Some of you know I spent three months in Minneapolis on a summer internship in 2001. A few of you know how much I liked it there and how I longed to return.
Those feelings had waned in the last couple of years, as I realized that really I wanted city life and maybe I just loved Minneapolis because it was the first place I lived that gave me that experience. It was no Muncie, and was that ever a good thing.
Then last night I started seeing stories on the Web about the I-35W bridge collapse. I hadn't thought much about Minneapolis as of late, but bits and pieces of fond memories resurfaced.
I-35W. It was a familiar name. I tried to remember why, but concluded it was likely because of the oodles of locator maps I had created, forcing me to quickly learn to differentiate between I-35W and I-35E when the interstate split. Nonetheless, I had a weird feeling about it. You hear things like this happening all the time, but it's a completely different feeling to hear it knowing you had likely crossed that bridge.
I went to bed hoping the people I so enjoyed working with were toiling away on a bridge graphic, and they hadn't happened to be ON the bridge.
This morning, I saw the image below in a Star Tribune slideshow (minus my added graphic elements), and the reason the I-35W bridge's name sounded so familiar became immediately clear. I had crossed that bridge hundreds of times in my short time there. I walked across the pedestrian bridge, looked to my right and saw cars crossing the bridge multiple times a week. A few times, I sat in traffic on the bridge waiting to take my exit.
It has been a weird day. I'm partially in love with Minneapolis again. It was there I felt certain I had made the right choice to change majors five times in college. It was the first time I forced myself out of my element. I left my car parked and used public transportation to get to work. I made myself live with a roommate I had never before met (it was only three months, and thank god for that ... we could have a whole other blog on stories from that alone). I walked a lot more (it was a mile and a half to walk across that bridge to get home). It was even the first place where I ever ate Chipotle.
I guess it seems like it was really just primer for how I'm living my life now, minus the roommate. I might pay $1,755 a month on rent to not have one of those, but it's definitely worth the expense! I've gone farther than just parking my car, and walking a mile and a half doesn't even seem that far anymore.
And now I'm just rambling, so with mushiness, I'm off. Here's to you, Minneapolis. As I focus now on returning to Indianapolis, I fear my time with you is over, but I'll love you always.
