My Gas

I'm going to take a moment to be Time magazine:

3.49

The price in dollars per gallon of unleaded gas at a Marathon gas station on Sheridan Rd.

The effects of Katrina are really being felt in all regions. I remember the days of high school commuting when $1.49 was "getting expensive." Luckily, prices are supposed to stabilize or even decrease slightly over the next few days. And, in an ironic but also lucky fashion, I don't have to worry about filling up because I still don't have my car back.

The body shop was supposed to have it done in five-to-six days total. That was before they found out the new dashboard they had to order for my car was broken in the mail. Last Monday was the new ETA. Monday rolled around. I called, wondering why I hadn't been contacted, and they informed me that the second dash they ordered also broken in transit. I couldn't believe it! They really need to change carriers, or the shipping service needs to draw up some new methods for packaging. This means, however, that even though there is only a quarter tank of gas left, I am *forced* not to pay for it. Shame.

In other news, Hugo Chavez, in an obviously politically motivated move, is offering discounted gas to poor victims of the hurricane. Did you know a full tank of gas only costs $2 in Venezuela? And they'd be getting it for half that. If the president lets him. If the president doesn't kill him first...

Seriously, though, my heart aches for these people. The news clips and photo blogs are awesome (literally). I saw some heartwrenching videos on CNN that made me cry. I'm torn, because part of me really wants to go volunteer down there, but I can't just pick up and leave. I'm not quite sure what to do, because I can't exactly afford to donate a lot either (although any little bit will help). As such, I feel a bit guilty, but I'm sure it's something a lot of Americans are feeling right now as well. I guess doing anything you're realistically able to is worthwhile.

P.S. - Grrrr...

My New Work/Spanish Roots III

Ah, how different it feels to be working during the day. We have no subjects coming in for a while, so it's back to the office environs for me. I must say that it is terrible having to sit in an office chair in the afternoon--I get so sleepy and can barely concentrate. (Are you noticing the ironic pattern with my work here?) I've got a bunch of new tasks to accomplish. It's always good to be challenged, especially when you're having fun doing it.

And wow, have you seen the footage of the hurricane's aftermath? It looks like a wasteland--I really feel for those people. What really struck me was when one reporter poignantly noting conditions were so bad that the rescuers themselves had to be rescued. Emotions must be running high there.

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Here's another journal installment...

Wed., 9/15

Monday night I chilled with Liz (from Washington) for the night. I wanted to head to Carbonería, but we got a bit lost and ended up at a nice bar at the beginning of the street where, unbeknownst to use at the time, Carbonería is also located. I later found out that we in fact walked right by it, but there is no signage; there weren’t many people entering at the hour we arrived, and right now no one hangs out inside—they are out back on the patio during the summer, since it's way to hot to accomodate a crowd indoors. Oh well.

Tuesday night was the Paco de Lucia concert. Era fantástico. He did not disappoint. The particular style of music calls for three cantaores, or backup singers. Two of them were female, and one was an older male with the biggest gray hair you've ever seen. The vocals are an acquired taste, but you learn to appreciate its fit. The concert got a little repetitive 2/3 of the way into it, but it picked up again toward the end. He is a phenomenal guitarist. He can pluck those strings so fast and fluidly. I’m excited to start lessons once orientation ends and see if I can't learn the flamenco-inducing motions.

I finally found a Marsans travel agency and peeked in for the first time, after catching the bus. The flights for the “puente” weekends were much more expensive than I thought, but I don’t know when else I would make my bigger trips, so I might just take the ones I found at Marsans. I will have to check prices online later, though.

Tonight I am going to stay in and catch up on some sleep. A bunch of people are heading to Tribal again, but if last week was any predictor of tonight, I will be out waaaay late again tonight for the third time, and I don’t think I’d last tomorrow. Thank God for these siestas.

Compro poco cocos porque como cocos pocos porque I’m already lost…

*acantilados=cliffs

Fri., 9/17

Ugh, it’s so hot in our room again. Jon and I share a room at the end of a hallway that receives the least amount of circulation possible. And living in the hottest city in Europe, that's a big disadvantage. We need to buy a fan, or just continue to borrow the one in Conci’s kitchen.

