annual windy visit

__2004-12-21 @ 2:11 p.m._______ In Chicago now. I’m like a vagabond- I don’t live anywhere and I just wander the neighborhoods here, riding the trains and finding coffee shops to stop and try to communicate with friends before they get off from work. I’ve been spending most of my coffee shop hunt near my vehicle, which is parked in a great spot in Wicker Park. So that’s where I’ve been a bum for the last couple of days. I have to say that while the “L” is cheaper (flat fee for the ride) than the BART, it’s not nearly as nice and today there were three smelly, absolutely disgusting people sleeping/riding/fumbling around in the car I rode today that all persistently asked for change. I know it happens everywhere, but it just left a bad impression on me today. Then again, maybe the BART is just too expensive for bums and homeless people to ride. Plus, you have the whole difference in weather and all. “Is it cold enough for ya?”-Hi JP! I have this habit(?) of making long visits here during the winter- which makes absolutely no sense. I hate the winter weather in the city, but this visit has been cheerful and is making me realize exactly what I was hoping to realize. I have lots of alone time, but not much of it is wasted. Then, there’s all the strange shit that’s already happened since I’ve been back. And even outside of THAT shit there’s all this stress of running into people unexpectedly. Call me grumpy, but I’m not really all that excited about running into someone from Iowa City or Ottawa right now if we’re gonna have to do the whole small talk-catch up thing- good friends- good…would love to catch up. Distant acquaintance that I haven’t seen in years- yeah, let’s save this bullshit for when we’re both drunk in a bar somewhere. I have way too many problems to get into right now and you don’t know it, but you really don’t want to hear about ‘em either. But I don’t want to act like I’m in a pissy mood here. I’m having fun and getting this alone time is acting as a perfect sanctuary. I’m rereading This Boy’s Life and I think I like it better the second time. Someone recently found it necessary to tell me that I “don’t read,” half joking/half serious. I guess in some ways, I take that as an insult- mainly because of the way they said it. But before these past couple of years, it was a fair criticism. So on that note, email me suggestions of good reads, if you feel inclined. One more thing. I’m getting together the annual music lists, so for those of you checking this thing, let the anticipation begin! Woohoo! << | >>