A Play

On Friday night I went to see my roommates' play (they operate a theater company along with two other girls). The play was an adaptation of seven Kurt Vonnegut stories from Welcome to the Monkey House. Seeing that I am a Vonnegut fan, I enjoyed the show. The play was held in a building in the Chinatown district of Chicago in this kind of abandoned warehouse looking building.

After the show I was invited to the cast party. Before heading to the party, we stopped by one of the cast member's house. While everyone kind of did their thing, I hung out in the living room on a reclining couch. For the first time in a while I felt really peaceful and completely content with where I was. I don't know if it was the coffee I'd drank at work or the fact that everyone in the cast was so accepting of me but for that five minutes I felt amazing. I know this picture doesn't really convey the sense of peace I'm talking about but I really didn't feel like taking the time to worry about framing and composition.

X'd

This week a girl I work with decided to mark my arm for death with a sharpee. You can faintly see the X near my elbow. It's taken a while to scrub it out obviously. Today my manager approached me in Starbucks and discussed various points of business. After she was done, I started to walk away when she snidely remarked "Do you know you have an X on your elbow?" as if I were blatantly marking myself to look less presentable to serve coffee. I said "Yea" and walked away. My first slight f-you to a manager. She said nothing. I felt greased with power.

Customer quotes of the day (as overheard at Starbucks):
"It sure was a good thing I put my hands in my pockets."
". . .and then I started having my period. Hi." (the hi was because she realized she was next in line and I was waiting for her at the register)

Smoothies

I now split my time at work between a smoothie bar (called Freshens) and Starbucks, both located in the same lobby. They too had the brilliant insight to put hats on their employees. Notice how bloodshot my eyes are. Even they know that I look like a douche wearing a hat.

More on all this later.

Party

On Saturday night I went to a co-workers birthday party. If nothing else, I learned that no birthday party is complete without Sniper vodka in a gun shaped bottle.



At one point I went to the restroom. On top of the toilet was "The Big Book of Love." Seeing that I was slightly intoxicated at the time and feeling good, I thought I'd take a peek. I opened the book right to this little gem, and promptly decided to never read "The Big Book of Love" again.

Trains

My main mode of transportation. I enjoy riding them to work more than driving because I don't have to worry about crashing due to drowsiness. And they give me time to read and relax.



Belmont: "my" stop.



The trains also go underground. I swear.



Some stops become pretty barren late at night. If I were skinnier or had bigger breasts, I would have been carrying a knife. Or talked to myself and cursed at the dark.



A train approaches. After I took this picture, the train operator informed me that I could be arrested for taking pictures at Chicago Transit Authority operated sites without permission. Well now my shit's online. Whachoo gon' do, CTA? Yea.

Hats and.

Starbucks uniform supervisor: "What's the best way to say 'we are the premiere purveyor of upscale coffee and espresso drinks? ' I've got it! Our employees will wear baseball hats! Nothing is better!" Thank you Starbucks for the daily skull raping.



It was a pretty day today. This is my view from behind the counter at the store.

Street Decorations

These are houses in my neighborhood that are all decked out for Halloween. File them under: things that make me happy when walking to work every morning.

Job

The Bank One building. I come here every day to frolic in the fields of gainful employment, not as CEO, CFO, or even a worthy file clerk. . .



. . .but as a smiley-times happy days Starbucks employee! I brandish the sword of the Siren's Eye and slay the dragon of mediocre customer service! I build third homes mighty enough to house the tsars of Russia! I. . .AM. . .BARISTA!



Steamed milk. My Sisyphus rock.

Swiffer

This is Swiffer. She's very frank.



Swiffer is my rommate Kat's cat. Yes, irony.



Swiffer usually vacillates between uncaring bitch and needy psychotic bitch. Here she shows off her uncaring bitch face.



One thing I've learned about Swiffer is that she won't play with her toys with me. Instead she likes to pick on my possessions. For example, this blurred picture is her playing with two magnetic darts stuck together. Her other favorites include a tape measurer and a strip of film.

Da Apt.

The interior of my apartment. I like it. My room is at the very back in that yellow lit area (the kitchen).



This is my room. It's as tiny as it looks. My bed takes up half the space, but it works.

Where I Live

This is the street I live on: Aldine Ave. I really like it. There's a mix of families and younger people, which is cool because it gives it a homey feeling that the dilapadated, drunken Casa Espana of Tucson lacked.



This is my building. My landlord told me it was over 100 years old. Translation: a lot of people have made sex in my bedroom. Some of them are dead.

Preamble

I've never blogged before. There are a couple of blogs that I've watched over the past year, but I never had an interest to start one of my own until now. I didn't really know what I would put on it and was too busy to try. But I'm out of school and have a lot of time on my hands, so I decided to give it a go.

So what I'm going to try to do with this blog is to document my existence in Chicago via pictures and descriptions. I feel like I'm at a very bizarre time in my life where I don't really have clear direction or know exactly what my future will be. As my roommate put it, this is my "quarter-life crisis."

However, I don't want this blog to be a big sappy journal where I cry digital tears of remorse or constantly bitch about how my job sucks and life sucks and everything sucks. Everyone has those problems. If I feel the need to discuss them, then I think I'll talk to an actual person. I just want to record my life. I don't know what purpose it will serve to do this online but maybe I'll find out. I'm hoping my blog will be a way for out-of-state friends to know what's going on in my life. Cause man, calling someone takes a lot of effort.

I guess those are my basic guidelines for this blog. Maybe I'll follow them, maybe not. WE'LL SEE. . .