Damn it! Now I want to watch ‘The Neverending Story’ and ‘Return of the Jedi.’
I don’t know why, but I really (REALLY) want Cheez-It crackers right now.
Update: AAAAAAaaand currently eating some. Thank you, basement vending machines
When I was in San Francisco, the activity opportunities were endless. One day, Brittin, Laura and I decided to trot up to Sonoma on a whim, visiting three lovely vineyards and enjoying a lunch outside. Another day, I met up with my friend Ali, and we went to the Pier. We ended up walking back to the Mission — nearly the entire length of the city — chatting the afternoon away on the winding streets of the city. The trip, particularly the day with Ali, made me realize how much I missed the freedoms that a warm climate and a compact city affords you. There was no need to think about, “Now, if I go out tonight, will I want to wait at the bus stop in five degree weather for a half hour at 1 a.m.? And if I don’t, will I want to pay $15 to get home?” Weather and distance were not factors in the planning of our days. I remember walking about 12 blocks home by myself, almost settling into the possibility of that being My Life, walking along Valencia and Mission and stopping into the little print stores and taquerias. I told myself that the next time I was tempted to spend a weekend afternoon watching TV, I would instead spend it strolling the streets. Today I woke up and thought, perhaps I’ll go to Milwaukee this afternoon and go to the museum. But, of course, thanks to the lovely Chicago winter, both strolling and short trips are ill-advised on a day like today. It’s amazing how prohibitive the weather can be, even for people like me, who are inclined to not surrender to it.
About this time last year, Laura was beginning the plotting of her move back to San Francisco. I was panicked at the thought of this; I had gotten out of a bad relationship that year (thankfully), and many friends were also thinking of moving away. Losing a best friend seemed like the cherry on top of a string of bad months, especially in the context of that insanely gray winter we had last year. One day, we were in Uptown, and she was explaining why she was thinking of moving. “I was thinking about it,” she said, “and I realized I don’t have to put up with this.” That simple statement made me accepting and supportive of the move, and also stuck with me and made me question my own commitment to living here. Why DO so many people put up with these heinous winters? Why DO you stay here even though you hate the CTA? No one is requiring you to stay in Chicago.
I think it requires a certain degree of masochism to stay in Chicago. You know it’s going to be terrible in the winter, you know you’re going to hate it, but you come back for it every year. I think there is a certain degree of pride in putting up with it, too, or some element of comfort in the brutality of the winter. It bonds people together in a way; it’s a rare subject that virtually the entire city can agree on: winter sucks, but we will all make it through! And it certainly makes for a good excuse. Having a terrible week? Depressed? Don’t feel like going out? “The weather,” makes a handy, superficial way to explain away many of your woes.
My current commitment to stay in the city is some mix of love, laziness and business complications. I say that if I worked an “office job,” I’d be rather inclined to pack it up and move out to SF or somewhere. Give it a go when I’m young, and stop fighting the winter. Having my own business makes it a bit harder, and also requires much more advanced planning—almost a year instead of a couple months, and who’s to say I’d want to move out there a year from now? And despite the nastiness of the winter, the summers here (when they aren’t sweltering) are fantastic. That day in April or May when Division explodes and everyone is dining al fresco is like a rebirth for the city. Suddenly there are people (people!) outside, drinks are flowing, and worries of waiting for buses disappear from your mind.
Very relevant to my life currently. Very.
Helium walks into a bar. The bartender says, “I’m sorry, but we don’t serve noble gases here.” Helium doesn’t react.
It has come to my attention that I make a lot of posts about food (at least five of the ten entries preceding this one, for example).
I take no issue with this whatsoever.
Corned beef hash is always a great idea in the morning.
Bacon, a biscuit, and an absurdly large coffee are also a good idea, though not so much when accompanying corned beef hash.
I’m not even finished, and I’m already so full that I feel sick (makes me feel like a real American). I’m going to eat the rest of this, damn it.
Just did my taxes..state and federal. This is, by far, the earliest I’ve ever had them completely finished. I e-filed and everything.
I get $90 back from the Fed and $34 back from Illinois, which is very nice, especially since I owed money last year. Thanks, IRA.
My new ear piercing has finally started itching. I’ve dreaded this very much.
I’ll never understand why I’m randomly freezing at times. It’s like 70 in my apartment. Perfectly warm. I fucking hate my circulation. Maybe I’m going through the change? I mean…
I’ve been in a baking sort of mood lately. On Sunday night, I made sugar cookies for Jasmine and Jason. Last night, I made a shit-ton of oatmeal raisin cookies. Quite delicious. I’ve taken it upon myself to make bread pudding with some sort of liqueur sauce this weekend.
Speaking of blacks…
I just realized that Monday is MLK Day.
Three-day weekend, bitches!!!!
*Ahem* I mean…free at last!
I had to wait an hour for the god-damned bus this morning.
It’s twelve fucking degrees outside.
I’ve been inexplicably anxious all day. I don’t get it.
Anyway…I’ve been lightly addicted to the following songs of late:
“The Man Who Sold the World” - David Bowie
“I’ll Believe in Anything” - Wolf Parade
“6 Underground” - The Sneaker Pimps (Per usual. I’m beginning to think I have a problem.)
“Red and Purple” - The Dodos
“Love My Way” - The Psychedelic Furs (found this on an online profile of a friend and subsequently couldn’t get enough)
Yeah, that’s it. What?