There are certain things that happen when you move across the country, or to a different state, or across town, that make you feel like you are really living in your new habitat. Before these things happen, you’re just camping out in a new location, vacationing in a new city. I’m sure some actions are more or less important, or more or less concrete, for different people but I guess some are fairly standard.
Like… getting a new drivers licence (check). Registering to vote (check). Paying rent and bills (sigh… check).
For me, one sign that I am really, truly, officially residing in SF is this: we are now subscribed to the San Francisco Chronicle newspaper.
Just the Sunday edition, but still. (Mom and I happened upon their tent at the Polk Street Blues Festival, and they had a deal for a year’s worth of Sunday editions for $10–yippee!)
Sam and I didn’t even get the newspaper when we were living in MS, in the same town we’d lived in for over five years together (more like ten years for me). It seemed like too much money for a flawed product, too much paper to recycle, we were too busy to actually read it every day, we could access the information online, our town was small enough to know what was going on without reading it in the paper, we had plenty of excuses, excuses, excuses galore. But now, in this new city, I’m finding that I don’t know everything there is to know (not even close) and there’s something comforting about opening up the Sunday paper, divvying up the sections we want to read, and exploring the city through print.
We might actually be here a while… and for the most part, that makes me happy 🙂