normalizing

Beth says that when you get hit by lightning your body fundamentally changes, so that lightning is drawn to you. People hit by lightning are more apt to get hit by lightning again and again.

My body is slowly becoming accustomed to the Chicago elements. I am starting to shed the slight uncomfortableness of being in a new place. My allergies are completely gone, which seems miracle enough. Although I find the city noise and bustle to be unpleasant and I have begun to yearn for the country.l I do enjoy the weather and the dramatic changes it takes throughout the day. The lightning/thunder last night was brutal. I think the garage beside my bedroom wall was struck by lightning.

When I glance down at my feet I momentarily startle because they do not look like my own. They are a pleasant toasted brown color as a result of being on the beach for four days. I had forgotten what a different shade my skin becomes when exposed to sunshine and it adds a strange oldness to the newness of becoming normalized.

dunes

I went to Lake Michigan. It is a huge lake. Look at that picture. It is huge. And it was this carribean blue color. I didn't want to swim in a murky dark mess of a lake. I didn't have to. The water was clear and seemed to be clean, although that may be a questionable assumption when dealing with Lake Michigan.

We looked at the stars by the fire near the lapping waves. We learned to make fires efficiently. I left sandy dirty and relaxed all around. We caught the headlines in town of Beirut in flames. It is alarming yet seems so far away. I wonder about my friend that was living there and if he is okay, or if he had left the city. When the big blood orange slice of moon rises over the horizon and we sing silly camp songs to keep the cougars away it seems like a good thing to stay away from the noisy places. Until you read the details of destruction and then feel like we have to stop this craziness in the world. Then it is time to go home and clean the sand out of my ears.

dancing in september

The sun has set and the skies of Chicago are alive with fireworks. The constant pops and crackles and booms will last most of the night. It is hot, but in a way that is soft, relaxing, and moist, tempered by a semi-cool breeze. I am obssessed with weather conditions. I imagine being 80 and sitting on a front porch talking about the weather for hours on end. Assuming there still is weather when I am 80. Actually, I'd be happy doing that as my main occupation when I hit 40.

Most (all?) members of Earth, Wind, and Fire grew up in the Henry Horner Homes here in Chicago. Henry Horner is a project that was erected in the mid-50s when a bunch of federal $ was allocated for housing. And then was neglected for decades in this segregated ghetto-ridden city. It was all meant to happen that way – no accident there. And it is one of the buildings that will be demolished under Chicago Housing Authority's new plan to tear down all the public housing.

Back to Earth, Wind, And Fire. I was in the grocery store and "September" came on over the store sound system. And people could not help boogie-ing in the aisles. Almost everyone was doing a little dance. Some thinking no one was watching, others just blatantly shaking their booty. We were seriously one beat away from having a spontanteous choreographed musical moment. Really, you have to be inhuman to resist Earth, Wind, And Fire.

Do you remember the 21st night of september?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing.
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

Say do you remember
Dancing in September
Never was a cloudy day

yeah.

When I left the Bay the sky looked empty. Here the sky is windy, big, leafy, and lately full of fireworks (Chicago celebrates the 4th for a whole week). When it is really hot, you can't really do anything until around 11pm which is problematic when you have nothing to do.

Sometimes some people make you feel like you have to do something though. Like write your book, make your movie, take your trip, or sing your song. You know what I mean. Usually it is someone that is writing his book, making his movie, taking his trip or singing his song. (replace "his" with "her" if appropriate). Sum this up with a 3AM text message I received from S: "OMG Bjork is so F-ing HOT!!!"

random chicago observance

If you order a sandwich in this town there is a 95% chance that you will get a dill pickle served with it.

living in the country

Someone came over to my new apartment and exclaimed, "It's like living in the country!" It's not really like living in the country, but my neighborhood is pretty mellow for a city. Berkeley is more bustling than Logan Square for sure. People plant these really nice little flower gardens on the corners of streets. Old brick buildings have pretty trees in front and "For Rent" signs in the windows. New condos sit empty and latino families have moving out yard sales on the weekends.

I am busy watching lightning storms and painting walls bright colors. I've been drinking a beer a day, watching fake Russian cosmonauts at the Gene Siskel, reading about "The Machine", and talking about neoliberalism in the book club, and of course being bored out of my mind working. When when when when when?

fireflies

Okay, so I am being really bad and blogging during work .

