Life at an Intersection

Chicago Phoenix, indemnity bonds, journaling, really really really want a zigazig ah, travel, books, travel books, relationships, values. It is hard to pinpoint precisely, but I'd say about 82% of what you read here is true. The rest is fictional nonfiction.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Everyone at this Caribou seems to be writing! How inspiring!

That awesome location for the Taiwanese tea shop that I want to open? The rent has dropped to a mere $3,600 per month. If I could get Liza to draw me up a business plan, I might just go for it. I'm telling you, this place is perfect: the counters, the tall, germ-blocking plastic barriers, the sinks. There isn't even a Starbucks next door, which is a minor miracle in nearly any big city in the world.

I had this friend in a previous life - we aren't really in touch any longer - and he used to say that he really enjoyed having a routine. He liked the regularity, the liturgy of daily repetitions, of being a faithful doer of the same daily or weekly activities. This made me think, maybe even say to him - I don't actually remember, how boring. As the world turns, I have become that person. Every Thursday on my day off, I walk 3 blocks to the 7-11 and get a couple of doughnuts for breakfast. I drop off the Netflix disc that I watched the night before in the corner mailbox. Later in the day I go to Marshalls and TJMaxx for a little fun shopping. On sunny summer days, I go to the beach. On frosty winter mornings, I cram my hockey blades in my backpack and go downtown to Millennium Park for a few hours of ice skating. When I am blessed with a Saturday off, I take the bus to my favorite downtown farmers market where I walk the blocks and admire the baked goods, produce, flowers, and cheese. And I buy absolutely nothing. I go to the Corner Bakery at State and Elm and buy a baby bundt cake. I take it down a block to that fun little plaza where I can sit and read and eat and watch the tourists and Gold Coasters come and go.

Strange how we become the people that we used to know, and the people that we used to know become unknowable.

Currently admitting that I fell asleep last night listening to:
All the Way: A Decade of Song by Celine Dion

Monday, September 21, 2009

Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night


This is a fictional account.

I was a terrible person the other night. I don't remember most of it. The drinks were evidently much stronger on this particular night than on all other previous nights that I've spent at this bar. Also, we got a pitcher, and I drank almost all of it. Hrm. My escorts were being pussies, and I didn't want anything to go to waste, child of the Depression that I am. After a good bit of the bebidas had been drunk, there was (I've heard) a hairless Filipino involved somehow, in some way; also some dancing and heavy petting with a Christina Aguilera-type drag queen (I actually remember this); some incredible freaking out about a mysteriously disappearing straw; some gradual inability to remain steadily upright; and some persistent badgering for me to take my shirt off on the dance floor (this did not, would never happen).

Like I said, though, I don't remember most of the four hours that we spent at this particular bar. This has never, ever happened to me before. This should probably have happened to me sometime in my early 20s, if it was ever going to happen. What is it about my personal permanent developmental delay? Why am I so far behind all of my peers? Also, I suspect that I was drugged.

I was driven home, though I live a mere six blocks from this particular establishment. Things were spinning. I was walked to my door. I managed to stay in bed for a few minutes before the puking began. Serious, soul-shifting puking. The puking lasted until the next day, mid-afternoon. Also there was a grinding headache. I was miserable. I had to cancel the only plans that I had been looking forward to that weekend, cancel on a nice afternoon with some uber-cool friends. Boo on me.

What did I learn from this? I learned that when the first sip makes you say, "Hey, this is a lot stronger than usual," you should slow the fuck down. Also, I learned that dancing with a cross-dresser is fun as long as no one is taking pictures, and you don't linger; get in, get out.

Currently Listening to
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning and
Digital Ash in a Digital Urn by Bright Eyes because I was talking to this guy the other day, and he said how he really likes Bright Eyes too but hasn't listened to him in forever, and it made me realize that I haven't listened to him in forever either. And that is some good stuff, people.

Lynchburg Trip

Here are some photos that I took when I went to visit my family down in Lynchburg a couple of weekends ago.

From Lynchburg 9-09

Papa, Nana, and Ellie (2 years old)

From Lynchburg 9-09

Jesse (4 months old)

From Lynchburg 9-09

We went on a walk, and I was pushing Jesse in the stroller. He took to me right away, and he loves me. Too bad he won't actually remember me next time we meet, at Christmas or whenever.

From Lynchburg 9-09

Ellie doesn't love me yet - we're working on that - but she loves her heart-shaped sunglasses. Too bad she always puts them on upside down.

