Some days it’s really hard to grasp that it’s been two years since we relocated. Some days it feels like forever… others, I have fresh nightmare-like relapses of the anxiety of movers and boxes and finding an apartment and getting lost amidst the glass structures of the PPG campus. But as time passes, I feel more-and-more out of touch with Cleveland: the city and its development and new restaurant openings… and, sadly, its friendships. While we still have no firm commitment of how long we’ll be staying in Pittsburgh (and, no, we will not be going back to Cleveland), the purchase of a house this past year makes the decision to be here a bit more permanent than temporary (who can even believe that it’s already coming up on a year since we bought the damn thing!).
For now, remaining in Pittsburgh remains a part of our short-term plan.
First things first, my first year review of being a ‘Burgher. Many of these aspects, I can still relate. I really love it here; I don’t think I’ll ever wrap my head around how other transplants have “issues” with things like: finding stuff to do (or finding things, in general) or “fitting in.”
After two years:
I almost know my way around. Even if I still get turned around in the east end and the south hills. And missed the memo on the West End Bridge being closed after Steelers games. But I finally know of at least one or two neighborhoods in the West End. And what the West End Circle is.
I can finally spell Monongahela without looking. Shit… maybe not. I’ll work on that. I learned the bus and T system. I can usually find my way home without checking Google Maps.
I’ve deepened my friendships and made new ones. I’ve lost friends. I’ve blocked people-who-probably-should-never-be-my-friends. I have friends to text when I want a margarita. And a favorite place for margaritas. I have friends to call to gossip over brunch. And a favorite Thai place. And a favorite place for cupcakes. I know at least three local skating rinks and their times for open skates. I have connections when I need help with events, marketing, charity, social media, writing, job search or suggestions for the best damn place in tahn. I started working part time with a wonderful local non-profit. I became a chairperson in a local professional organization. I took the role of Head of Marketing in another. I volunteer. I flyer. I adopted another cat…
I have a favorite date place with AB. We also have a favorite happy hour. I have a favorite view. I have a quiet, tranquil space just steps outside a bustling downtown. I volunteer. I work sometimes from coffee shops. I have a museum membership, season tickets, favorite annual events and fundraiser parties — and places to shop for just the perfect outfit. We have a local farmers market — we even grow our own produce in a community garden plot within our neighborhood! I finally have a dentist, aesthetician, hairdresser and doctor that I trust, respect and recommend. We recognize our local news people. We know the names of local “celebrities” and can finally be “in” on the local jokes. We can even commiserate over “that other team” with fellow transplants (heh).
Yet, I proudly wear my Black and Gold.
I’ve developed a deep connection with my new city. Well, I suppose it’s not so “new” anymore. I want to shout about it, promote it, be involved… shoot people down when they dismiss how awesome it is here (or at least shoot them a dirty look). I continue to be absolutely in LOVE with Pittsburgh. I love it even more now that we’re part of a close-knit neighborhood with stoop-party-friendly neighbors.
Does two years in officially make me a Pittsburgher? Eh, maybe?
But belonging here isn’t something I need to prove anymore.
Some pictures to break up all these wordy, non-pretty posts below.
How do normal people move to a new state having regular jobs? I’m exceptionally lucky that I can make my own hours around all the mundane crap I need to do while AB is, well, already living in Pittsburgh because all-holy-hell would break loose worse than it is, as I would have no time to do any of this shit otherwise. Let alone stress out about aforementioned shit.
I haven’t had to take any Xanax yet. So, there’s that. But it doesn’t mean that I have handled this transition in the most non-bitchiest manner possible. Just ask the boyfriend.
Our movers are finally scheduled (on now the right date… don’t even get me started on that process), our going away party under contract (lame as I find this), hotel (with cat) booked, addresses changed (aside from the USPS mail forwarding, given that they cannot yet verify the billing addresses of EITHER of zip codes and corresponding debit/credit cards… awesome) and my condo is completely packed and ready for transport.
