Thursday, April 1, 2010

Our tiny, cozy city

So, you already know I'm a craigslist addict, as I've detailed my little problem here.

I found a huge blanket chest on craigslist. I mean huge. Immense. Monstrous. Voluminous. D) All of the above. I loved it. It was too expensive for me to justify to myself and to my husband, to whom I am always delivering sermons on thriftiness.

I emailed the seller. I explained that I could use the giant chest, but could not spare the full expense of said chest. I explained that I am an artist. I sent her some snapshots of my work. (Digital, of course.)

The kind, kind woman took the bait. She lived nearby. I made a plan to stop by with selected paintings. And then, lo and behold, she turned out to be—wait for it—my blogging friend's sister.


How weird is that? My very own blogroll buddy has a sister who's selling a behemoth blanket chest, and she is actually interested in bartering for my paintings.

It gets better, people.

We made a deal, and my husband picked up the chest and brought it to our home. I arranged to take the final painting choices to the chest lady's house, so she could select her favorite. I took them there this morning. And whom should I see as I exited this lovely woman's even more lovely home? Why, an old pal from my choir days at church. She happens to live next door.

Now, how weird is that? Honestly? That we're all so strangely, inextricably connected? I know that Pittsburgh is no super-metropolitan area, but still... There are a few hundred thousand people hanging around this general region. So how come I keep bumping into familiar faces? Familiar names? Why are we all experiencing six degrees of Mel, here?

It's part of the reason that I love Pittsburgh, but also part of the reason that it freaks me out a tad. I moved here for anonymity, following a very damaging period of years spent under surveillance in a small, northwestern PA town that was so bored it investigated its single teachers to determine whom they were dating. And now, just as I'm feeling safe and unnoticed in my bigger hometown, I realize that I'm actually living in a large, clear bubble... I'm starting to see what's up. Guess I'd still better watch my back, eh?


chris h. said...

Well, the difference seems to be that these encounters are friendly, loving ones, as opposed to insidious prying. Really, how cool/fun is the whole scenario?

It really doesn't happen to me, though. I've lived here my whole life, graduated in a class of 660, and never, I mean never, run into any old classmates, neighbors, co-workers, etc. It's just weird. I would love a few more chance encounters of the buddy kind. (My old roomie, though, runs into people from Bethel Park everywhere we have ever gone together, in town or out of town.)

Facie said...

I love stories like that. But you are right. I moved from a small town, population 3,000. Everyone knew everyone else's business. After living here about 10 years, I came to discover that Pittsburgh was a small city (compared to my town, this was NYC, baby), and most of us are separated by three degrees.

Wishing you and yours a blessed Easter.