We like lemonade.

The past few days sparked a healthy debate on my Facebook page. Mike was offered jobs in Detroit and Philly. Because I love controversy, I posted our predicament in my status update for comment. Oops. Sorry, Detroit. I hope you weren't online. If so, it's a good thing you have thick skin.

It's clear that most people think of Detroit as Uncle Ned. You know, the relative who shows up at weddings and reunions shit-faced and makes an ass out of himself, falling over tables and looking down Aunt Edna's shirt. Just like poor Ned, Detroit seems to be an embarrassment to many and a city few want to associate with. Philly, on the other hand, is the perky, peppy captain of the high-school cheerleading squad. Rich, popular, hip, trendy, beautiful and loved by all. Who wouldn't want to be her friend? Only a total loser.

Yup. C'est moi.

Now, before y'all call the wacky wagon and have me hauled away, let me explain. It was a tough decision. My family lives near Philly. My parents rock. Anyone in their right mind would want to be near them. In fact, that's probably why half of my friends live in PA/CT/NJ/NY. (Are you guys going to my parents' house on the weekends and not telling me?) But the decision was driven by opportunity. I've been miserable at quite a few jobs in my life. But, when I found a job I loved, waking up was so much easier. I was so much happier, full of energy and motivation. That's how it should be for Mike. That's how it will be now.

Sure, Philly would be better from a personal standpoint. But, I don't mind a town that's rough and crusty. I love dive bars, cold beers and bluesy blues. I could live in cut-offs and tank tops and have smoked a few cigars in my day. (Yes, Mom.) I've gotten into a verbal joust with a truck driver that resulted in me yelling some nasty stuff about someone's mama that I'm sure wasn't appreciated. I nearly got kicked out of a bar in New Orleans for challenging Mike to a seated chair race across a dance floor. How the hell do you get reprimanded for behaving badly at a bar in N'awlins? Practice and effort. In fact, the day I reconnected with Mike was the night I was being thrown out of "Down Under" a pub in NYC. If it wasn't for that episode, we might not be married now. Given my past abuses, I'm not sure this filly is worthy of Philly. Plus, the city of Brotherly Love has enough citizens. Detroit needs more denizens with a little piss and vinegar. I'm happy to oblige.

So, throw me your Detoit lemons. We're going to buy a 4,000 sq. ft. crib for $5, sit on our porch, stare at the vacant houses around us and toast life's next adventure with some lemonade. Or is it the Detroit Kool-Aid we're drinking?

Put Your Hands Up For Detroit -- Our Lovely City
Watch at your own risk.