Meanwhile, our apartment hangs its head in shame as it is still WAY too livable for two people who are moving to Pittsburgh in eleven days (and merely a week away from actual keys) and gosh-darn-it, the boxes want to be PACKED AND MOVED already. At least those boxes exist — many of them still folded against the wall, the others a makeshift kitty condo — and stand ready for destruction by Rudy and his massacre claws at 4 am. Every. Single. Morning.
But I am certainly enjoying my final weeks in the Cleve, including a handful of work projects to complete before I take an entire week off from business responsibilities (I mean, my server and internet will be down for at minimum 3 days, so… seems like a good call). Dinners with family and friends. Day drinking. Taco Tuesdays. Roller derby bruising (and training camp this weekend). Networking online with new ‘Burgher peeps and organizations (and soon-to-be IRL). Hide n’ Seek with the cat (man, I hope he likes the view from Pennsylvania windows).
Have I detailed my excitement about STAIRS(!) in my new place? And I mean, IN the actual apartment, not the ten or so floors to climb in the short chance both elevators suck ass simultaneously (thankfully, I’ve already got a bartender tip to use the one on the left as the other is shaky). And I may share residence with a couple local celebs.
That in itself might be enough to propel me into as much excitement as those boxes to get the hell out of here already.
It’s no secret that I’m moving to Pittsburgh. I’ve already visited a couple times this past year (dammit, missed out on the suite with the telescope though!) with AB, so I’m not completely ignorant of the area and its attractions. I mean, I already know that you all LOVE some fireworks. But I am a loser in that I want to fit in as much as I can as soon as possible without anyone guessing that I’m from that rival city in which you despise and on which you spit.
What I need from the y’inzers (is that even polite to say, being that I’m not officially a 15222 yet?):
1. Nicknames or acronyms of ‘hoods, buildings, professional teams, general areas. Like, I get the whole ‘Mon-iker *snort*, so stuff like that. What? You don’t get the joke? OMG, this is going to take a while…
2. Where NOT to bother with/go. I’m a food and beer snob, so I’ve definitely kept my eye out for new and interesting restaurants, local chefs with flair, the BEST PANCAKES IN THE UNIVERSE (ahem, Pamela’s) and unique locales. Also, I do my groceries at markets, local-owned family shops — discuss and recommend freely from whom you buy your sausage and the like. I don’t want to hear you start fighting over cupcakes. Unless they are filled with bourbon.
3. Outdoor organizations, bike club/shops, running clubs, derby girls… anything of interest in the athletic lifestyle column. Of extreme interest: a fitness center (not a big box pick-up shop) that has TRX or group insanity-like classes.
4. Which bloggers to follow? I already stalk Pitt Girl of That’s Church, so besides her. Please no early 20-something drinking bloggers with a penchant for partying on Tuesdays. I am 33 for chrissakes.
5. Interesting, entertaining, news-worthy publications. I’m a writer — and a snarky one at that. Give me something that will keep my attention, or to which I could potentially submit articles. Also, local-owned bookstores (new or used)? How’s your library system?
6. OMG HOCKEY!!! So excited. I’ll trade lame-ass basketball and its egos for some high-intensity skate action (I’m a roller derby chick, what would you expect?).
7. Choose your own adventure. Seriously. Tell me something about your Pittsburgh: the life, the people, the government, the non-profit organizations, where I can get the best grilled cheese, which bridge to jump from when one is contemplating suicide. Your turn.
8. Is just my favorite number, so I couldn’t end on 7.
Reading, writing, arithmetic and booze. I think we covered all that. I cannot promise I will return to Cleveland with a freaky accent, but perhaps have some new colloquialisms in my arsenal.
As for burgers in the ‘Burgh, I already know that Tessaro’s is the bee’s knees. And OMG, I have creamy dreams about that potato salad.
My mood swings are out of control. One minute I am on top of the world in happiness, then I snap with any minute form of stress with frustration. The next, I am a weepy mess. I am so freaking sensitive. I’m naggingly asking my boyfriend is he’s “OK,” when in reality, it’s ME that is NOT OK.
