I wish...

... I liked my job as much as this guy.

Heh. I guess we can all learn a lot from a Zamboni.

Maybe 2010 will have me smiling like that.

Chicago Celebrities

I just had my picture taken with Rod Blagojevich, and he told me that my hair looked "nice."

I'm not sure how to assess this situation, seeing as how I can't seem to stop giggling like a maniacal girl scout in a roomful of thin mints. Is this funny? YES. Is this weird? Absolutely. Is this something I should think about with a little more depth? Probably.

Here's the thing:

I was just getting off work when someone came in and said, "Rod Blagojevich is sitting at the Starbucks patio right now," and everyone around me FLIPPED OUT. Some people wanted to start a fist fight. Some people wanted to ignore it. And some people, like myself, wanted to see it -- the dirty, criminal, celebrity politician -- firsthand. I checked my bag to make sure I had my camera with me, which I did, and said, "I want a picture with him."

The thing is, I didn't quite know WHY I wanted a picture with him, at least I didn't know until it was snapped, and I stated, "I now have a celebrity photo!"

Blagojevich IS a celebrity and whether it's for reasons that are good or bad doesn't matter anymore. He's made national, if not global, headlines. He's Britney Spears. He's Paris Hilton. He's OUT THERE, and that fact is undeniable. Why is he out there, though? Is it because he was the governor of Illinois, the governor of the state that our new president came from? Or is it because of Chicago's history of crooked politicians? Is it the fact that he's a delusional weirdo? Or is it because he's famous for being so unbelievably BAD at what he was supposed to do?

It doesn't really matter, when you put it into perspective. He's famous, rather INfamous, for being himself, and being himself was all he was being when I met him. He was shaking hands, getting introductions, and taking photos with perfect strangers. He was OWNING it, whatever "it" might be.

I suppose that's what it means to be a celebrity -- taking what comes, and taking it all.

The Architect and The Urchin

whoa. again, an amazing experience. i want to regale tales of triumph and disaster, because both occurred amidst this game, but i fear i'm a bit of a mess right now. my limbs don't want to work the way they should, possibly because i used them faaaar too much during the event.

i want to talk about how i hopped my first fence. and how i ran like a lunatic. and how i jogged for close to 3 miles, and trekked for 7. there was a cardboard gondola and a new friend. there were awards. the whole experience, was more invigorating than i can write. i would have to use an exclamation mark to punctuate every sentence, and everyone know how annoying that is!

i loved every second of it.

it was different enough from "Journey" but similar enough to have a base to use for plotting out the route, the sacrifices, and everything else.

my EVERYTHING hurts right now. my body grew new muscles, specifically to hurt. but i feel great, and i can't stress that part enough. there is nothing quite like participating in something community-based that is strictly entertainment.

the games we play

i played journey to the end of the night. i will play the architect and the urchin. i played freeze tag, hide and seek and sardines last night.

it was a hoot.

i can't believe people do this kinda thing.

how was i not informed earlier? why aren't you doing this?

i hid in the onion patch in the middle of the Art Institute's garden. Trust me, it's waaaaay more fun than it sounds.

Good Day Thwarted by CTA

In a hopeful attempt to finish out her 12-hour school day on a high note, Shama Dardai, boards the CTA train at the Kimball stop at approximately 9:30p, expecting to reach her home, in Lincoln Square, by 10p. She reclines in the well-maintained train car with her fellow passengers and pulls out her homework, calmly awaiting the announcement for the southbound train.

20 minutes later, she is still waiting.

Just as she is about to stand up in the indignant, "When is this train gonna move?" manner, the doors shut, and the recorded announcement was heard. She settles back in for a minute, as the train moves along the track at a leisurely, if not slightly slow pace. She reflects on her day, noting with satisfaction that it has been good -- tiring, but good. Then the train stops.

It lurches forward, struggling to reach the next stop, inches away, as a drowning man might stretch for solid land.

10 minutes later...

The passengers have grown weary of the slow train, but Dardai has grown restless. She paces the length of the train car, randomly kicking her backpack every few moments. She sits down again, and waits. And waits. And waits.

5 stops and 45 minutes later, she sits at her computer, cursing the CTA for stealing her time.

looptopia and other things that don't work

it was not so good, last year. it was cold and there were too many lines. this year it's raining. but it's relatively warm. such is life.

i am soaked to the bone. these storms have got to stop. they're infringing on my plans. i did get to see some fire dancers, but only because i thought the scene would be warm. ha.

looptopia is such a great idea, but the past few years have been a bit of a disappointment.

