Anniversary 2

End of year again. 2007. Where did the time go? This has been, by far, the best year of my life. I've had such a great time. And loads of changes. I'm also marking my 2nd anniversary on this blog. And from what I hear blogging is becoming old-fashioned? Well, I guess it has been around for 5-10 years now...I can never keep up with the new electronicky stuff.

Year in Review and all that:

1) Ventured to more concerts than I could handle. And I danced amok at every one of them!

2) Left the country twice (both to London).

3) Met my best friend, Shelley. I love you!

4) Met my beloved, BF. I love you, too!

5) Wandered down to San Diego for a mini-break in the Pacific. Got crispified like bacon. And found my dream house amongst the palms.

6) Experienced my first Burning Man with Bf, Jami, Kristin, Vera, and B. Really life-changing in certain ways! Never been to something like that in my life and I am really happy I got the chance to.

7) Got promoted. With the company that aquired the previous one I was with. I am now head honcho. Just kidding. But someday I might be. If I don't quit and move to Guam to live as a hermit. A place with no phones would be soothing, no?

8) Finally bought my dj gear. I'm practicing. That's about all I can do at this point. Besides spend more money on music...

9) Good friend, Stephanie from Germany, visited Chicago. We have now gotten together on three different continents. I miss you, Stephie!

10) Moved to a lovely flat closer to the city. Very exciting! But it has its ups and downs as I mentioned in my previous post. I don't give a fig. I still adore it!

So yes. 2007. Very Good Year. It is Year of the Pig. And that is what I am. A pig. But I like to think that I am a little more refined than one that resides on a farm. I mean, I would never sleep in a barn.

Happy Bloggy Anniversary to me! Have an excellent 2008! Remember, it's going to be Year of the Rat. If you think Pig was good, what is rat gonna be like? ;-)

Sucker

I know I've expressed Pissed Offeyness galore on this site about commuting in Chicago. In recent months it has gotten better by leaps and bounds due to moving basically downtown. It was easy to walk the 17 blocks to work. But now that winter has become a permanent annoyance it isn't an option at the mo. Brutal Bastard that he is.

So I'm back on the public transport. And have discovered that the nearest train is the most inconvienant subway spot in the city. By the time it reaches me the carriages are crammed to capacity with bulging bodies. Sometimes a leg is caught in the doors as they try to slam shut. I see people straining against each other and trying to maintain some respectability at the same time. Which never happens, by the way. Usually a hand gets pushed onto a boob, or a nose gets stuck in a smelly armpit. Once, I was squeezed up next to a weirdo who kept smiling as my hip thumped against him whilst the train jerked along. Ew.

In the mornings, I'll race along to the subway then wait with heaps of yuppified-to-fuck people in the dingy 1970s rat-infested cave they call a station for a train. One comes. Too many people. 10 out of 150 can get on. Wait again. Another train. Excitement builds as one thinks they might be able to push on (decency is totally abandoned). Nope. Haha, sucker. You suck. Haha, think you live so close to work! Haha, it takes the same amount of time to get there as it did when you lived 45 minutes north. Shove that in your snobby Gold Coast face.

Another train. I AM GETTING ON THIS ONE. It's the 3rd bloody train and I. Am. Getting. On. It. I see a woman lurking near me and I can tell she's going to try to have a go at boarding but she has just arrived and I have been WAITING so she's definitely getting an elbow in the face if she moves in on my turf.

Lights are coming, train is slowing, please let the doors stop in front of me, please, please, I pray. They stop, I walk along an inch or two to be directly in front and then before the sneaky lurker (who is basically kicking the back of my knees in) does anything I launch myself into the sea of people and hope for the best. I close my eyes and grope around for a pole to steady myself. Opening an eye, I see a wall of annoyance and hatred from my fellow commuters. God, we're horrible to each other.

At the next stop, some get off and the rest of us can sort of breathe. Then more and more at the next. This is why my subway location is the absolute worst in the city. Not far enough out to actually get a spot and not south enough for people to have alighted. I feel like a complete sucker.

Pensive

Been feeling a bit heavy this week. I found out some news about my work situation that could be bothersome. And whenever I get bothery and heavisome I break out the Orbital again. I always go back to them when things get rough. Comfort thing, I suppose. Been listening to the brothers for half of my life. Love them to bits.

