tales from a small town

{Featuring semi-unrelated pictures from our fair city}

I could make my point by telling you a story about how my professor's daughter moved in next door. And how she found the house because she also happens to be great friends with my landlord.

{this was our previous next door neighbor's vehicle of choice, so let's just say we were happy to get a new neighbor}

Or I could tell you that the reason I know she is friends with our landlord is because I ran into our landlord at the grocery store and he told me.

We could discuss the fact that my favorite pasttime, yelling at annoying drivers, is dangerous when there's an 80% chance said annoying driver is a respected elder in your synagogue (trust me -- it's happened to Y).

I could tell you how I ran into my mother in law at Starbucks, have seen my father in law's car on multiple occasions, or watched another one of my professors be incredibly creepy at a bar.

But today's tale from a small town involves Craigslist, where Y decided to sell his bike. He communicated anonymously with the first prospective buyer for a day or so until he realized he knew the guy. Not just kind of knew him... the guy is in Y's class. And in this class of 120, they don't just kind of know each other... they're in the same social circle. As in, prospective buyer won our Snuggie in the Christmas white elephant party. Bet that doesn't happen on San Francisco's Craigslist.

As I began writing this post, I realized that I had written a pretty similar one almost exactly a year ago. I guess every year I get the April Small Town Blues (it's in the DSMIV. Look it up.)