LATER:

hm. i was at looptopia from about 6p to 9p. i got rained on. a lot. i didn't mind that much, but i decided that the events i wanted to see weren't going to happen, so i went home. i did. i went home. i showered myself back to warmth, changed, then got a surprise visit from a friend.

we hung out at my place for a short while, then one of us said, "Wanna go back to Looptopia?"

so, we went. it must have been midnight or so, but hey, the event was supposed to go on ALL NIGHT. yeah, right. it would only go on all night for those who had purchased wristbands, which they ran out of by 10p. boo. i understand the need for crowd control, but to run out of 'admits' by 10p? that was just poor planning.

maybe next year will be better, but i'm skeptical.

CG0h, my muscles hurt.

I'd rather DO stuff than HAVE stuff. that's no secret. the stuff that i DO is fun, usually inexpensive and totally worthwhile. i did a bunch of that stuff this weekend.

i WANT some aspirin and a heating blanket. i am so sore from the stuff that i did. it's a good feeling, unless if i catch a glimpse of my reflection. i look like quasimodo, hunched over, my face screwed up in a grimace. yeesh. i'm pretty sure that my body grew more muscles specifically to be SORE.

"Journey To The End of The Night" was amazing. it was more than i expected and more fun than i thought possible. i discovered that i'm terribly out of shape and cannot hop a fence anymore. i used to be pretty good at it. not anymore. sigh. ah, well.

the 'race' began in Wicker Park at 7p and took the players all around the city. i lost my team before the first checkpoint, but luckily met up with some other folks that didn't seem to mind my inability to hop a fence. they were so cool. we ran through yards, alleys, streets, trainyards, Lower Wacker, downtown... we chatted with strangers, celebrated small victories, high-fived eachother when we made it to checkpoints and ultimately played to WIN.

i have so many stories from the night. i don't think i could write about them properly. i can describe how sore i am, though. running from Wicker Park to the Shedd Aquarium in the course of 5 hours took its toll on my poor body. i hurt. but it's a good kinda hurt. it's the kind of pain that comes with a feeling of achievement, and as far as i can tell, something amazing was achieved tonight. it was a grand social experiment that made me fall in love with Chicago all over again.

Journey To The End of The Night

i'm so freakin' excited about this. it's gonna be awesome.
PRELUDE:
many moons ago, i met a performer by the name of Jason Webley. we struck up a casual acquaintance-ship-- casual, due to the fact that he spends most of his life touring and performing. perhaps i'll write more about him in the future. well, i was on his website one evening when i came across a fantastic oil portrait of him, surrounded by a sky that was raining umbrellas. not only was the image itself interesting and amusing, but it was BEAUTIFUL. i searched for the artist and penned a quick how-do-you-do and appreciative nod for his artwork.

he wrote, "My lady-friend and I are moving to Chicago (from California) in eleven days. Will you be our friend?"

it was one of the most oddly charming emails i had ever received. i accepted the pleasant task. i do so love introducing newcomers to my city. we became moderately friendly and i felt very good about the new residents.

PRESENTLY:
the artist i felt so compelled to contact and praise has decided to introduce "Journey To The End of The Night" to the humble citizens of Chicago. it's a game that is part scavenger-hunt, part race, part game of 'tag' that takes place throughout the city. it is very exciting. this is a game that apparently has been played in several cities around the world, including San Francisco, London and D.C. i'm not entirely sure how to describe it because i have yet to participate, but boy howdy, am i ever excited about it.

i love the idea of a (large) group of complete strangers taking part in an event that requires A) some knowledge of how Chicago is laid out, or at least some enthusiasm to learn about Chicago, B) a certain amount of physical activity. we're only allowed CTA or our legs. seriously. a bike would be great, but it's not allowed. you MUST walk/run/skip to the checkpoints, all the while, you're being 'chased' by a selected team. C) i love that this is an activity that doesn't rely on alcohol in order to socialize. we need more stuff like this.

well, at any rate, i'm excited about this. it's a mystery and a curiosity. i'll be sure to report more on the event after it has taken place, but for now... wheeee! CG0, here i come!

How Sweet it Smells

It is warm today. It is warm and sunny and I feel happy for no reason except that it is warm and sunny. I think the wretched winter is finally over. Young women are wearing flip-flops and sunglasses. Children are running around. Fat men are wearing ugly shorts instead of hideous pants. Please let this be Spring, oh, please please please.

I keep thinking of Spring as a frightened little bunny rabbit. I'll catch a glimpse of it, nibbling at some grass or a bush, we'll make eye contact, then someone will screech, "OH! LOOK! It's SPRING!!!" and the bunny rabbit will scamper away, scared out of its mind.

