Pride Pride Pride...

We went. We thought we saw all of the parade. We ate. We realized the parade wasn't over. We wandered. We left.

A friend of a friend got in a fistfight with a not-so-nice lesbian that was standing near us. Granted, he was drunk and obnoxious and antagonistic. He deserved to be headlocked and body punched repeatedly. He probably deserved to be led away by the police, which he was. And he probably deserved to be told off at dinner for being a perfect ass. Being. Not having. Read carefully, folks.

We tried to get there an hour early, but...we were thwarted, somehow. We got stuck in a time warp that had us crammed into a an el train with no room to jump to the left OR step to the right. And forget putting your hands on your hips. And then...crowds. Crowds. Crowds.

I still don't know what happened with the two hour cushion we built in to our travel. It's been three years since we've been subjected to the huge, crazy crowds. Usually we get a spot near the barricades an hour early and get to ignore the crowds. This year? we got stuck between a large black woman with her children and the tallest Asian man that God ever made. Not to mention the glitter-throwing kids behind us...there's still glitter in the carpet at home.

But honestly, Robb and I had a good time hanging out, meeting people, talking. Dan's a wonderful conversationalist and a great friend. I only wish he wasn't three hours (four with creative detouring) away. And now I have some new book and music recommendations to look into. What more could you ask for from a weekend? Sun, parade, laughs, music, books...what more is there?

Oh...this: It's not Katy Perry's "Firework" anymore.

"Baby you're a dinosaur,
Come on let me hear you roar..."

What a fun weekend!

Out

SUSHI!

It's like a taste sensation...like a trip around the world in first class with people you love the most! It's like...oh my gosh. It's so friggin' good!

The texture made me want to just keep eating them over and over. Eww...that just grossed me out. I meant one right after the next. It's like...the perfect firmness and the perfect give, a little crunch, and a ton of flavor.

I got spicy crunchy tuna rolls, and our friends got snow crab rolls. Both were absolutely divine. The spicy mayo on our sushi was the perfect amount of spice, and the wasabi? Oh man...I could just EAT that stuff. Yum.

Needless to say, I was a happy camper. Happiest. Camper. EVER.

Out

CAD

Our bank abbreviates everything, apparently.  So everyone was talking about CAD.  And I was like, "Computer Aided Drafting?"

No, no, no.

Customer Appreciation Day!  It's the second Friday of each month, and we provide breakfast, lunch, and a snack in the afternoon.  It's apparently quite a spread! 

They keep telling me how well this bank feeds its employees (and customers)...it sounds too good to be true!  Anywho, I'm skipping breakfast at home in favor of having something there.  Oh, and I get to attend my first sales meeting today...sort of as a fly on the wall, just to see how it works. 

So it should be interesting...and tonight?  I'm going to see Andy Davis with my friend Sabrina on her birthday!  We try to see him every time he comes to Chicago.  Check him out:



He's awesome...and kind of hot.

Out

Weekend...What?

So...Friday I did this puzzle of my favorite city:



God, you can really see my OCD nature.  My phone is lined up exactly with the edge of the puzzle.  The coaster is lined up perfectly with that, and the box is lined up with the edge of the puzzle, too.  Oh, man...I'm bad about that...

...and then Robb and I went out with friends to Boystown, where we hit up Roscoe's, our favorite bar up there.  It's really the only one I've been in where I've felt completely comfortable.  I'm not really a bar kind of guy, honestly, so I was dreading going just a little bit.  But oh my gosh, we had a great time, despite some awkwardness.

See, I ran into my ex there.  Steve.  We broke up over 4 years ago after dating for 2 months.  It was mostly because he didn't pay me enough attention and also because he lived in the city and I was moving back to E-town with my folks.  So...not worth the drive, really.  But yeah...we were sitting in one of the lounges chatting with our friends Jim and Mike and Randle, and this guy walks in and turns away to go out on the dance floor.  I turned to Robb and I said, "Er...I think that might have been my ex."

So I texted him, because we're not on bad terms, and sure enough, it was him.  He hasn't changed a bit.  We chatted, caught up, he met Robb, showed everyone a photo of his giant...well...anyhow...he had it on his cell phone.  Awkward.  But it was nice to see him.  He's still as socially awkward as when I met him.

Right around that time, one of Robb's co-workers showed up with his date who looked really familiar.  Still not sure why.  But it was nice finally meeting this person who I've heard so much about.  Hopefully we'll get to hang out with them again soon.  They're good people.

Oh, and this guy who worked there, who I thought was really cute with his red hair and stubble (I'm a sucker for red hair), came up to me a few times to collect our empty glasses, and he says to me once, "I like your glasses.  Are they Prada?"  I told him, "No.  Actually they're Randy Jackson."  He made this really hilarious face, like, eww.  And he says, "Oh, well they look like Prada."  Umm...thanks!  Hooray for compliments from strange and cute boys...

