Me, Yup it up? Oh, no.

I just want to say that when I first got here I had some serious reservations about all the yuppies.  This is my judgy, judgy testament. 

I thought I had fallen into a Volvo driving, baby jogging stroller pushing, coiffed hair, trench coat wearing galaxy or, rather, a black hole.  I went to Eastern Market my first Saturday and lo and behold if I wasn't wedged between one wire-haired schnauzer after another as I squeezed down the aisles.  That seems to be the fashionable dog breed to own amongst the yup sect.  I'll get to more dominant characteristics.  Just be patient.  I need to set the scene.

Eastern market is like any other market in a metropolitan city--organic vegetables, shade grown coffees, antiques, paintings, artisan jewelry, local art, food vendors, etc.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and bought two lovely wooden cigar boxes to organize my belongings and add some charm to my scant living quarters.  And to munch, I bought some fresh kettle corn. 

While pleased with myself for having a good eye that spotted the cigar boxes tucked out of sight in a hidden booth and smacking away on my popcorn, I looked around and realized everyone looked the same, rather Stepford-esque, but in a modern urbane way not the standard 50's housewife (dare I add kitchen sink alcoholic) way.  I looked to the right, to the left, straight ahead, in the catty corners, and it washed over me.  What washed over me, you ask?  The realization I might not be able to live in this yup infestation.  Thing is I'm used to a bit of eclecticism.  Even in my not small but not medium but not large hometown you run the gambit of various colors, shapes, sizes, attitudes, opinions, and such.

Coming off of this Eastern market epiphany, I was a little blue.  Could I live in this city with so much alike-ness?  After all, this is where Brad and I would like to end up.  I kept revisisting the idea of a place called yupdom and, finally, I knew I could not reign over that throne or wear that crown.  And, as I was realizing this, I started to see things I had missed before because I was accentuating the negative rather than the positive.  Something in me switched and I noticed that it's more of an international city with all varieties of ethnicities, and, most important of all, I wandered about and found other little pockets of the city that are not yup dominant, and if I travel a little out of the city (Alexandria), it's a mixed bag of it all.

Before sending this out, I do own a trench, but let me qualify that by adding there is no baby jogging stroller in my near future, my dog is a giant, fluffy German Shepherd, Camry not Volvo, a coiffed hair on Monday but not on Tuesday through Sunday.  Who has time for that with a long commute?  Not I.

With all that said, I have had a change of heart.  Huzzah!

Note of Caution:  Beware, Hipsters (Sheena, cough cough. . .you know I love you).  You may not thrive here.