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.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Lame Times Three

This is a perfectly lovely little video. If you have six minutes - I know, an eternity in internet video time! - give it a whirl.

Fifty People, One Question: Brooklyn from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.




Where would you wish to wake up tomorrow? That question really suceeded in capturing my imagination the other day. I guess it says a bit about my personality and state of mind that I searched my memory for the most wonderful place that I could remember waking up over the last few years. I rewound to beds and hostels and apartments and morning views from windows in several Central American, Asian, and North American cities. I considered emotions more than company, simple location more than emotion, the past much more than future possibility. But I thought about all of these things. I haven't yet come up with a definitive answer, though I have conjured some great contenders. What a fun thought exercise.

There is a boy that I like. The circumstances of our meeting could not have been more perfectly off-the-wall, more expectedly unexpected. Imagine someone slipping on a banana peel or standing in front of a huge audience with his zipper down and you aren't far off.

Of course, there are a million miles between "There is a boy that I like" and "There is a boy, and he and I are in like with each other." I tend to view this as a similar situation to a job search, though. (That sounds rather dispassionate, doesn't it? My, what a romantic I've unbecome.) The biggest hurdle to getting oneself a new job is scoring an interview; getting past that resume stage, having the opportunity for the sit-down, face-to-face. After that, it is cake and "Where's my cubicle, who signs the overtime slips, please?" (I say this not because it is true for me, but because it is true for every person that reads my blog. Give us a chance, and we succeed.)

So it is pretty much the same thing with friendships and relationships. It is difficult to charm some handsome boy with a Facebook message or make a new friend just by sharing your table with them at the coffee shop. You need a chance to talk, to ask, to wear a new shirt that you love, to show them your favorite restaurant and pay the bill and put your best face forward. So I guess that I'm hoping for that chance.

My coworker is pregnant. Her pregnancy is making me hungry. She just found out that she is expecting on Friday, and she's already eating for two, bringing these elaborate, delicious-smelling meals to work or ordering the most fantastic greasy takeout in a forty block radius. I just realized that the second sentence of this paragraph might make it sound like I want to eat her or her baby. That's funny. I don't.

Currently Listening to:
Sun Kil Moon Ghosts of the Great Highway and
Ryan Adams and the Cardinals Cardinology

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Ari and Happy

So I'm walking north on Clark Street this evening, headed out to the coffee palace to drink something wonderful and fall-like and enjoy my book, when this middle-aged gentleman stops me and struggles to get his question out.

"Excuse me...um...do you know if...are there any...how do you call them...um...I'm looking for a bar. Do you know if there are...um...any bars around here?"

He has a Caribbean accent, if that helps. Go back and read that scintillating dialogue with a Caribbean accent, if you please.

"Well, of course," I reply, in what I hope was a kind tone with a slightly condescending, yer-an-idiot, Midwestern sort-of edge. It is a fine art, this Chicago tone. I'm working on it. "There's bars all over here. What are you looking for?"

"I want a...strip bar. Yes, a strip bar."

"Guys or girls?" was my next query.

"Girls, girls," was his rapid reply.

"Wrong neighborhood, pal."

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I'm going to Portland the first week in November to see my old gal pal Liza. I'm so excited about this. Hopefully I'll get to see the Cam'rons for a spell as well. The Pacific Northwest holds so many wonderful people that I love!

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This is an exciting concert week for me. Sunday night Sofia and I are going to support one of our favorite bank customers at his movie premiere/band show. We actually have really good luck with these things; when our customers invite us to their concerts and restaurants and theatre productions, we generally have a really good time and get to appreciate people that we only associate with balances and casual conversation in a cool new way.

Even more exciting, though, is the three night Lucinda Williams concert extravaganza that I'm going to be partaking in on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. This is her 30th anniversary tour, and she's highlighting music from three different albums on each of the three nights. I'm excited to hear some older and lesser-known, but personal favorite selections.

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I got to go to the opening night of the Chicago International Film Festival this past Thursday night. (Side note: this is because the secret of life - sorry, James Taylor and Oprah - is knowing some well-connected Jews.) It was a fun night, with several celebrities, both actual and local, in attendance. Uma Thurman was there, as was Jacqueline Bisset, Roger Ebert, and Mayor Daley. Uma's new movie Motherhood was the opening film of the festival, and yeah, it was not great. But it doesn't matter that much because I could look at her all day. And since she was there and all, they gave her a Career Achievement award in what had to have been one of the most awesomely awkward ceremonies ever. Seriously, it might have been David Brent giving the award, it was that bad. Michael Kutza, the director or creator or whatever of the festival, needs to be put out to pasture, like, stat. He kept correcting people that he was standing beside at the podium, even Uma! And when he went to give her the award, he couldn't find it, even though it was in the podium. Anyway, the whole thing made Chicago's film community look really third-rate, which it probably is, so no big deal.

Currently Listening to:
Ryan Adams and the Cardinals Follow the Lights and
The Format Interventions and Lullabies and
Lucinda Williams World Without Tears

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

Photobucket

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
Cassadega
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

Siblings.

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.

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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