yesterday, as i sat down for a sandwich at the ravenwood cafe, i had a bit of a loveburst for my little city. the ravenwood is new transplant in staunton, and the best way i can describe it is what i imagine edgar allan poe’s kitchen would be like – a little dark, but very southern, yet progressive, as well.

anyway. i have such acute aches for new york sometimes that they are practically physical. but now that i have been in staunton for a year and a half, it’s found its own place in my heart, and i love that.

i have “my” things in this town now – my routines and places and things. i’ve realized this sense of belonging is crucial to my comfort in, or with, a place. when i poke around at celebration!, the owner asks me how my crazy german relatives are doing. when we greet the door guy at clocktower, we talk about what’s going on with big boots. i order my usual at blue mountain without glancing at the menu. i have my nice little artsy movie theaters, my crunchy veggie-friendly grocery, my favorite route to walk at the park.

i might not wear a staunton, VA shirt with the feel i’d have advertising my brooklyn pride across my chest, but at least the idea of wearing that t-shirt doesn’t seem quite as foreign as it once did.

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