I’ve always been weary of parking in downtown Syracuse. The one-way streets and parking meters have always terrified me — it’s my driving luck to go the wrong way, or to park in a fire hydrant zone without noticing. I feel you have to leave 20 minutes early to find a parking spot, only to finally show up five minutes late.
I never really understood the appeal of staying in your hometown after school. I liked the idea of jet-setting across the country; I was eager to find a new place, a new start, a new version of myself.