rally a double digit crew in minutes. Experiencing off-season Bachelor withdrawals? Join of meetup of women combating the same sad feelings. Hallelujah.

The bad:

All of the delicious things must be enjoyed during hours no one else will want to eat. If you’re trying to grab one of the city’s best cheeseburgers, you might be able to snag a single seat at the bar on Tuesday morning at 10:30. Aside from then, you’re getting take out instead. There are far worse things, though, than enjoying a truffle tat from the comfort of your bed. Errrrr couch.

City life comes at a price. You expect to pay $1400 for 600 square feet. What I didn’t anticipate was $1400 for 600 square feet, no laundry on-site, and an additional $50/month charge for a guaranteed parking spot. Oh, what that? You want to stay in and cook yourself dinner? Good luck finding a head of asparagus for under $4, and better luck finding a basil leaf anywhere inside city limits.

The pace of life is insane. Picture it: 1 million people who are always in a hurry. Not only are they constantly rushing, all 1 million of them are late. If you’re near the front of the line to get off the train, you better be prepared to run down those stairs - or suffer the embarrassment of a human trampling. Lord help you if you’re wearing heels. I actually lost a shoe once trying to push my way through the closing doors. Never saw that flat again. RIP gorgeous suede flat.

The ugly:

The traffic. Oh, lord - the traffic. It’s impossible to live in the suburbs because you’d only make it home in time for the weekends. Instead, we all try to cram into a 4 mile radius of our jobs, resulting in a commute I could complete in less time walking. And, that is at a 20 minute per mile pace. Not only are there an absurd amount of cars of the road, but everyone is slamming into each other. Sweet Lexus, but a little old lady might help you total it at the first sight of rain.

The parking. If by God’s grace you make it to your destination without a collision, you’d better have given yourself a solid extra 20 minutes to find a parking spot. You’ll also probably need an umbrella, a pair of tennis shoes, and a very loud car alarm. A perfect example? My gynecologist doesn’t have a parking lot. Nothing. The only way you car park your car is valet. AT THE GYNECOLOGIST.

Everyone is so freakin’ beautiful. It’s ridiculous. Recently, I was out of at an overly trendy bar. I found myself sandwiched between two groups of real-life models. This is not a joke. I was the shortest, chubbiest person in the room. If you read my last post, you are probably making a safe assumption that I was dressed like a 60-year-old librarian. You’re right.

So, to recount - Overly trendy bar.

Cardigan.

Surrounded by actual models.

Sometimes, it’s hard to love yourself. This is a great example of that.

There’s a big, bad world out there. Go and get it.