This is one of the things I really love about Chicago and the Midwest in general: the land is enormous, but the sense of community makes big cities seem like overgrown small towns. I’ve been in San Francisco for four years, and do you know how often I run into someone I know here? Maybe once every two weeks. Maybe. But we go back to Chicago, and within the first day, there’s Christopher in Millennium Park, and John and his family at Lula. We go to Detroit for BBQ (at a place owned by a former Annie crush) and who works there but Zach? I miss this sort of coincidence, and Midwestern Nice, a lot.
I also find that when I’m home, I’m a much nicer person. Obviously, a lot of that has to do with not juggling 12 tasks at once while at work, but it’s also a reflection of the people around you. SG and I continued our tradition of renting bicycles far too small for him, and the woman who rented them didn’t even ask for a credit card. And sure, we were mean mugged (I forgot about that phrase!) in Detroit a few times, but we were also greeted warmly there. My point is, it’s easier to be more Betty than Veronica back home.