Last night was kind of lame. We went to the Alfonso botellón again, but this time no one had alcohol and we wandered around aimlessly until we found some American girls. We talked to them for a bit and headed back just as the party was getting started, ironically. Must bring the alcohol again next time…

Meals with the fam continue to be fun. The conversations are always entertaining, even if it's sitting back and listening to the family banter. And Benito never fails to exhibit his spasdic self. He is very misbehaved, yet his mom doesn’t always reprimand him; in fact, she usually laughs at his immature behavior, so I wonder if he's ever going to grow up. But who am I to criticize the culture here. I mean, everyone here smokes two packs of cigarettes a day and still manages to live longer than the average non-smoking Americans :p

Tonight I shall head out to a symphony concert at the Teatro de la Maestranza (which boasts the best acoustically engineered concert hall in Europe). Hopefully the tickets will not be too expensive, especially with the purported student discount. The theater's house band is supposed to be particularly talented, so it shouldn't disappoint.

I am really looking forward to the trip to Lagos, Portugal, next weekend. The more I hear about it, the more it sounds like a real blast. It's free (even though we technically already paid for it in up front in the program fee) for a boat excursion around the rocky coastline and two nights in sweet hotels right near the waterfront, and only 30€ more for a surfing excursion—wet suit, board, and group trainer for an whole day. We are kind of jealous of the kids in other programs, though—they have several other excursions included in their program to nicer citiesfarther away like Barcelona and Madrid with nights over in hotels. It’d be nice not to have to pay 100€ for a train ride to the capital. Oh well…

My Prayer/Spanish Roots II

Pray for the folks down in New Orleans, because it looks like that city is going to be demolished. 175mph winds--that's absolutely amazing. I think that's worse than Andrew. CNN reported a worst case scenario would be most of the city under 5 feet of water. Unfortunately, from the looks of things, it doesn't seem like many people in the area are taking it too seriously, as many of them are relatively new to the area and have never experienced a hurricane. The Weather Channel showed many people still walking around outside and driving by the coast. I hope they move their asses soon.

Anyway, more from el diario...

Wed., 9/8

Last night opened my eyes to what is perhaps the real flavor of Sevilla. After searching fruitlessly through the endless nooks and crannies that comprise the city's streets for a good half hour, we finally found Tamboril, a recommended local sevillanos bar. But some in the group decided it wasn’t a good joint and went to Calle Betis for someone’s birthday. A few of us stayed behind, and we were glad we did. After trying the manzanilla Dad’s friend suggested way back when, we watched as the guitarist tuned up his strings and warmed up his vocal cords. Then the lights went out; he perched in front of a glass case containing a statue of the Virgin Mary surrounded by candles, and sung some heavily emotional songs. We thought we had the crappy seats as we returned to a separate little alcolve, but it turned out that the real party was in that section. Avery, Michelle, Maryanna, and I had front row seats to the guitarist and backup singers/rhythm, as the local women (and some men) performed the sevillanas/local dance style. It was very intimate, and I’m sure Jon and the others will get back there. I can’t wait to start taking guitar lessons.

Classes are already getting boring! We’ve learned all of this stuff before, but I guess it’s good to get a crash course. I never know what to do in the evenings. I need to get to the post office and find out about this Paco de Lucía concert, but other than that I can do everything else while I’m out with the group. Oh well.

Lunch was all quite entertaining today. We conversed a bit more than normal. Maria told us how she enjoyed when we *tried* to talk in Spanish; Jon embrassingly acceded that Maria “es gordo” after being tricked by Benito; and Benito/Maria shared some Spanish tongue-twister (toblalenguas?).

Mon., 9/13

Or should I say 13/9—I got so confused by that when setting up my cell phone!

