Urbanite

I’ve been pining for Chicago lately. The sights, sounds, and (strangely, yes, even the) smells! I lived in Chicago for four years, and I can still identify parts of the city with my eyes closed – just by the smell. The El has this gritty, dirty unwashed-human smell. The Mile tastes like Garrett’s buttery popcorn, and the Loop scents like flowers and reeks of luxury cars. Mmmm…mmmm. I love that city!

I came to Chicago the day after I turned 18 and never intended to leave. I was there for college, and I saw my life in front of me. I would graduate and live in an apartment in the city. There I would toil as a journalist by day and activist by night. I’d cover important social topics and attend gallery openings. I’d memorize every part of the city until I became so familiar with it; I could walk it blindfolded (although I never actually planned to do THAT – I’m not naive).

For four years, I walked the city streets and marveled at my fortune. I was born to be a city girl. I was surrounded by people who longed for their country homes and escaped back home as often as possible. I, however, relished the chance to walk the streets (not THAT way) and take in Chicago with true appreciation.

My job as a Communications Intern at the Chicagoland Chamber of Congress was a perfect fit. I’d hike the twelve blocks back and forth to my job, sometimes even twice in one day, and love it. I’d take cabs on snowy days and shop on Michigan Avenue with the hordes.

I think part of the reason I love the city is because you can be totally alone in a sea of people. You can have perfect anonymity, which you can decide to break if someone piques your interest. It’s very easy to be social or isolated, depending on your mood, in a big city.

My dreams of staying in Chicago had to be abandoned – for a couple of reasons. The first being my father’s unexpected death had left my mother all alone. She encouraged me to finish school with the understanding that I’d come “home” when I graduated. The other was my fiancé who loves the peace and solitude of the country just like I relish the hustle and bustle of the city. Circumstances made me leave the city. And every so often, I regret the choice.

I turned down an offer to be a producer at the top AM radio station in Chicago, and even had to reject the C of C’s offer to stay on and move up in their communications department. Now, that was hard.

I liked being a city girl. I liked being surrounded by people, losing myself in the crowd. Eating at the best restaurants in the world – at 2:00 a.m. Knowing what fashions were storming through the streets – shopping on the Mile. The theater, the shows, and the ease of transportation. It’s hard to reconcile yourself to “the Walmart,” when you long for Neiman Marcus.

I loved the elevators at the John Hancock building, the fireworks over Navy Pier, and the carriage rides that clip-clop around the Water Tower. I miss the street performers, the creative beggars, and the business people who seem to glide down the streets.

So, I sit here – trapped in Suburbia – the one place I never wanted to be, trying to make the best of it. I DO love being near my family, but if I could magically transport them all to Chicago, I would.

I think what I miss most is the freedom to just take off - to decide where and when I wanted to go and just fly free. Maybe it’s not the city, after all. Maybe it’s the freedom and my youth that I miss. Just maybe.

But, either way, I still grieve for my loss of Neiman Marcus!