Sense of Direction

I have no sense of direction. It’s a gift. My friends joke about my ability to get lost on a regular basis, in fact I often get lost in my own damn city... never mind road trips. I need driving directions, specific ones, too, to pretty much any neighborhood I’m not intimately familiar with... worse than that, I don’t care very much if I do get lost... I’ve always managed to make my way to the assigned destination... eventually... so I kind of take the detour of getting lost as a mini-adventure... Yes, my friends laugh at me – when they’re not completely indignant that I’m so late, or worse, made them late.

Chicago is laid out in a pretty straight forward grid, which is another reason I don’t worry so much... if I miss a turn, it’s really easy to find your way when you know which streets run north and south or east and west... and I generally know the neighborhoods I frequent well enough to drive on autopilot... but, being that I’m home with the kids or at kid friendly places, I’ve lost a bit of touch with what there is to do for just adults. Getting together with my girlfriends, unless they have a specific place picked out, I find myself going online to search restaurants or check out reviews for plays or nightclubs.

It makes you feel a little out of touch, having to look this stuff up rather than having haunts you’re familiar with... Pre-parenthood, I could’ve written my own guide to the city – but I would have skipped all the fancy dancy restaraunts with humongous plates and tiny portions... it’s Chicago, the best places heap on the food and don’t skip the calories. My guidebook today would include gymnasiums, arcades, and batting cages, as well as parks and pools... I wonder what it’ll look like when I hit the Grandparent stage... knowing me, I’ll still need directions.