So, I feel the need to tell you about where I live. I was born and raised in Jacksonville, Fl. in a neighborhood called Ortega. It's kind of like the "old money" section of Jacksonville, although we were anything but "old money". There are two parts of Ortega...Ortega Forest, where I grew up, which was the "new" section (built up around the '50s) and Old Ortega (read: old money...and old homes). I loved growing up in Ortega...loved my friends, neighbors, schools, etc. It's just a really great neighborhood....safe for your kids to bike around in, and knowing that any number of neighbors will call you to say..."hey! I just saw your kid". And I will totally admit being a snob about people that lived in Deerwood and Ponte Vedra...they were "new money" and totally ostentatious about it.
But back to the point...I grew up in Ortega. I moved away for college, and then got married and moved to California. San Diego to be precise. Which I loved...and never should have left. It's where my daughter was born, and where I met 3 of my closest friends, who remain so, to this day. San Diego holds a very special place in my heart and always will.
But back to Ortega...when Gabby was about two we moved back to Jacksonville. My husband and I divorced about a year later which prompted the move back into "the bubble". "The Bubble?", you ask. "Yes, The Bubble" as it is commonly referred. "Why?" you ask? Because people that live in the bubble never leave the bubble. And people that grew up in The Bubble somehow get drawn back to it like a moth to flame. We never cross "the ditch" more commonly referred to as the St. John's River, never venture to the other side of town (unless it is to the beach...at which point you take 95 straight to the beach with blinders on so you don't realize you have left The Bubble), never cross over Blanding Blvd to the "bad side of the westside", just never leave. There is one funny thing about The Bubble though...it's not a perfect circle. It's one of those funky shaped bubbles you blow that is long and kinda curved....like this:
See, The Bubble encompasses three neighborhoods...Ortega, Avondale and Riverside, which makes it kind of L-shaped...but it stops at the bridge...the one that goes over "the ditch". And to the other side, it stops at the Super Target...which is pushing it, because the Super Target is next to...a navy base. **Gasp**... I know. There is however one exception to the boundary on that side...and to the ditch...and that my friends, is Whole Foods. it was someone's bright idea to build the Whole Foods on the other side of the ditch...past the boundary of The Bubble....which was so devastating. But after a good cry, we Ortega girls put on our big girl panties and decided we could handle it. So, like going to the beach, you must put your blinders on, pass the dreaded navy base, cross the ditch on a 3 mile long bridge to come to the mecca of all grocery stores. Which is why when you go, you plan on being there for hours. No joke.
But back to the story, now that you know what the bubble is. Way back when, I moved back to the bubble. To Old Ortega to be exact. I love it here. I also hate it here. It is the land of cute families and country clubs (which I don't mind at all....several of my friends are some of those cute families!) It is also the land of everyone knowing your business before you do. But it's pretty much like that anywhere, right? right?? But...I have my little house that Gabby and I have lived in since she was 3 1/2. And even though it continuously falls apart, I love it. It fits us...or at least it will when I get finished updating it (yes, I realize we have lived here for 10 years). And it's location was perfect...close to churches, parks, and family....oh yes, the family. When we moved here, my parents lived in OF which was across the main road, Roosevelt...and their house was approximately 1 mile away....the perfect distance. My ex husband lived in Avondale, approx. 5 miles away...again, the perfect distance...not too far to be inconvenient and not too close that we were in each others back pockets. My brother lived a few miles away (and still does...he's the one hold out), my sister lived in San Marco (across the ditch...but just barely out of the bubble), and a good bit of my extended family lived with a 2 mile radius...close enough to visit regularly...but again...not close enough for them to come knocking for a cup of sugar. Just Perfect.
My, how God likes to laugh at me sometimes. Within 3 years, my sister had gotten married and moved to OF, my parents had sold their house in OF for being "too big" and decided to build something smaller; and my ex-husband had remarried and had also decided to house hunt. And the two latter ones decided that my neighborhood was the one they wanted...my parents built a house literally around the corner from me...and my ex bought a house 2 blocks away. On the same street. Seriously. I couldn't believe it. I looked at Gabby one day and said, "We have to move". but being 6 years old, she just looked at me like I was crazy.
Somehow, I made it through. And it is convenient. Gabby can easily go to her dad's house, or my parents house on her bike now. And my parents are now close enough that I can raid their house for that cup of sugar...and whatever else they happen to have in the fridge between paychecks. But Good Lord...being in each others pockets is God awful annoying. I don't want everyone to know my business all the time. And it is very inconvenient that I have to pass certain houses every time I want to get to one of my closest friends' house...which by the way is just about every day. Or if I want to take my dog for a walk...or go to the church I grew up in. Or when you mistakenly think the guy on the bike you just passed is hot, and for a moment wonder if he's single and where he lives...only to have your child in the back seat say, "Hey look, it's Dad!". Yes, my friends, that actually happened. I almost drove off the road. And sure enough, as I gave myself whiplash turning to look, there he was turning his bike around to come chat with us. I could have died from utter mortification. And as I related my story of pure humiliation to my friend (who lives in Reno) all she did was about pee herself from laughing so hard. (Its still not funny, if you were wondering...but I love you anyway). I am such a spaz.
**SIGH** So this is my home. This is where I was raised and where I have raised my daughter. This is the neighborhood I love for all its quirks. The people, the houses, the old oak tree lined streets, even the being in each others pockets. Which is why I will never understand why someone who doesn't love this neighborhood for its quirks and its people, who doesn't have children they want to raise here, that bashes it every time they open their mouths to speak about it, would move here. If you hate it here that much, then by all means...move out. We don't want you to be here either.
