To market, to market...

I think I was born to live in a big city. I love all the people, the traffic noise that lulls me to sleep at night, the bright lights. . . What I did not expect from the city life: the lack of grocery stores. James and I went to every grocery store in our neighborhood (provided by google search) and found them to be only delis with a small selection of Vitamin Waters and Doritos. Or my favorite grocery experience, the day we made it our goal to buy food for our bare apartment. The four, yes four, stores we found were all small Spanish markets. With only dried rice, beans, and Goya grape jelly, we thought we were never going to eat again. Armed with a GPS Blackberry, we set out for a third time to find a grocery store. Thank God for GPS, we have to make it! Somehow our GPS is in on the great grocery store joke, too. We found ourselves staring at the back of a warehouse in the scariest part of Newark I've seen (right next to the garbage dump). Exhausted, and on the verge of starvation, we made a u-turn to head home. In the distance the familiar brick silhouette, shopping carts, and sprawling parking lot. . . the grocery store!