In the mornings and then later at night I walk the busy city streets with thousands of others. We move as one mass trying to go to different places. I feel lost and separated from my life as I drift along besides strangers who are really no more strange than I am. I listen to Orbital's Belfast in my head as I float along, the melody meshing with my heavy feelings. Like a human paperweight.

On paper, my life is very good at the moment. But inside I am confused. I want to travel again and the corporate life is draining. I feel that life yawning its mouth open to swallow me headfirst. Perhaps I can be satisfied with only 2 weeks of vacation a year? Why do I feel the incessant need to move around the world? Am I never to be content in one place? Perhaps it is the sorry weather that has me in a fog.

The Tree!

Fun stuff

Last weekend was fantastic compared to the previous one. Drunk Santas wandering the street and Jami's "Season's Greetings!" thrust onto unsuspecting shoppers whilst walking Chicago's Magnificent Mile was hilarious. Then the big Birthday Party combined for 3 friends was even more fun.

Oh dear, there was dishevelment. And alcohol. Who I am back on friendly terms with, finally. Drunken hooligans we are. Below is Noel, Bob, Jami, me, Andrea, and one of the birthday boys, Jake:

Size doesn't matter

It's that time of year again. Holidays and all that. Last night the bf and I went to pick a tree out for our flat. It is my first tree in something like 7 years and I'm not gonna lie: I'm excited. Pretty, twinkly, multi-coloured lights with little bobs of ornaments dabbed here and there over the fake pine makes me get the warm and fuzzies.

Yeah, our tree is fake. And as a person who has grown up always with fake trees (crammed in the basement for 11 months), that doesn't bother me. No, it really doesn't. I've convinced myself that I am probably allergic to pine anyway so it is really all okay. Plus, I don't like stuff that dies.

So picking out the tree.

"Which one do we want?" I ask the bf.

"Something cheap." He says.

"You skinflint."

"What's that mean?" I forget he doesn't know British slang.

"You're a cheap-o."

"Yeah, whatever. What about this one?" He points to a nice 4.5 foot fur-type tree and I agree, yes, it really is a doll and I'd take that baby home in a heartbeat. I'm looking, looking, looking all around the mini-in-store-forest of trees for number 14. Under benches and through the branches to different shelves. It's definitely MIA.

"I think it's sold out." I say to the bf who is almost on all fours and under a shelf.

"Probably." He gets up and asks, "What else?" So we give up on the Dream Tree and start browsing other alternatives.

A mediocre 3 footer is in my sight with multi-coloured lights already on it. Our flat isn't massive and this would go in our space nicely. But the bf had his sights on the 6.5 bad boy.

"Look," He drools, "it's cheap. And it's big!" He's just standing there with his mouth open a bit in admiration.

"Uh-huh. So where is one we can take home?" Me. The Voice of Reason. It wasn't there. All the good ones had been taken home already. I mean, we were late, it being the 4th of December already...

The shrimpy 3 footer was decided upon after like an hour. When we got it home, it actually was very beautiful and perfect. It is smaller than we originally wanted but it so doesn't matter. I'm in love with my little tree. She's a cute one. I'm thinking of taking her out for dinner and a movie I love her so much. She's not big on the conversation bit but I can look past that. Details. Pfft.

Dreaming

Lately I have been having odd dreams. Most people don't like it when others talk about their dreams because they are abstract and no one understands them. I can see that. But c'mon, they can be so silly, nice, or weird that you gotta tell someone.

Such as the happy one where I give up having to work and become a freelance writer, travelling the world at a happy pace and living off my advances and royalties (Actually, that is a dream I have when I'm awake so it probably doesn't count). Very yummy. Or the really scary one of holding a massive Chicago skyscraper up with my hands and then letting it crash to the ground because I caught a glimpse of shiny red shoes at the Gucci shop across the street.

Last night I was sitting on an iceberg in the middle of the Arctic Ocean or Somewhere Else that has icebergs. And I was wondering how the hell I was going to get off the thing when all of a sudden I'm at a carnival in Brazil shaking my gonzagas and doing the chacha with an 8 foot gorilla. Then a high school chum I haven't seen in yonks throws a cream pie in my face and I roll down a hill into an airplane that's been hijacked and I'm going down! Down, I tell you! But just as I'm about to hit the water and die a disasterous and water-logged death I wake up and realize that I'm in bed and it is only 4am.

So, yes, those are the types of dreams I've been having lately. If they aren't somehow apocalyptic they are dancing with gorillas and travel. It's a crazy dream world I live in. They keep me entertained but christ, are they odd...gorillas indeed.