And this time, I cannot blame it on my birth control.
I think I am in the midst of a grieving process.
Denial and Isolation. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
Psychology classes come in handy.
But can you feel those all at once?
And the intensity of these emotions (stages) brings about a LOT of stress. So much so, that you almost cannot grasp at anything seemingly normal; hence, the frustration.
I’m totally excited to move, don’t get me wrong, but I’m feeling tiny pangs of sadness for what I am leaving behind. The truth is, we likely won’t be back in Cleveland (at least on a full-time residential status) any time soon. There are no children in our future, so we won’t return to have our kids here. And frankly, the job market — outside of manufacturing, so the news tells me — is pure shit, so that certainly won’t bring us back either. My family is so dispersed now, that I think even my dad should fulfill his ever-growing want to move to South Carolina. You know, he HATES the snow. I’ll eventually have to transfer to a new roller derby team (and in its growing awesomeness, there are leagues in most cities across the country now).
These are the reasons Clevelanders move away and typically return home.
I moved away once to Phoenix. I came back. Mostly because I longed for the boyfriend that I left behind. Secondly, because I didn’t like living in Phoenix all that much, aside from being close to my sister, of course.
But this time, I’m moving WITH my boyfriend (and subsequently driving him crazy with my “communication problems”). And Pittsburgh is kind of awesome.
And I want a kayak.
Anyway, I’m here for one more month in all my sappy, sobbing glory. Let’s at least plan a final Taco Tour.
Yes, yes, I missed last week’s requisite hand job, but in the wealthy words of said penis, “You can just suck it!”
I have been in-and-out (heh TWSS) of Pittsburgh a few times in the last three months, on an endless search for its local Penis Tuesday. You know, that whole PT World Tour thing. I jacked high; I sucked low for anything — SOMETHING that resembled man parts. I would have been satisfied with even a bit of historical humor. Well, yesterday while exploring the Andy Warhol Museum… I found it.
Warhol holds as much a Burgher importance as Carnegie (the two Andys!), and within the dedicated walls of the former — a seriously fantastic and sense-orgasmic gallery — you will find a print of the male penis and testes (no photos allowed; sorry pervs).
Turn the hall and there’s a black-and-white film called “Blow Job” playing on endless loop.
In another galley, was “piss art” (an oxidation print he created by having people urinate onto a painted canvas, prepared with copper oxide). It took four penises to make this refreshing gesture to Pollock.
If you are familiar with his work, he created a few prints labeled, “Torso” (single penis or double, upon preference). While not displayed in Pittsburgh, see “Torso (Double)” replication here. There was also a book about “things that resemble penises” in the gallery bookstore (not from Warhol). Be still, my schlong-lovin’ heart.
And for a just the tip bonus, upon some further research, someone once left a plastic penis on his gravestone in Bethel Park. See? Even in the afterlife, there is reason for penis. Thanks, Andy.
For this Pittsburgh visitor, it was an abundance of penis for one afternoon.
What did you do this weekend? I bet you didn’t break any Guiness World Records with 1,800 people in Pittsburgh!
As of event date, 1,800 kayaks and canoes were confirmed at registration. We needed 1,100 (I think) to break the world record for the largest flotilla. All of this coordinated with World Environment Day, with Pittsburgh as a host city. This was definitely an event worthy of the Bucket List. Even if after the fact.
It was SO awesome. Even the torrential downpour(s) while we were on the river.
Oh, this is so awesome to sit through. Check out the MASSIVE rainstorm that hit just after we broke the record.
Ladies (or Gentleman… it’s OK, you can admit to the following):
You know the old quip that men can never ask for directions, hence the reason for the woman being lost in the first place and ensuing frustrations and arguments commence? Yeah, that.
