Another chapter: City Life in Minneapolis

Having never truly lived in a city I'm not sure how city life is supposed to feel. Or sound. Or taste. It's loud, that's for sure, but there' s a sort of serenity to the white noise that comes with buses whizzing by, sirens in the background, children with backpacks laughing and yelling on their way home. And crickets. Yes, in Minneapolis, above the gentle roar of the waxing and waning of the city you can still hear the peaceful sound of crickets coming alive as the sun sets over the lake and the fluorescent-lit skyline.

Certainly it's been an adjustment moving to the city. I spent over a month living on a couch, driving hundreds of miles looking for jobs, trying to find belongings lost in so many moves. A curling iron here, a frying pan there. It felt like a dream with countless resumes sent out, trips to the grocery store, anticipating interviews, being told "sorry, but no," and the sound of a cracked beer in a quiet kitchen at the end of the night. And then, just as life always happens, I was offered a job and asked to start the next day. (Back to the wonderful world of serving rich people in a restaurant...more about that on a later day.) I had only the clothes in my car, Dave was still four hours away, and we had no home. The next couple of weeks were a test to our relationship. The miles racked up on our vehicles, we spent a lot of money, argued over the phone, and wondered whether or not to believe the mantra "everything always works out."

But here we are, finally settling into a drastic new chapter of our life. Dave finally found a job that he's content with, one that gives him enough time to play music and pursue dreams he has had since he was old enough to hold a guitar. And after weeks of looking for a place to live we met a girl who said she was leaving her apartment in six days and we could take it. We now live in a tiny (and when I say tiny, I mean it,) apartment in Uptown on a tree-lined street one block from the hullabaloo of the hipsters, the homeless, and the hurried happenings of Hennepin Avenue.

I actually love it.

Sure I miss the mountains, the peacefulness of watching people fly-fish on the river, and the wonderful Montana air. But here I still walk to the grocery store, ride my bike for miles around the city, and am able to find a quiet spot to read my book. I used to wonder, with amazement, how some people never ventured out of their comfortable circle in life. How can they not explore the world? How can they not care? I used to think. But now I look at the culture here, the diversity, the abundance of - for lack of a better word - life, here, and I am singing a different tune. I never had it all figured out, none of us do. There is so much to explore where you are, so many stories to hear. Don't believe me? Spend the afternoon in Minneapolis's Department of Motor Vehicle center. Talk about a trip!

So overall everything's great. We have enough to eat, jobs to get us through, and time to ride bike and have a beer with friends. No, it's not what I planned or even imagined life would be like right now, but when is it ever that way? If you bear with me I will try to document the wild life of Minneapolis and my professional demotion back to a restaurant server for women with diamonds and men wearing loafers with no socks. But like I said, that's a story for a different day.