Left of Center

Driving through University Park to West Philly the other night, I noticed it's new moniker flying from street lamp flags lining Walnut: Left of Center. The joke being that it's west of Center City, but really, the political implication tending to apply as well. It was almost cutesy and clever enough to make me move to University Park, but, while "almost" counts in horseshoes, it certainly doesn't in living arrangements, and so I press on in my pursuit of the perfect apartment.

I realized in this whole process that my living requirements border on insane to the "normal" people in my life (e.g., my parents), and so I thought I would post them for the rest of the world to either balk at or confirm. I hope it's the latter. I so loathe my parents being right.

- Shared walls! If there's not a person on the other side of that wall, I don't want it. Sure, one exterior wall, maybe even two (am I worthy of a corner apartment??), but I require at least one plaster connection to life outside myself.
- No yard. I can barely keep myself alive, let alone green things.
- No excess space. And by excess, I mean existent. I don't like a lot of space. I want to feel cozy in my apartment. Otherwise I feel I might have a tendency to rattle. And who wants a rattling Caitlin? Not I, I say. Plus, I am yet to own furniture to fill space with.
- Access to public transit. I hate my entrance into the world of designated drivers. Can't we all be civilized and take busses and taxis home? Until someone gets pregnant and is therefore forced into DD-dom, I dread living in a place that requires one to "designate" and, in doing so, hope that they do not drink so much as to totally obliterate themselves, as everyone seems to have a different definition of what it means to be safe to drive.
- Nice walking. I have to have a neighborhood I can walk around. I am very fond of walking. (And don't hate on the P&P reference.)
- Parking. I have finally succumb to the need for a car in this crazy city we call that of Brotherly Love. So if I need a car, I need to be able to park it. Gone are my days of driving around for 45 minutes looking for a spot among all the suburban vehicles, visiting my neighborhood for a concert or a bar. (My life every weekend for the past year.)
[Note: Some might say to me, given your hatred of designated drivers, driving in general, and parking, why not live in Center City? You could choose not to have a car there...the only neighborhood in Philadelphia where you would be able to reverse-commute to your suburban job via: public transit. My answer to you is the next bullet.]
- Cost. I must be able to live in my apartment without going into debt. (Center City-ites pleased? Come on, I teach in a private school.)
- A notable absence of rapists and serial sexual offenders. As my current neighborhood seems to be the new hot spot to wait in your car for 20-somethings on their way home from work (see the 4th and Kater rape), or to break into women's homes and climb into bed with them (last summer's offender), I'm checking out crime rates in my new neighborhoods pretty closely.
- City. While I'm coming around to slightly more residential areas within the city, my address better end in "Philadelphia, PA 191xx". I can't say I understand it myself, but something within me feels so much more alive in the city. I want to walk to the corner to buy my milk, and have access to endless bars (did you think alcohol would have no part in this list?). And this requirement would seem to encompass many of the others: limited space, no yard, shared walls... I'm just not sure if it can sustain some of the others, such as parking and cost.

Right now, I'm pretty much decided on Manayunk. Sure, it's considered Philadelphia, but outside the bounds of the more urban parts of the city, but it would seem to meet most of my other requirements. Additionally, it would cut my commute to work in half from the South Philly-Suburbs commute, a major plus. And I can actually afford to live there, a huge bonus. If you have any other brilliant ideas, though, send 'em my way.