Yesterday, I was fucking worthless. I got lost in downtown Pittsburgh. I can find my way out of deserted gas station fill-up exits in the panhandle of Texas, back roads and roundabouts in Frankfort, Germany and usually a paper bag, yet yesterday, I was internally misguided among towers that ALL LOOKED EXACTLY ALIKE frantically attempting to locate my hotel. Imagine, if you will, being inside a corn or garden maze that seemingly has no exit. And it’s raining. And your cell phone is about to die.
You with me? Whew. I know certain parts of Pittsburgh (downtown) well, but I get backward for some reason once I’m near Market Square (and the harrowing PPG buildings) or anywhere near the North Shore (save for the beauty of PNC Park). Seriously, which way is fucking North?
I called boyfriend (twice because he didn’t pick up at work the first time) frantic and frustrated and practically in sobbing tears after walking around for 20 minutes and somehow warping to the exact same Primanti’s location I already found two hours prior for lunch. Meanwhile, I’m completely in the wrong direction all because there are, like, 14 CVS pharmacies within two city blocks guiding my voyage.
It’s OK, you can make fun. Seriously though, is there anything more frustrating?
Thanks to AB for (I think) saving the day. An hour run in the amazing hotel gym alleviated all pointless stressors before he got home from work.
I’m working remotely this week, again from (the uber-rainy and gloomy) Pittsburgh. Have I mentioned the awesomeness of being able to work from wherever I please? I won’t get in a lot of city exploration this week with the anticipated weather forecast and my current workload. But I’ll be able to try a couple new restaurants and AB will be taking Wednesday off with me to hang.
That said, we’re staying in a different hotel than my prior visit. Innkeepers, please tell me what it is about the lighting in these rooms? It’s either super dark in the bedroom portion without enough natural light to apply outdoor make-up (or seriously, how many hotels “forget” to install floor-length mirrors!!!) or the bathroom vanities are drenched in a god-awful yellowing UV fluorescence. I’m already Hungarian, mm-kay. Let’s not emphasis my undertones.
That said, this new hotel — The Fairmont — is so far, so fantastic and exceptionally modern. I can actually work from the room and be motivated to you know, actually work, rather than trying to break out and explore. *sigh* I suppose this crappy weather helps.
I’ll give you another review later of the “health club” because you know I need to work off the Primanti’s sandwich I already had for breakfast.
Continuing on my eating adventures of Pittsburgh, I walked (again, the 20 blocks or so) for pancakes at Pamelas in The Strip. This is the cute old-style greasy spoon diner that Obama loved on his visit to The ‘Burgh. What’s good for Mr. President is good for me, right? Unfortunately for my waistline that morning, I also had a craving for eggs. So, I had eggs AND the delicious blueberry crepe-style pancakes for breakfast. And bacon. Sweet Jesus, this was a lot of delicious food — served quick, eaten more so. Piggy love.
After only a few hours, it was time to meet AB for lunch. It was a gorgeous day in Pittsburgh — the sun brought everyone outside to enjoy a bit of sunshine. I selected Las Velas in the Market Square to (potentially) stalk PittGirl of That’s Church — a blog I have been reading almost as long as I have been writing (her husband owns the place), but missed out on her morning appearance. Next time, Jane Pitt.
Regardless, only a few hours after scarfing down all that breakfast, I was able to devour two enchiladas. Service of lunch took longer than expected (with my millionty of visits to Mexican restaurants), but I imagine it was because of my ordering enchiladas for lunch without a margarita to pass the time. I really enjoyed what appeared to be homemade baked chips with an mild, pleasant salsa. I went with my usual red sauce on the enchiladas, but it was also slightly drizzled in some hot peppery green sauce. The small detail gave just the perfect amount of heat to my two cheesy favorites. I was also impressed with the side of BLACK beans with the order (and not the typical refried).
A food coma ensued… tick. tick. tick.