Anywho, that was Friday night.  Saturday was the collage party for Script Frenzy.

We met at the Library, Ho:



It's pretty much that ghetto. 

But the writing center is gorgeously painted!



So, we baked for 4 hours in the heat, but we made a lot of progress!  I've got an idea now, that I'm sure I'll talk about later.  I came home and Robb and I got custard, and then I came home and took a nap, since I'd been out until 3 AM the night before.  I missed hanging out with my friend Paul.  Whoops.  I slept until 8 PM, then grogged about, watched Airplane, and went to bed.

Sunday morning we went to church:



And after lunch at home, we took a walk, where we ran into THIS:



Yes.  That's a raccoon on a leash.  It was so cool!  The guy said he got it at a breeder's in Indiana (where "they'll breed anything, those crazy fuckers.")  His name was Miko, and apparently he's a chick magnet.  Well, he certainly attracted the gays, too.  Or maybe the guy who it belonged to had something to do with that...



Oh, yes.  He was pretty, with sweet blue eyes and a good smile.  And a raccoon!  A RACCOON, Y'ALL!  I pet a raccoon.  How strange.

So, altogether a strange and wonderful weekend.  I hope yours was even half as good!

Out

It was the most gorgeous day yesterday.  And today?  It's supposed to be EVEN NICER!  So, as I've been itching to do since fall, I hopped on my bike and cruised through town.  Oh my gosh, it was lovely!  I happened upon some new graffiti on the trail, and it made me wonder if it was put there in the fall or winter or just recently, although it looks like someone tried to paint over it unsuccessfully a while ago, so my money is on fall.  Anywho:



"How many have to die?  STOP THIS WAR"

And about three feet down was this:



"Free Tibet."  Good advice.  I think I'll put it on my to-do list for the day.

And, close to my own heart, someone did this:



A cute little bird...oh, and my shadow.  You can't see it there, but the wind was doing tragic things to my WAY-TOO-LONG hair.  It was a wreck.

But I had this little gem to remind me that it didn't matter:





It says, "Whatever you are, it's beautiful."  I'm just glad they got the punctuation correct.

And then I headed past the old train depot,



And into the college multi-family homes area, the older section of town.  While I was riding I noticed this building that I've never seen before, despite living in this area my whole life:



It looks like an old school or a hospital, but it was completely empty with "No Trespassing" signs all over it.  How strange that it's not in use AND that I'd never seen it before...And here DeKalb is in an uproar about building a new school...they're not even using this one!

But I continued, on a beeline for where the Water Guy works.



I took no photos of his place of employment because I didn't want to seem like a creeper, but mostly because I already have some.  So you get this church steeple and this odd house:



I love that neon lime door.  How cute!

I'd never really been in this area, so I rode around for a while, taking some photos.  This house was all decked out for Spring, and I wondered if it always looked like that:



Cute. 

I was exhausted, though, and I had decided that I needed a hair cut.  Badly.  So, I rode home, past an inadvertently funny sign that's in a neighbor's lawn.  There's a back story here.  The county is discussing building a huge landfill somewhere in the vicinity.  So people are sort of in an uproar over it.  Signs have popped up all over in the lawns of people who oppose it, and this is what they say:



Yeah...it kind of makes me want to take a giant steaming dump in their front lawn.  Not gonna lie.  I snicker every time I see one.  And then I crave chicken and dumplings, because what's the opposite of a mega dump?  A dumpling!  I'll be here all week.

Onto the hair cut.  Here's my truly atrocious before photo:



I look wasted, and sort of stoned.  I was neither.

And after?



Much better!  I got so many compliments on the beard at church last night...it's a little overwhelming.  So...there.  Welcome to my day yesterday.  What you didn't see?  Three hours of Final Fantasy II, and me dancing along to Adam Lambert in my car.  That's about it.

I hope you take some time to get outside and enjoy the weather, if it is, indeed, nice today.  My old college friend Derek (derektb) is coming out here in the afternoon and we're going to drive to our old Alma Mater with the windows down and the music on and then meet some people for dinner later.  It'll be a hoot.

Out

The More you Know...

When I was younger, my friend Brian and I used to hang out quite a bit. Our houses were relatively close to one another, but mostly we both just wanted someone to hang out with because we lived in the country. He was the funny, goofy kid with red hair and freckles that had rich parents and cool stuff. We used to play on his computer, and his taste in computer games has stuck with me to this day. I still get a kick out of killing an afternoon playing Space Quest or Shadows of Darkness.

I used to sleep over at his house, where we would stay up until all hours of the night writing stories or making swords out of wood. We would choreograph elaborate sword fights set to music and not sleep all night. I remember one night we even wrote the next game in the Final Fantasy series, convinced that the publishers would buy it from us without any doubt. It was a pretty good story, actually. But...

