Well I guess this is growing up...

Well, where to begin. So much has happened since I began slacking on my blog game.

Hmm, well, last week I turned 24. While many would scoff at the idea of feeling "old" at 24, bear with me for a precious few seconds. Its the first birthday where Ive sort of felt like I was stepping off the high dive into the murky waters of adulthood. My 23rd birthday was the cusp of moving to Chicago and other "adult" activities/landmarks, but I was still just 2 months removed from college graduation and still living at home, sorting out the job situation. Now I mean, 24 is almost halfway through this little 20s phase in my life, and while I still realized I'm "young" per se, there is still that feeling. On the flip side, thats one of my favorite things about being in the "real world" and such. Seeing as I took a satisfying 5 years to explore my way through college, by the time I graduated, I was somewhat of the "elder" statesmen. And I can tell you, that was foreign and quite odd. Being a summer birthday, I was always the youngest in my grade. On my dad's side, I had a bunch of older cousins. I liked being young. Felt like I had potential, tons of stuff ahead of me. Being the older one was odd. I was the oldest of the 4 kids in my family, that was enough. Now being the ripe old age of 24, I feel "old-ish" yet I am constantly reminded by co-workers, family members, and other people I run into, how young I am. Thats nice, suddenly I don't feel all old again. Im the young Turk with hopes and dreams and limitless horizon, hurrah!

So this past week I was in NYC. 2 summers ago, I interned on Long Island. Since my Dad is in the diamond business, his company naturally does ridiculous amounts of work in NYC. Thus, they have an apartment as it ends up being more cost effective than getting a hotel each time. So I had the priviledge of spending most of my weekends in Manhattan. However, I hadn't been back since that summer, so I was pretty stoked to return. My first thoughts were of the variety that I often had when I was there 2 years ago. For such a dynamic, enormous, seemingly impersonal city...sometimes it feels unchanged and oh so familiar. I was there for 30 min and felt like I never left. I saw the same dogs that I'd seen, stuff smelled the same, it was just kind of surreal. Maybe it was because I essentially lived there for 3 months. That also made it cool because I felt no need to specifically DO anything. I didn't need to see tourist attractions or get a ton of activities accomplished. I could just enjoy the city...and drink my face off. The whole bars are open till 4 is just awesome. Its not like Chicago where there are "late-night" bars that are open till 4. I mean, everything is open till 4 so it doesnt make it feel like you were out till some ungodly hour like it does when it get after in the Windy City. For that, I thank you New York. But it also makes me realize a pet peeve of mine: when people compare Chicago and New York. You just can't. There are pluses and minuses to both, but its apples to oranges. New York is a metropolis that you don't find anywhere else in the country, whereas Chicago is a big city. While there are similarities, the differences just make it non comparable. Maybe its just my completely separate love for both cities, idk, I just hate when people like to bash Chicago for the simple reason that its not NYC.

In my ongoing commentary about the CTA, the trip to the Big Apple did bring to light one difference. The Subway utterly kicks the EL's ass. Yes its dirty and mostly underground so its hot as hell and smells funky, but the trains are so much more efficient and on time and you normally don't have some ridiculous walk because the train routes are pretty narrow. I actually find it fast to take the subway at times to certain "far" places in Manhattan as opposed to taking a cab. Thats almost never true in Chicago.

Speaking of cabs, I always complain about Chicago cabs being sheisty and overpriced compared to NYC cabs. Well, my lauding of NYC cabs obviously came around to bite me this trip as I had the worst experiences ever. My cab from the airport tried to charge me $5 more plus a toll I didn't authorize. I had a cab that picked such a purposefully terrible route to get a higher fare as we sat in traffic that I got out and went to the nearest subway. And then my final cab back to the airport, the cabbie picked me up in the middle of Manhattan and then drove all the way to the west side in the complete opposite direction of the airport to "get a better route." No, fuck you sir! I will not authorize this charge of an extra 5 bucks as you drive me on some damn sightseeing tour of the Westside Highway. I definitely spent 10-15 min arguing with cabbies this weekend, which I didn't plan on. Thankfully, I seem to be quite intimidating, or just correct, thus I won everytime. I should be a cab negociator. I bet there is a market for that.

Just as I was thinking maybe I should just start trying to ride buses, the CTA bus system gently took me aside...and punched me right in the face. I get back to O'Hare around 6:15 and land at the brand new runway...which happens to be somewhere in Iowa. So after taxing for about 3 hours, we finally arrive at the gate and I trek over to the Blue Line station. After riding the crusty Blue Line for a good 40 min to the Division stop, I rise up from underground looking forward to getting quickly onto the Division bus and getting home to eat. However, as I stand at the stop, I look westward on Division for the bus and see nothing but tumbleweeds, a distant oasis, and some hipsters wearing flannel and black jeans though its 80 degrees out. So I figure I'll save some time and walk east a bit to the next stop as I wait for the bus to arrive. Well I start walking...and walking...and walking. I walked until a bus finally passed me and I got on...a block and a half from my intersection. As you can see by this excellent map, I treked across half of Chicago. CTA...can suck it. Not to mention, I was walking through an area that I later, when speaking to my mother, referred to as "the land Chicago forgot". There was no sign of life. Im pretty sure animals and bugs avoided this industrial wasteland as even they can't subsist on garbage, rusted metal and used condoms. Despite the fact that I could see the Chicago skyline nearby, I could of swore I was meadering through bombed out Sarajevo. So thank you CTA for having horrible bus schedules on Sunday's around 7 PM allowing me to work up a horrendous sweat while dragging luggage around urban hell.