Fireflies are amazing. They flew low and heavy over A's garden yesterday at dusk. I got to study them up close. They are flying lanterns. I had assumed they were mythical animals that existed only in my childhoood. But, they actually exist. I don't understand how people can see these magical little splashes of light without experiencing complete awe. It is like being able to watch a shooting star up close.

weekend

My new neighborhood farmer's market had two stands set up today. One selling bread and one selling apple butter. No vegetables were for sale. One guy at a stand said that it was slow because of father's day and usually there are 5 or 6 stands.

Yesterday was Puerto Rican pride day. And it was super windy yet warm. I slept with the windows open and you could hear the raucous crowds and police sirens all night. My cat was uneasy by all the commotion and whined all night long. Fun. Today he fell asleep in the closet on top of a back pack.

I noticed this weekend that there are a lot of yuppies in Chicago and that it is best to avoid them.

mr. happy

I've been too tired to write in this blog. I've only been living here for 2 weeks now, so I guess my slackness is forgiveable.

Turns out that my chiropractor is zany. He told me a story about one of his patients discovering that chiropractic treatment solved his impotence problem. While telling this story, my chiropractor referred to the penis as "Mr. Happy." I don't make this stuff up kids.

But hey, my back feels a lot better.

update

What Chicago looks like:
There are a lot of different kinds of bricks in Chicago. Brick is everywhere.

How I feel:
I feel like I need a vacation, like I have been operating on overdrive for months. I am actually looking forward to going to the chiropractor. Usually I hate going to see doctors of any kind. I am trying a place called "The Wellness Center", doesn't that sound nice? Oh and St. John's Wart is a wonderful substance. I love it.

How I am getting new stuff:
My books are all showing up busting out of their boxes. I am scouring Craigslist for bookshelves. I have never used Craigslist to acquire things before this move, now I am addicted. I look at anything posted that looks remotely interesting usually "purple" or "vintage" are words that indicate an interesting post.

The status of my cat's cat food:
I am also on the lookout for the special kind of cat food that my cat eats. I have a half a bag left, things are getting desperate. He is a puker. So, I know if I am forced to switch brands I will have a lot of puke to look forward to.

What I did tonight:
I went to the first meeting of the book club tonight with some smarty pants people. We discussed the book "A Brief History of Neoreolism".

hello chicago

I'm in Chicago now. With a need to have things in place so I can think. My body is not right. I have plans to go to the Chicago Wellness Center very soon. The pain has been a major impediment the past few weeks. I hope it is just temporary. I had so many things to write about. Now that I have internet I can't remember them. I did go the local movie theater the other night. $3 movie. Can't beat it. And the candy was cheap too. My bike is yellow and is named "Scout" and it has a seat that looks like a saddle. There are good things going on.

desire

I'm afraid of leaving the theater. I remember sitting in a darkened theater years ago and experiencing an intense longing. The hush of the audience as the lights go down. The first splash of light on the screen. When I am away from it I miss it, but unknowingly. I am afraid to leave the theater because I will have to carry that longing around.

I experience the same feeling when I am on a Cape Cod ferry. A desire for a place that is impossible to satisfy. It will overtake my heart at surprising moments. When I see a certain shade of blue or catch a wiff of salt air. I've been wondering lately if I am gravitating towards the Cape. Am I being pulled towards the place I was born in some inescapable circle? Why am I also pulled towards a movie screen? People's inside wiring is such a mystery. Everyone's desire is triggered differently.

uptown blues

My entire body is aching. My back is one big muscle spasm. The chiropractor told me not to lift anything heavy. Ha ha. Funny because she must not know about the 8 boxes of books sitting in my living room waiting to go to the post office.

My going away party is over with. It was fun with a bit of a 'this is your life' feel to it. Or as someone put it, it's like having your funeral while you are still alive. (And look, people DID show up - whew!) Things are shaping up and coming to nice little packaged endings. Seems that I can still be a belligerent drunk idiot in my car and my good friends still talk to me. Although I'm not taking those friends with me to Chicago. Probably new people won't be so forgiving. People said I seem happy. I think I seem happy. Someone asked me if I'm sad to leave. And I'm just not.

The Uptown however I will miss. It's a place you can always go and find someone you know. A place where more than once I've stayed until the lights came on and we all got kicked out. A place to sit on comfy sofas and have a surprisingly hearfelt conversation with someone, or an irrelevant name-dropping chat, or an analytical political debate. A place where silly things happen. And it turns out it is named after a Chicago neighborhood. Who knew.

back in the bay

I am back in the bay to tie up some strings. I immediately felt constricted and stressed upon debarking the plane. It's amazing that I really am truly ready to leave.

