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.

in case of emergency

what a fiasco! oy.

after my usual thursday of working at the magazine, going to school and taking my midterms, i offered to drive my friend and a few other guys from Engineers Without Borders to the airport at 2am to catch their flight to Guatemala. we made pretty good time, and everyone seemed really excited about the trip. hell, i was excited FOR them.

after dropping them off and saying our farewells, i made my way out of O'Hare, slowly, due to the snow that had started to fall. then my phone rang.

"Someone forgot their malaria pills."

CRAP. i turned right back around, and picked him up. he was so sweet and apologetic. now, i'm all for over-apologizing when i think i'm putting someone out, but fer cryin' out loud, YOU NEED YOUR MALARIA PILLS.

it was a long night, but i was more than happy to help out. he'd better not have gotten malaria, damnit.

chilled moonshine

I'm not referencing raw alcohol. Even if I had any moonshine, I doubt it would warm up my stiff, cold fingertips. I think I have had moonshine before, and all it did was make me ill. Tonight's lack of moonshine, though, is brought to you courtesy of the last lunar eclipse visible to Chicago until 2010. I was on my way to the Adler Planetarium when I looked skyward and saw it: a pristine white disc, overshadowed by a creeping darkness. It was like watching something from a vampire movie. I must have been standing there for a while, because I started to lose the feeling in my feet and fingers.

I didn't make it to the Planetarium.

I made it as far as the Montrose Brown line stop, and realized that I would end up stuck in a subway during the eclipse, most likely arriving in time to miss the whole thing. So, I just stood there, staring at the sky, letting my limbs go numb. It was great. I wondered who else was watching this phenomenom, how it was happening and what it must look like through a giant telescope, which was my main reason for wanting to go to the Planetarium in the first place.

It's two degrees outside. I gazed at the moon long enough to see it get to a full eclipse. It was a long time to be standing motionless outside, but it was worth it, just to remember what 'wonder' feels like.

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.

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.