At Least It's Not Cleveland

At Least It’s Not Cleveland

The Following was submitted by Stacie from Bloomfield.

I tell people I’m from Pittsburgh, but I live in Bloomfield. This tears my mother apart, as does my insistence on calling ‘pop’ it’s rightful name, which is soda.

My mother is a die hard Bloomfield lifer. She is from Bloomfield. She gets shifty when crossing over Penn Avenue. She’s a hopeless devotee of that Bloomfield/Garfield news letter that most people toss the minute it arrives in the mail. She has never lived anywhere other than this charming little neighborhood.

And now I find myself in the same position; almost 30 and still living in Bloomfield. I suppose you are wondering why, seeing as I dislike the place so much. Well, I could blame it on something noble, like love, and that wouldn’t be completely untrue. But I fear owing my living situation to that alone would be disingenuous.

Years past I was Bloomfield’s resident weirdo. The assorted Big Hairs and Rabid Jocks didn’t know what to make of me. Now the weirdoes have taken over and Bloomfield is teeming with the sort of people who call to mind the phrase ‘alternative lifestyle’. This is progress, I think, and a comeuppance for all those who ridiculed me because I crossed some line in the sand that I didn’t even know existed.

The reason I don’t wish to stay is the reason why young people tend to flee from Pittsburgh en masse; there is just nothing here for us, unless you are a functioning alcoholic or devoted churchgoer. There is no ‘scene’ to speak of, and if you assert otherwise you are just fooling yourself. This is a starter town. It’s a good place to get your feet wet, but if you want real, big city living, seek elsewhere.

I’ve grown a little more fond of Pittsburgh with each passing year. I just hope that someday I will be able to admire it from afar.