The funny thing about being in towns I once called home is how I always find myself longing for the convenience of my old apartment. Then the questions: Who’s living in my house? Does the place still have mice? Did they finally refinish the inside? I find myself reevaluating the decisions I’ve made since I left, and the direction I’ve taken. I’m admittedly somewhat lost and constantly striving to figure out my approach to life. Perhaps I do belong in Philly, and maybe I’ll wander back that way one day. Who knows? Places can feel so right in windows of experience and memory tends to glorify the glitches that drove me away.

Once Kate and I finally got out that Thursday morning, I was excited to walkabout in my old city. We headed up 3rd Street and I resisted my habitual urge to turn onto South, waiting for the gentle disposition of Lombard to turn left before falling into my old ways. You see, I developed my routine long ago when I walked home daily from a legal secretary position I tolerated for a solid chunk of my city-dwelling year. The 15-block routine was my strongest resemblance to an anonymous urbanite, and my favorite part of the day (especially in autumn). I guess I walked the walk, but when it all boiled down I always felt like a fraud. In retrospect the city is no place for a lost soul, and it swallowed me up.

I slipped into autopilot as we strolled over and up towards Pine Street for antique window-shopping and over onto Walnut’s shopping district. H&M has not yet arrived in Texas, a cruel joke by all accounts. We embraced the opportunity to frugally shop, stretch our legs and run our mouths. I was pretty happy with my finds, and the warming weather. After suggesting we grab lunch from a street vender, Kate’s eyes lit up at the idea of sushi, and I of course obliged.

When Kate and I get together my tendencies to conduct myself as if I am on permanent vacation become tenfold. We basically encourage the most impractical behavior in one another. We slipped our shoes off and slid into a Japanese booth. It was nice to cool off in a dimly lit, peaceful atmosphere. We ordered our lunches and a cocktail and dug up the dirt as we analyzed our exes, caught up on our lives, and planned for the night’s festivities.

Once we walked on the outskirts of Rittenhouse Square, made a pit stop at Love Park for a photo op, and walked through Old City, I felt satisfied about my reunion with my old city. We made our way back to Joe and Johanna’s place and I popped The Last Waltz into their DVD player as we reorganized our stuff and cleaned up. Our casual pace set us up for a grueling drive back to NP. Having no choice, we pushed on through as visions of 80’s night danced in our heads.