For our anniversary, we cleaned up a bit and went a little more “fancy” for dinner. We cabbed into North Oakland to Toast! (kitchen and wine bar). Don’t let their horrible Web site confuse you — this place was so cute, and was voted as one of Pittsburgh’s Best in 2009 in several categories (Best Upcoming Chef, Top 25 Restaurants and perhaps Most Romantic or something or other). We shared a couple apps: the mac & cheese and the foie gras. Both were served with an unexpected twist — the mac with a fried egg on top and the foie gras was almost blackened/grilled. Both options were so, so delicious. The mac appetizer truly gives Michael Symon’s comfort food a run for his money (you know how I love any food item with the addition of a fried egg!) Wow. The foie gras was excellent – especially to eat prepared in a wholly different manner. It was also served with beans. Delicious.
I had a salad, while AB enjoyed his Onion Bisque (which had crab in it, so I couldn’t taste). The salad was prepared to my liking, included cranberries and walnuts with mixed greens, but if you do not like a TON of dressing on your greens, I would recommend not ordering this (or even asking for less dressing if at all possible). Again, my preference is salads sopped in bleu cheese. Oh, it was good.
Our entrees one-upped our first two courses. The menu had many great options in every different fish and meat category — I selected the suckling pig and AB enjoyed the Mahi Mahi. It was served similar to a gelatinous cube of pork belly, over steamed carrots and more beans (this time, white). The pig also had a layer of crispy skin to it that totally enhanced the taste. I was definitely too full to finish my plate, and there was not even the tiniest bit of room for a dessert.
We finished up with a few craft brews at Sharp Edge, who lay claim to “Best Belgian Beer Bar in the US.” I’ll let Bier Markt know. In all seriousness, this location (there are four) had every beer I could think of that was Belgian exported. Great draft specials for a Thursday night (and thankfully, no drunk Irish to ruin our night out).
Our third day was short, since I had to get back somewhat early to Cleveland. AB took the day off work with me, and after a small breakfast in the hotel, we went walking (again) to The Strip. Man, so crappy that my good shoes tore because I ended up having to wear thin shoes and killed my legs and hips. Eh. But I digress.
I brought him to Mon Amie for a little “thank you” gift for the girl in our apartment building who looked after our Rudy while we were away (and a Bacon Bar that I cannot eat because of the potential “shellfish” warning on the label WTF?!).
For lunch we went into what I think is the Shadyside or Friendship neighborhood for burgers at Tessaro’s. The amazing (and huge) Deli Burger has Swiss cheese, cole slaw, pickles, and, I think, thousand island dressing on rye bread. We both ordered the same thing. Of course, I could eat maybe half of the delicious blend of ground meat, especially after devouring the entire side of potato salad. It had that wonderful addition of (too much for most people) vinegar that I just drool over. Like Grandma’s.
And any visit to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, would not be complete without a trip to the giant beer store. As luck would have it, there was one case of Great Lakes Christmas Ale on the shelves. Just as we ran out of our last case. Score. Next time, we pack lighter to bring another case or two home.
A huge “thank you” goes to Chris from Yinz Hungry and Jay (referred by our new friend, Kyle) for their restaurant (and more) recommendations. Holy crap, it’s a good thing I did a lot a walking because I did a LOT of eating. The hotel was in the perfect location downtown, enabling me to get out in the mornings to walk around and explore. I was up early because AB had to work. At least I could get him out on a couple school nights.
As I initially assumed, Pittsburgh food is based in comfort. But vacation is a perfect time to load up on pancakes and hotdogs, so NO PROBLEM THERE. There are definitely notable restaurants and a handful of creative chefs that do exist — if you get said suggestions or are feeling a little adventurous. I mean, Le Cordon Bleu is there — I imagine some students desire to stay and help Pitt become a foodie town to match the city’s vibrancy? Right?
I walked to The Strip neighborhood EVERY DAY from downtown – it was about 20 blocks, but incredibly quick. Day one, I visited the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company (“Penn Mac”), and fell for another cheese guy. It’s nowhere near as glamourous as Paris, but I grabbed a hunk of Fourme d’Ambert and some bread and casually nibbled while wandering around. I was on a short mission to find flavored malted milk balls — seen at Daily Grommet. Let me tell you how delicious these things are that Mon Amiee Chocolat creates.