I hope nobody scares Spring away. The air finally smells good again and my throat doesn't seize up when I breathe in. Chicago is about to get a whole lot more enjoyable.

weather systems

there's always so much to do, so much to think about and so much to explore, i'm beginning to feel exhausted by it all.

i wonder if it might be the weather. i've been through many a bitter chicago winter, always looking forward to wintertime activities, until, that is, i've done them and am left pleading for spring. it's a cycle i've grown familiar with, if not accustomed to. that doesn't mean i like it. i desperately want winter to be over. i want to stop huddling in front of my space heater, wrapped up in twelve layers of clothing, a robe and three blankets. i want to be productive.

but i don't want to be cold.

ice falling and art

I went ice skating at Millenium Park tonight. It was a hoot and sometimes, a slightly painful holler. I try to go ice skating at least once every winter, if only to remind myself how beautiful Chicago is. It worked. Chicago is gorgeous, and in the dead of winter, full of light and mystery.

I had a really wonderful time, trying to ice skate, but found myself referring to the activity as "ice falling". After my friend and I were tired out, we took a short walk up to The Bean and looked at the wall-sized colored ice sculptures that will be taken down very very soon. It was so inspiring to see art that was so simple and well-thought out. It's been a long time since I've been excited about art.

I'm not much of artist, myself, though I've known a good many people who have dedicated their lives to it. Critiquing artwork has been something that I always find myself doing, even though I don't think my opinions on technique are valid. I tend to look at any given piece and wonder about the artist: what they were thinking, what they were trying to achieve, the feelings that they wanted to pull from people who look at their work and whether or not they're satisfied with the finished product. After viewing the ice sculptures at Millenium Park, I felt confident that the artists were pleased with their work, because I was so pleased with seeing it.

They had taken several sheets of ice, painted them, and put them together as a mosaic, or a sort of icy stained glass window. The beauty behind using ice was that when it melted, parts would break off or fall, creating new dimensions and visual centerpieces. It was so transient, I remember thinking, "Just like the city."

I love my city, and even though I don't ice skate so much as I ice fall, I feel connected to the ice sculptures, knowing that they are also ice, falling.

Laws of Probability

i'm not very good at math, but i've been considering this:

Karmic Mass x Velocity of Chance = ?

it equals a giant sinkhole on Montrose Avenue directly in front of the job i just quit, effectively shutting down the business for an undetermined amount of time. i'm happy to know that nobody got hurt and the busted water main is only a major inconvenience rather than a tragedy. i'm also amazed to realize that i would have been out of work at this time, regardless.

i've always believed that if things ever got too bad in my life, i could always look forward to something equally good, basing this belief on probability. a sort of Yin/Yang-convoluted-hopeless-optimism approach, if you will. like i said, i'm no mathematician, and perhaps i have no business trying to make sense out of cosmic forces, let alone break them down in mathematical terms, but what i'm trying to understand is HOW this sort of thing happens.

one of my dearest friends just moved to Chicago (finally) about a week ago. he's a good man. he does good things for people all the time. his karma is damn near the platinum limit. however, he just went through one of the most horrendously unfortunate weeks imaginable. starting with the day he moved in ( -2 degree weather) to his (unfinished) apartment that had no heat. and then the lights went out. powerless (literally), he continued living out his life, without a trace of bitterness. and then his car got towed and impounded. really? honestly, Fate, what did he do to piss you off? well, he nobly went about his life, moving forward with a shrug and a crooked smile. and then, when we all thought the worst was over and he had nothing but good fortune to look forward to, some random drunk totaled his car.

i'm beginning to wonder if it's really all just a crapshoot, and it doesn't matter how good or bad your karma is. either that, or my buddy is about to win the lottery. that'd be awesome.

these boots were made for walking?

My feet are cold and wet, but my ankles are intact. I blame and commend my sneakers for the state my feet are in.

I love my sneakers, I do, but they just don't cut it when it comes to Chicago snow, sleet and slush. After the first snowfall, beautiful as it was, I realized that I needed a pair of boots. Now, here's the problem with women's boots: they are calf-to-knee length, sexy and sleek, but they all have three-inch heels attached to them. Now, where's the sense in that? Am I expected to tromp about on icy sidewalks and slippery train platforms in shoes that may keep my feet warm and dry, but also threaten my life with every step? I beg of you, beloved fashion industry, invent sensible shoes for sensible women. or, at the very least, invent sensible shoes for women who value their life and mobility.

i realize that i've never complained about this issue before, and i also realize that it may be due to the fact that until this winter, i owned a car. last winter, i donated my car to Zipcar, thinking that i was helping to promote car-sharing, helping the environment and being a good citizen of the planet. i wish i'd thought harder about the alternative: walking. walking in dangerous shoes. everywhere.

i miss my car.