On the street where I live

I live on the prettiest street in my city. Not that I'm biased or anything. But it's wide and gracious, lined with huge eucalyptus trees and flanked on either side by twisty sidewalks and Victorian inpsired row houses in bright colors. We're right downtown, just four blocks from the beach. On a clear day, if you stand on our back balcony and lean as far forward as you can without tipping into the parking lot, you can see the ocean.

Every Tuesday night, if you cross one block over, you run right into the weekly market night, full of produce booths, street performers, and all your neighbors. On any given day, I walk three blocks to my gym. The post office is on that corner. So is my dentist. If I round that corner, there are all kinds of little shops and cafes, restaurants and bars, and a chocolate store. Two blocks the other way leads you to a big park with lots of green space and a playground.

Best of all, literally around the corner from my house is the library. It's a 90 second walk. And right across the street from it? There's a Thai restaurant with fantastic drunken noodles and even better mangoes and sticky rice.

I love where we live. It's small but it's ours, and it's in the coolest part of town. I love that not much planning went into downtown back in the day and now multi-million dollar homes sit right next to beach shacks. I'll be sad when we buy a bigger place next year and we have to leave.

In the mean time, every day when I walk back from the gym, the brand new Italian place on the corner by my house smells of garlic and onions. Two such happy smells. But...my honey doesn't care for Italian and I want to eat there.

Anyone want to come visit?