Small town versus big city kind of gal: rolling hills or pretty lights

I live in a town that isn’t too big, or too small, it’s quaint. When I was in college and attended school in Reno, the place was called: “Biggest Little City In the World.” The place seemed like a city with all the lights, casinos, noise, smells, and lots of people everywhere. I could smell disgusting Mc Donalds, then pass a bakery and a coffee shop and smell delicious warm baked goods and roasted coffee beans. I would see everything from blinking lights, to streakers, to homeless people with carts, and weird outfits, or drunkards staggering the walkways. Reno was entertaining, there was never a dull moment, and I loved it especially when it snowed, all around campus, and once you stepped away from the streets, the school itself was tucked back from downtown a bit, so I didn’t feel too overwhelmed. At times, even now, I miss that place. Although I have come to discover I am not a city girl at all, even if Reno isn’t a city really. I always dreamt of living in New York with the tall buildings, eating and strolling around Central Park and shopping at large departments stores bigger than Macy’s, and catching a cab to see a show. I wanted to work for the New York Times, or be manager for a company somewhere over there, but the more I learned, it changed my thinking. Cities are scary, there is all this hustle and bustle, and people everywhere, crowds, dirt, oil, very expensive, and high-class folks scattered. Not that I am sure it wouldn’t be glamorous, but for Moxie, I’d say a small town holds a lot of weight in my heart. I was born in Mountain View then moved to Florida then back to California. The town I stayed in with my parents will remain home even if chicken town (Fair Oaks) is a nice area. Something about the quiet neighborhood, winding lanes, trees, people you know, no stores, loud sounds, or lights, just a cozy home, not super big, but homey and welcoming. I’m a small town kind of gal. I like to get to know my surroundings and sit in a field all day and stare up at the sky, or be inside curled up with a book, or watching a tv show with my family on the couch. I crave quiet time, and conversation one- on one no crowds, confusion, or chaos, but the joys of each other. I often want to live in a cabin somewhere out in the woods, or maybe just find a secluded area and build a place. I enjoy all of the little things a town has: a local fire department close by, coffee shops where they know your name and order, the block parties that occurred while growing up, knowing you are safe and sound, secure from danger. It’s interesting, even through my thoughts, I still wonder about city life, like downtown Sacramento, living there rather than where I am, meet tons of people, so much to do, all the activity, and young life wandering about. I teeter-totter on whether I would thrive in an area so widespread. I feel like I would get lost, and head for the hills to hide… I couldn’t be so sure. Reno was just in the middle, and it was the ideal medium and I didn’t have to pay taxes and gun laws weren’t such a mess. Something about the small town, people say its horrid to live close to your rents, for me it’s not, I make them dinner, and I know they are nearby if I needs support or to get away and spend the night at home to rejuvenate and recharge when I am stressed or feeling low. I think if I was a city girl, it would take some getting used to. I always heard East Coast folks are snooty, and stuck up, but who knows. I have had friends who stayed there awhile then moved back here. “Home” seems to be, as they say, “where the heart is.” I think for now this apartment and my parents house are just enough for this small town gal until maybe a plus one, enters into the picture… could be a  furry buddy or....Mc Steamy?! ;)