The past few days have been a blast. Thursday, we went to Itálica, an ancient Roman “anfiteatro.” It wasn’t as interesting as it probably could have been, since much of the ampitheater was closed for renovation, but we were able to walk around the center floor and tour the house ruins surrounding it. I can’t remember what we did that night, if we did anything eventful at all—ah yes, some people went to Tamboril, while I stayed back and got ice cream since I had already gone two nights ago.

Friday was another day of boring classes, but the real fun kicked in that night. A full-fledged botellón party took place in some Plaza near el Parque de Maria Luísa. It was sick—we got there around midnight and this place kept filling up until it was flowing over into the streets. (People were lighting up hash and drinking in cars and the police always drove by without doing anything :p) There must have been over a thousand people. I got a bit mixed up with where everyone was going, but collected on a 5 euro bet with Jon that I could be level-headed enough to find our way out.

Saturday, the class took a bus trip to the city of Carmona. It was very picturesque, but we were all bitter because of the scorching heat under which we walked for most of the time. We toured the ancient Necropolis--interesting from an archaeological point of view, but otherwise kind of bland. We got some good snapshots on top of the Alcázar and tasted some fresh churros con chocolate and freshly-squeezed orange juice, mmm. Later, Erin, Jon, and I tried to gain entrance to the last concert in the Alacázar Jardines but they were sold out. We ended up just chilling at a bar close to home. There were two rather large, beastly dogs who were drooling and literally sat around each other (they later became some of our best friends in Spain :). The joke of the night was on Jon, who asked the bartender: “¿Tiene Cruzcampo [the only beer that Sevillanos drink, as it is mass-produced in Seville)?” to which the bartender replied, “Antes de agua?” and a roar of laughter ensued, haha.

Sunday, a group of 20 or so JYS people decided to make the train trip down to the beaches of Cádiz. It held a gorgeous backdrop as we floated in the Atlantic Ocean and sunbathed. It was pretty crowded, and we probably could have found a better beach, but we were lazy, and I had a good time. Some of us decided we will make a day trip to Jerez de la Frontera, a city we passed by on the train ride down, since the program decided to cancel a previously scheduled trip there.

**Notes: ¡Juevos de choco ≠ juevos de cadavers!

Today we made some preliminary cursos concertados decisions. We also found out that the trip to Ronda has been rescheduled, thus opening up that 5-day weekend for some sweet traveling. [JYS, our study abroad program, was plagued by bureacratic battling and miscommunications about scheduling.] I will have to book my flight to Italy to see Mandy for that period.

Not sure what’s going tonight—I will probably check out the travel agency, and then go from there.

Anfiteatro de Itálica

Mosaic floor, depicting saints of the days of the week, from housing that used surround the ampitheater.

Gateway to Carmona

Me, on top of the Alcázar

Necropolis

Playa de Cádiz

My Spanish Roots I

I have decided to begin reposting (most of) my journal from Spain. I was reminded of my intention to do this by Peter, who's setting one up for his upcoming term in London (link to come soon). I had been meaning to do it, especially since I started posting on another site but my efforts to maintain that journal failed. Had I known about blogging, I would've done this while I was in Spain, but alas, this posthumous recollection will have to do. I will post the excerpts periodically, and will inserting relevant pictures to spice it up the way it was really meant to be. However, the text is, for the most part, unedited, so if some of it is vexing or surprising, tough noogies.

**Note: While trying to find the soft copy of my journal, I flipped out for a good half hour because I couldn't find it and thought it had been deleted when I reorganized my study abroad documents (i.e. deleted mostly everythign that I thought I'd never need again). Turns out I had just moved it to the new hard drive I bought a few months ago :p.

So without further ado, here are the events as they unfolded during my wonderful term abroad in Spain...

Th., 9/2/04

First day in Spain! Flights were long, but the dinner immediately followed by breakfast on the Iberia flight helped get my stomach, at least, acclamated to the new schedule.

Bug in the food!

People forewarned me about the extent of smoking in Spain, but it was still surprising and amusing to see the customs agent light up a smoke right in front of me while stamping my passport. The airport has “designated smoking areas” in the middle of departure gates, and the RENFE trains have smoking cars, hah.