I actually miss Chicago even though I just left this morning. I miss the oldness, and the brick, and the trees and the calmness I feel when I'm there. And I found this crazy apartment to live in. It's big and it is all mine.

I try to squeeze the new people I meet into the molds of old familiar people. For example Susie reminds me of a combination of friend x and friend y. And Rhonda is the spitting image of friend z. I think that might be my mind trying to make sense of all the newness.

This weekend I have a few days in the bay with old familiar friends. I need to fill up since these days need to carry me through a bunch of no-one-knows-me days. Which can be as frustrating as they are liberating. This weekend is also my last chance to bellyache about the bay area. Because once I am firmly planted in Chicago I will start bellyaching about that town.

big trees big city

Today the tall leafy trees were swaying wildly in the wind. The trees tower over everything. When riding the train I notice how the trees often dwarf the houses. Big trees is a nice feature for a city, it can take some of the coldness out of it. Everything is in motion and things are progressing. It is too late to stop it now (Not that I want to). I hear Hotel California in the subway every morning which gives an eerie sadness to the start of the day. There are some good street musicians here although their repertoire could be bigger. I overheard a phone conversation on the train as I was coming home from work tonight. The guy was mired in a mucky yucky life. Trying to renegotiate the rent at his apartment and simultaneously defending his depressed girlfriend. Damn, I have escaped my mucky yucky situations. Now things are new. But that can be hard too.

first times

Tomorrow I start my new job. Soon, I won't live in California anymore. Nobody knows me here, except for one very cute person. I will be meeting my co-workers for the first time. I have never been to the neighborhood where I will be working before. I haven't found a place to live yet.

proof

This picture is proof that a wild parrot lives in my neighborhood. He nestles in the palm tree in front of my house. After months of hearing his lonely call and only catching glimpses of him from far away, TODAY he appears right in front of us, squaks and seems to pose for the camera. Is it a send off?

A parrot sighting helped me get through this trying day of Uhauls and dumping old sofas. We also had a Jim Jones Jr. sighting inside the Uhaul store. Then we passed a group of witches leaving the farmer's market. California is kooky, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I finished off my day with a screening of Bunuel's The Phantom of Liberty which is seriously absurd followed by some very hot food from S's kitchen.

I will miss my days at the theater. I can feel the audience in the theater when I am in the other room. It is a difficult sensation to describe; it's like they are sleeping. A big group of people sleeping together. They are all sitting in the dark experiencing their own separate filmic sensations. I feel protective of them as if they are helplessly suspended in vats. Film is so addictive. I need to continue feeding it.

edge

In the past 24 hours I have been at a ridiculous film schmooze party, a box turtle refuge, and the edge of the pacific. My belongings are dwindling. I have shed pounds of material goods every day this week.

I have a chance to start over I think to myself as I stand in the middle of the ridiculous film party. When beginnings happen it seems that you can do everything over again and be a better person. I can make those changes I've always wanted to make. I can start doing yoga. Eat better. And be more patient. Of course the beginning will become a middle and then eventually another end. But still, at the beginning of the beginning there are all sorts of possibilities. And as I walk to the car with one of S's high heels on one foot and one of my leather boots on the other, I think I don't have to see any of these people for a very long time.

separation anxiety

I feel a little bit lighter with each piece of furniture that disappears. Leaving is becoming more and more of a reality. It is funny how people say goodbye. Some people surprise me with niceness and others walk away as their cell phone rings. And I am left wondering why are you not devastated by my departure? My sentimentality factor is way out of hand as I get separation anxiety about people I barely know. On the upside, I am getting rid of a lot of stuff that I don't need. Including the huge down jacket I've kept only because I thought if I ever had to sleep on the streets it could save my life from the cold. It would be good for everyday wintertime use in Chicago except that it has 80s shoulder pads. Bad wintertime fashion is not the way to make friends in a new city. I shudder to think that my wardrobe will scream "I'm from California!"

birthday cake buildings

I may have ridden the 22 Filmore for the last time as a Bay Area resident today. I passed by the red victorian with glitter strewn steps, I waved at my chiropractor, and I looked at the flower murals painted on the sunshine-filled San Francisco flats. Michelle Tea called them buildings that look like birthday cakes and it is how I always think of them. I have always wanted to photograph San Francisco bay windows glowing from the inside during crisp Christmas-time nights. I will miss not knowing people and not being known.