For lunch, I walked back into downtown for a Locavore hotdog (made Texan style) at Franktuary, which is housed in the Oliver side of Trinity Cathedral. This place obviously has nothing on Happy Dog here in Cleveland, but I devoured this thing. I also enjoyed the thin, almost toast-like bun.
Now I have a damn hot dog to walk off, so I head back into The Strip area to visit the Heinz History Center. This museum combines Pittsburgh history, innovation and culture very well. I easily spent three hours there — and could have spent a few more. I got chills within the sports museum. The “tunnel” leading from the displayed “locker room” into the main exhibit was a fun approach. I got overly-geeked upon seeing Busty Brawler’s derby gear on display. Awesome.
Heinz obviously has an extensive history with Pittsburgh, and there is a giant wing devoted to that. There was also a wing dedicated to the innovations of Pittsburgher and a special exhibit all about glass.
I bought chocolate-covered Heinz pickles too. Sadly, gearing up for its Mr. Rogers’ special exhibit beginning this weekend, there was no collection honoring him available for viewing. Note: a wax statue was unveiled this past weekend on “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” Day, on Fred Rogers’ birthday.
After a seriously short disco nap, we had dinner at Yo Rita. This is how ‘burgher Jay described it to me:
This place used to be a shitty tex-mex bar before the owner brought Kevin (Sousa) in to revamp the menu. Now it’s a hip modern taqueria serving all type of crazy shit in local tortillas (from Reyna’s in the Strip District). Pork shoulder, duck confit, chorizo, you name it. Every week, there’s a special taco that’s usually made of something more adventurous: cock’s combs, kidney, bone marrow, testicles. Kevin’s the closest thing Pittsburgh has to a known chef, analogous to Cleveland’s Jonathon Sawyer.
I mean, makes you want to eat twelve tacos, right?! We shared four: duck confit (with mushrooms, bacon, Brussels and mustard crema), Bahn Mi (just like the sandwich), pork shoulder (mole poblano, jalapeno and granny smith apples) and the weekly special taco: sweetbreads (which were so smooth and dough-like and delicious). Everything was absolutely incredible Bravo, Jay… AND Chef Sousa.
After dinner, we trampled through the South Side, stopping at various bars with awesome things on tap: The Library (where I found a new craft beer — Moylans’s Hopsickle) & Smokin’ Joes Saloon (with over 60 beers on tap, I opted for a Sly Fox Odyssey from a PA brewery) were two of my favorites bar stops.
Hofbrau Haus was a total random find, after walking a few blocks to find something new. While the beer is very meh, Santa Claus singing karaoke classics (including Green Day in polka-style) was an entertaining treat.
Two more days of eating my way through Pittsburgh to go!
I haven’t been to Pittsburgh in a few years. And when I did visit my sister (who lived there for a little over 10 years), we stayed mostly in the North Hills area where she lived, save for a baseball game or two at PNC Park. I never really explored “dahntahn.”
After my three days, I realized I need more than that — I nearly exhausted myself on just the first day. Before I get into the “What Mel Did” aspect of my visit, first I have a few comments on Pittsburgh:
Downtown is BUSY! There is so much going on in downtown. There is traffic, there is an expected city noise and there are a lot of buses. More so, there are people. People are EVERYWHERE — walking, waiting for buses, hustling to work, hanging around the public spaces (ahem, jaywalking… but that’s something else entirely). There is a similar combination to Cleveland of old and new buildings — and the old being renewed. There are several areas with construction, but it’s unassuming. And like The Cleve, I am obsessed with the bridges. In Pitt, there are six, one of which they close to cars and such and open to only pedestrians during baseball games at PNC Park. I LOVE THIS.