On a positive note, Sherwood-For the Longest Time is a splendid song. It sounds like pop-punk mixed with the Beach Boys. Oddly enough, it works...and works so well. Ive found myself listening to it around 8 times per workday. And normally that dries songs out like a salted slug, but this stays fresh like a sealed bag of marshmellows. The rest of their catalog is pretty solid. Not as splendid, but definitely worth listening to. Yeah, I think I'm going to go listen to it again...

"Cause in the longest line, The front and the back are the same sometimes..."

JW

Is this hotel pager friendly?

So last week, I came to the realization that for some reason, when it comes to the homeless, people needing random strangers, people selling random nonsense, I have a giant "I am kind and tolerating of your approach" bullseye on my face. But the thing is, I am not that individual. I have a certain inherent sadness and pity for the homeless, but seeing as I am currently not flush with monies and I value my quarters for the 25c vending and soda machines at work. Thus I cannot contribute to their malt liquor and cheeseburger fund.

Anyways, last Monday, I had no less than 6-8 specific direct approaches towards me, exempting all others around me. When I left my office to take a lunchtime walk, I passed a homeless man who I politely apologized to when he asked me for change. This prompted him to say "Come on man, I can tell you have money on you!" What? Seriously? How did he spot me out in a downtown crowd to accuse of holding back change?! And mind you, I have no dress code at work, so I was rocking a t-shirt, looking positively average. I left my Armani suit and Prada shoes home that day. Well anyways, mildly peturbed, I continue deeper into down coming to a fairly busy corner at Randolph and LaSalle. There a youngish blond girl was excitedly waving to someone. I kind of glanced behind me assuming she saw a friend. Then I realized she was motioning to me. Quickly ascertaining I had no clue who this chica was and noticing she had a clipboard, I shifted to thoughts of "You're kidding me, why me again?"

Girl: "Hey there."
Me: *placating half-smile*
Girl: "How old are you?!"
Me: "Not old enough, sorry."
Girl: "Just come over here!"
Me: "Thats not gonna happen."

I am rarely that brisk, normally giving a smile and a no thank you. But by this point, I'm getting peeved. I understand those people have a job to do (as do the homeless I guess), I was in sales once, I don't derive pleasure from blowing these people off. Yet I keep getting into these situations, and clearly I am going to deny them, so my patience is tested.

Later that night, I go to the Taste of Chicago with some friends. No sooner do I tell them about my unfortunate occurances, which naturally they found humorous (cause if it wasn't me it would be), then I am approached by a gentleman who asks me if I have any extra tickets. Now at the Taste, you buy 12 tickets for $8 and those tickets are your currency to purchase food. 4 tickets gets you some gazpacho and 6 gets you some goat meat with special rice from a Caribbean stand, etc... Well, I politely tell him no as I have not even gotten food yet while also ponder that its a pretty good gig for a homeless dude, or even someone who just feels like mooching some free food. Stand by the exit and pick off some leftover tix. Well over the next hour, I am approached directly, but not my friends, by 3-4 different people within the festival asking for my tix. This included a woman who got about 6 in from my face asking me "Are you using those tickets?" when I had about 8 in my hand. Of course I am, its not like I have 1 or 2. I didn't buy these just to make it rain on you and your friends like dollar bills at Scores. Yes, this woman was in a group of people, so its not like she was just hungry. She was there with a group of people and looking to scrounge up some free morsels...cheap skank. The most disturbing of these was a middle-aged gentleman kind of wandering around a center area awkwardly asking passers-by for tickets. He was wearing khakis and a horrendous button-down, but gave no impression of being impoverished. He was carrying a briefcase and just really acting in an odd fashion. I have no clue what was going on there, but of course he approached me and I chalked it up to the lunacy of my day.

So thinking the schenanigans were over, we left the Taste for the Red Line to travel home. Well as the 3 of us approach the train station, two, umm, urban youths sitting next to the entrance immediately hop up and make a beeline for us. Well, the one did. And by us, I mean...of course, me. Extending his hand, he offers "Hey man, hold up, let me talk to you for a minute." FML...No good can come of this situation, no matter how innocuous, so I just tell him sorry and that I have to catch my train. I am immediately peppered with insults.

"You didn't have to be rude man."
"Cheap ass motherfucker."
"Wearing that blue shirt you fucking faggot."

Just awesome, what a picture perfect ending to a picture perfect day. So all of you out there who are either looking for change, bus fare, donations...please leave me along for like 6 months and then I will have regained my patience and my monetary backing. Then I will be glad to entertain your spiel. Until then, please tell me what I can do facially to convey my lack of desire to hook you up. Thanks.

So other randomness:

-This song is currently my jam and I don't care what sort of social reprecussions it has. I think its baller and I am unashamed of my enjoyment of it.

-"I'm 'a go where I always go; Drinks are on the house,
Whiskey's on the rocks while your sister's on my mouth"
That is my favorite lyric of the moment, it has no deep meaning. Its just stuck in my hand and its pretty happily staying there.

-Frasier is a hilarious show that I don't think my demographic properly appreciates.

-A full year out of college, I have just finally started to master the puke and rally.

-I love Orbit's Sangria Fresca gum. Its delicious.


So on a monthly basis, I choose one of my favorite bands to just listen to repeatedly. I put their cd's in my work playlists in addition to whatever I'm feeling. This month its the Academy Is... Yet another band I started listening to in HS that suddenly appeared everywhere and then by the time I graduated college, on every teen playlist. But I still love this band. They do pop-punk as well as anyone. Their newest cd, Fast Times at Barrington High, pretty solid. Nothing like their debut, but a solid cd nonetheless. Listen to One More Weekend and thank me later. Attention, Same Blood, Almost Here, and Neighbors are also all worth spinning and getting an idea how baller they are.

"You'll go off, you'll forget, you'll grow out of hanging from the edges, breaking off the past..."

JW