From Lynchburg 9-09

This is very modern art, don't you think?

From Lynchburg 9-09

I really like this quiet moment with Ellie and my mom.

From Lynchburg 9-09


From Lynchburg 9-09

That same walk in the woods.

From Lynchburg 9-09

What a cutie, first thing in the morning.

From Lynchburg 9-09

Killer smile.

Monday, September 7, 2009



The last day of summer? Say it ain't so! Well, I flagrantly overstayed my SPF at the beach today in an effort to soak up every last drop of sun. God willing and the bottom don't drop out, there may be a couple of beach days left in the year yet.

It isn't good for me to be alone. Someone wise said that way back in Genesis, but maybe I'm just now getting around to agreeing. Being alone means lots of time with one's thoughts, and oftentimes one's thoughts aren't good company. The mind wanders, and it settles on troubles of the past, unresolved emotional damages, questions of why that will never be answered. (Don't ask why questions, Anne Lamott's friend Father Tom says. He's probably on to something there.)

I miss things a lot. Very specific things. Last week I missed the Borders store in that enormous Berjaya Times Square mall in Kuala Lumpur. It felt omniscient to me, safe, comforting, like a big bookstore hug. We stayed for hours. I bought a fantastic book by Jonathan Safran Foer. Don't spill any coffee on it, Liza dear.

Then I thought about waiting for a bus on the side of the road in Kuala Lumpur, waiting and waiting and being not sure if we should just get on the next bus because it seemed like ours would never come. So we did, we hopped a random bus, and we got to where we needed to be. Oh God, there's that pronoun. I thought that I had ruthlessly eliminated that pronoun from my life. Epic pronoun fail.

Today I missed the New Siam II Guesthouse in Bangkok. As far as I can remember, this is the only place in my travels that I have ever returned to stay on multiple occasions. I love the tiny triangular shower, the echoy corridors, the Asian satellite television stations, the "Please Don't Flush Your Toilet Paper" sign that is a little more informative than most others. Actually, it answers the why question, so take that, Father Tom.

I miss my Grandma, my scooter, Marilyn at Wagor Bilingual Academy, McKays Used Books and CDs, the feeling of knowing that someone would be waiting for me when I got off of work on a Saturday. I miss Carolina beaches and going to Argo Tea with a friend.

Last week we found out that our bank branch is going to be permanently closed next March. This does not mean that I will be losing my job. The bank has said that we will all be moved to other locations. But this potential reality shift causes me two conflicting emotional responses: relief and trepidation. First I'm thinking, sweet, here's my exit. I don't want to stay in banking forever, but it is a bird in the hand at this moment of 10% unemployment. I should seize this opportunity next spring to quit and take some more time to travel before I (at least attempt to once again) enter school next fall. Once I'm in school, it is pretty much a career-track sort of thing, so this would be my last chance to really have a wide-open travel experience. If I chose to be moved to a new location instead, there's all sorts of starting-over trauma involved there. But then I would have a job to help me transition into graduate school, pay the bills, etc. Some interesting choices ahead, I guess.

Going down to Lynchburg this weekend to hang out with the family. Let's be optimistic - it should be a fun time. Ideally I'd like to just carry my luggage on the plane and not have to check any bags, but with the amount of patience that I am going to have to pack, that might not be a possibility.

I found the perfect location for opening up a Taiwanese tea shop today. It is a tiny storefront and has cute counters and basically no space - ideal. Sadly, the monthly rent is $4,800. I don't think I've saved up quite enough to buy a couple of lid-sealing machines and get this venture off the ground yet.

Currently Watching:
Brokeback Mountain

Currently Listening to:
Illinoise by Sufjan Stevens

Twitter / Davie_St

Words That I'm Living By - 5/2/2010

Time, as I've known it
Doesn't take much time to pass by me
Minutes into days, turn into months
Turn into years, they hurry by me
But still I love to see the sun go down
And the world go around

Dreams full of promises
Hopes for the future, I've had many
Dreams I can't remember now
Hopes that I've forgotten,
faded memories
But still I love to see the sun go down
And the world go around

And I love to see the morning
as it steals across the sky
I love to remember and
I love to wonder why
And I hope that I'm around
so I can be there when I die
When I'm gone

I hope that you will think of me
In moments when you're happy and you're smiling
That the thought will comfort you
On cold and cloudy days
if you are crying
And that you'll love to see
the sun go down
And the world go around
And around and around

"Around and Around" by Mark Kozelek

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