He used to come over to my house and play games with my brother and I. And my brother, once upon a time, was a pot head. We got new neighbors in the house right next door (the only house around), and they brought with them from the wreckage of their burned down house bad influences...and a Playstation. I used to play Playstation at their house while my brother and his new neighbor/friend Jason went off to smoke pot.

Well, often times Brian would come over under the guise of hanging out, only to go off with my brother and Jason to smoke pot with them. I'm mostly convinced it was because he thought they were so cool, and he wanted to be cool, too. I never wanted to be cool that badly.

We continued to hang out at each others' houses, but when I went to his house I mostly wanted to hang out with his little brother Robbie, because he was just like Brian used to be. You see, Brian stopped being fun. All he cared about was when he would get to smoke pot next. He started hanging out with the deadbeats in our class, and I felt more and more like the nerd that was, once again, being left behind for something cool.

I remember the last time I spent any time with him. His parents were throwing a huge 4th of July party. I went, because my parents were invited. I didn't really want to be there. I was sort of over Brian. When I got there he was nowhere to be found. His mother told me he was with his friends up in the barn.

The barn used to be that place where we'd swordfight and build forts and start fires and break stuff. It was a giant, endless playground where we could do basically whatever we wanted and not get in trouble for it. It was our space.

Well, I went into the barn, calling Brian's name. His coughing response came from upstairs. He was in our fort with a bunch of kids from school I didn't really like. I didn't go in, but chose to talk to him from the ladder. All I saw of him that night was the intermittent flickering of a lighter put to a bowl. After turning down an invitation to join them, I went to find my parents and told them I was leaving.

I never really saw Brian after that. He joined the Army, lied about his skill level, and then got kicked out for doing drugs. Last I heard he was cleaning grease traps or sewer lines or something.

I still miss him from time to time, especially when I'm driving by his road, all alone, in the country.

Out

An Open Letter To My Friends...

Dear friends,

I've been debating about whether or not to write this since about a week before Robb's surprise party. This is something I'd like to talk about with each of you in person, but the chances of that are slim. So, I'm just going to put this out there to get it off my chest.

I must have sent out thirty invites to his surprise 30th birthday party. And do you know how many of my friends came? Zero. His friends were all there, but not one of mine would come. "It's too far," they said. "We don't know where it is," they said.

Not "Can we have directions?" Not "Hey, other friend, wanna carpool?"

And I know some of my friends had valid reasons, and this is not for them.

Robb wasn't that disappointed (at least on the surface), but I was. I don't think they know what he does for them. When they have parties, he always insists on making something for them. I would rather just bring chips or something like potato salad from a store, because I know that's about how appreciated they'll be. But HE insists on going that extra mile.

Not to mention the fact that for years I used to drive 45 minutes EACH WAY once a week to see them. And my friends can't be bothered to drive an hour ONCE to support my boyfriend and me. And I think that sucks.

A lot.

So, thanks for letting me down, guys. I really appreciate that. It looked really good when he walks in to a surprise party and HALF the guests were there, NONE of them being my half of the friends. It goes to show you how much you all care about us and how much you appreciate all he does for you.

I wouldn't expect too much in the future from either of us.

Out

Behind the Lens...

It's a little bit funny.

I was looking through photos the other day, and I was astounded by the number of photos I had taken of myself in a "Myspace" sort of way: extended arm, no smile, cute hair...you know the drill. And I thought to myself, "When did I become this person?"

And then I realized something. They are the only photos of me I have. Where are the photos of me with my friends? Where are the shots taken on vacation of me in front of the Grand Canyon or me hanging out the window of a car? I have tons of photos like these:



The MySpace shot, and...



The mirror shot.

And tons of photos like these:



Photos where my whole family (sister, stepdad, mom, brother, sister-in-law) went to do something, and I am mysteriously absent, and...



...photos like these where we did something amazing and odd in college (like play music in the elevator for three hours, making up songs the whole time) and I am not recorded.

And I realized that I am missing out, being the one behind the lens the whole time. I am strikingly absent from all of the records of my favorite memories. When I am old, no one will believe I ever had any part of this kind of thing. They'll just think I sat around and took photos of myself during a particularly good hair day while everyone else traipsed around Millennium Park and sang for strangers in the elevator.

Is there a fix for this, short of giving my camera full of memories to a perfect stranger and chancing theft? Not that I have found.

And will this change? Most likely, not.

Why is that? Because I love taking photos, hunting for those moments when a friend smiles their true smile or something crazy and unbelievable happens just as the shutter opens. It's the magic of the moment, the laughs and jokes captured right there to revisit, in case I never have another one. It's storing away little capsules full of happiness with my friends and family.

And really, if I wanted to look at myself, I could just look in a mirror...or visit MySpace.

Out