There comes a time in everyone’s life where they chase a pathetic dream. I wrote a lot of jokes in journals and took classes at the iO because I thought I was cut out to make the masses roll over in laughter pains. And they did roll over in pains on occasion; physical, very serious pains that lead to bleeding from the mouth, sexual dysfunction, and headachenasueadiarrhea. (<— see what I mean?)
I still try to keep up with those journals of jokes, even though 99% of them are no longer relevant.
My point here is that I think I’m doing stand up for the first time tomorrow. I might stick my finger in the dictionary for a word, buy a newspaper in the morning, develop a character version of me in the next 24 hours and just fucking do it.
Putting this information in my pipe and smoking it.
Summer is absolutely winding down in Chicago. Okay, it’s not like summer actually came to Chicago at all this year. Yeah, yeah it gets on your nerves that everyone blogs or reacts to the end of a season… but the “8-month winter” thing? That’s a Chicago FACT.
My stuff goes home on August 30th. I don’t know when my person goes home. The plan, for sure, is that I move in with Brian. We schmooze around town with poor Truman the Beagle in tow, and I hang out at his house and read. I’m already set to make at least $600 next month between babysitting, marketing research shenanigans and a three-day position at DePaul University.
Once I get my deposit back, I’ve already got a savings. No rent + untaxed income + an invitation to stay in Illinois for as long as I please? Why head back to Massachusetts so soon? I may stay as long as I’m making money.
An aside, how the hell am I going to fare without Brian?
A breeze was blowing through my apartment today after I came home from depositing my sister and mother at Midway. A breeze through my flat? That’s about as rare around here as the smell of homecooked meals.
I wanted to eat the crisp smell. It was mostly the crisp aroma of (the clean area of) Lake Michigan, combined with a distant BBQ, leaves, dirt, and pure nothingness.
I’d had a weird day up to that point. From a barstool at Peet’s Coffee & Tea, I’d talked to a couple of weirdos renting rooms out in Amherst… one woman insisted I NEVER use the kitchen (what??), another couple sounded like they practically wanted a photo to see if it’d be worthwhile to invite me to a cozy menage a trois. *Shudder*
Before that, I’d been at Best Buy browsing the miniature laptops. Every associate needed to remind me a thousand times they didn’t get commission. Ay, ay, ay….
The bad taste in my mouth was intense. No, I really had a bad taste in my mouth. Mocha latte, worry, and cefuroxime antibiotic (damn 20-day prescription for strep).
Thank you, breeze, for being there to come home to.