Old vs. New. By the by, I saw a billboard that read something like, “Pittsburgh: a city based on steel but moving towards science.” Again, not verbatim, but my general thought is that the city has accepted they can NO LONGER be reliant on the dated steel industry, and have moved toward embracing new technology — in this case, “science,” as the focus of its renaissance. Genius. Accept. Move on. Thrive.
Walkability / Bike-ability / Cab-ability. I walked for the majority of my three day visit. (We cabbed to bars/restaurants that were outside the downtown vicinity). There are nice sidewalks leading to all points of the city — wide enough for several pedestrians and unbroken. There are also a LOT of bike commuters (and several parking garages with bike spaces). With cabs, there is still some difficulty similar to Cleveland in hailing one just by standing on a street, unless you’re outside a hotel. But after calling for one, an actual cab shows up within 15-20 minutes. I live in downtown Cleveland, and sometimes after calling a cab, you can wait an HOUR. Worse so, in the suburbs.
And on that note of movement, People here know how to freakin’ drive with an certain level of aggressiveness. It’s beautiful.
The Strip, from what I understand, begins around the 12th block (east of downtown) and continues through 28th. Imagine the West Side Market vendors spread out into separate storefronts. While gritty, it’s incredibly vibrant and friendly. There are street vendors on every corner — and street food.
There is construction/renovation being done on downtown’s Market Square, which is surrounded by multi-level businesses and restaurants. GREAT open space (or what will soon be after construction is completed), with a good mix of chain and independent spaces.
South Side, while seemingly geared to a younger clientele, is a fun place to explore — with quirky clothing shops and bars and restaurants, scattered with a few tattoo places. There are a lot of “kids” walking around. It reminds me of Ohio City’s West 25th Street… if it were inclusive of about 20 more city blocks. Situated at the end of the neighborhood is a lifestyle center reminiscent of Crocker Park (read: chains and chains galore, with many high-end shops as well, and jealously, an REI).
Then, there is the North Side — which you need to cross the bridge to get to. And you can do that no matter if you are on wheels or appendages. Here you will find the stadiums and another selection of bars and restaurants, mostly geared toward the sports crowd, but by my memory seems to be renovated since my last visit a few years ago. The area was very, very clean and… proper, for lack of a better word. Likely very different during tailgating season.
These are areas that seem to blend into one another, that I definitely need to return to explore: Shadyside / North Oakland / Friendship. The Friendship/Shadyside area reminded me of Baltimore or Philly, especially with the tight-knit housing and one-way streets.
Again, it is near impossible to do and see everything in just a couple days, so I look forward to my next visit(s).
I haven’t been interested much in your life. Right. So, why should you care about what I’m writing about? With the little free time I have, I’ve been learning how to sharpen my copywriting skills. How to run my own little business. Learning how to sprint with control using the front of my skates. Filing taxes. Chasing this damn cat away from chewing holes in the brick walls:
Meanwhile, AB & I decided to extend our lease on East 4th for another six months, so we’ll be around through October. Which is kind of cool because Check Me Out – I technically have a corner office. Sweet. It’s all how you look at things, friends.
Regardless of domestic partnership bliss, here are a few gems in my Reader this week:
All huge favorites of The Frisky columns – mostly because of its typical ridiculous fluff. Let’s discuss together Humans & Monogamy (impossible), The Cheater Registry (yikes… or yes! depending on your glass) and my favorite, Blogging About Dating (because we would never dare *snerk*). I mean, it’s a bit redundant because you can just blog about the cheating bastards, right?
There’s also the sultry readings of The Lesbian Experience. Or, you know, you could just come back here for more information. Oh, I just talk about penises. Carry on, then…
To any of my Pittsburgh lovelies, I’m heading to the Steel City for St. Patrick’s Day. While the day after will be booked with some cultural to-dos, I need a friend or two for some Irish Good Times on the holiday itself. Somebody MUST befriend me, so I’m not left to fall off bridges all on my own. And so that I do not blog bad things about our epically-hated neighbor to our East. There are tentative plans to stalk PittGirl from That’s Church. It has nothing to do with Mexican food. At all.