Saw my cousin Shawn—his wife, Jenn, is pregnant. Saw their home, went to Nick’s pizzeria and had a wonderful lunch with Shawn, then he took me to the airport--big help, since I had to transfer from LGA to JFK.

International check-in is its own city. Met and talked with a Moroccan woman and her family.

Concepción Pineta is my Señora. Benito, Irene, and María, plus “la abuela” (still haven’t met her). Jon Krieger is my roommate—he’s a cool dude, from Boston. We had lunch with the family, then napped much longer than we should have, then went out and did an initial tour of the area. We are spoiled because we are extremely close to the university—about a 15 minute walk max. We saw the Parque de Maria Luisa, the Plaza de España (gorgeous—tons of brick with tile/mosaic inlaid), and the edge of the university. Everyone here owns the same, small, fuel-efficient car. Nothing like America. The architecture and landscaping are totally different as well.

First day of orientation tomorrow…

Concepcion, Irene, & Me

Maria and Jon

Universidad de Sevilla

Maria Luisa Park

Tues., 9/7/04

Computer battery has been giving me problems. Seems to be OK, though, as long as it’s continuously plugged in…

Lots to recall…Hurricane Frances hit, and apparently affected the entire state of FL since it was so large. Family has been without power, and Mom is waiting to see Grandma in the hospital since she took a spill (nothing to do with the hurricane, ironically). I hope the cleanup process goes well there.

Sevilla continues to impress. We had a bit of an adventure on Saturday. Plaza Alfalfa (tiniest street yet filled with throngs of people) was so fun—not so Americanized like Calle Betis, which we visited Friday night. I was chatting with this girl Liz for a bit, and finally broke the ice with the Kappa girls. Btw, have to try Coconron or whatever that drink is called… Anyway, we decided not to go back the way we originally came (whose bright idea was that?), got lost in the sidestreets, and ended up by the river WAY north of my place. We heard someone in our program got mugged, too, so we were on edge. Luckily, the taxi ride home was cheap.

Calle Betis, site of many a drunken American

The siesta is the greatest invention since the bed. I just took one and am now reinvigorated for the night. Not sure what I’ll go do. I need to sign up for rowing and guitar lessons soon. Zach said he might end up rowing with me. That would be quite an experience.

On Sunday, Jon and I awoke to Maria, Irene, and Concepcion dancing to loud Spanish music while cooking lunch. What a fun bunch. The meal was spectacular, as usual. The food is always something new, which is much different apparently from what most of the other students on our program experience. Their Señoras tend to recycle food, or in some cases, not prepare anything at all (neither of which they’re not supposed to since we’re PAYING THEM FOR EVERY MEAL). Benito has returned from visiting with his father (Jon and I suspect Concepcion and the childrens' father are divorced/separated, but we didn't ask) and is always entertaining at the dinner table. He told Jon and me a “chiste" about Pringles—we couldn’t understand it all, but still laughed after deciphering something about farts and not being able to stop once you pop.

Sunday night we just chilled at a local heladería near my place. Jon has always wanted to get some ice cream there ever since we started walking by it on our way to the university. We also joke that the Noctalia mattress shop is never open, even though the lights are always on. It was a big to-do when we saw it open yesterday.

Classes are in full swing at Los Geranios. The teachers are cool. Nohemi, the grammar teacher, is the smallest darn Spaniard you’ve ever seen. She has the typical, fiery Andalusian temperament and blinks constantly, so much so that it’s distracting. Miguel, the convo teacher, is the traditionally stern but fun Spaniard teacher (NOTE: toward the end of the program, it became obvious that he was indeed one giant Antisemite), always wearing his Lacoste vest and everything. Maria Jose, our culture teacher, is also quite fun. She suggested us a bunch of fun sights, restaurants, and clubs in town to try. The big joke now is that Antony is a pot-smoking drunkard after admitting to having gone to a Botellón (illegal, full-on liquor store--these things are AMAZING). And by the way, there are no open-bottle laws here. The school has this German Shepard, Lobita, in a corner that’s always peering out at everyone and trying to make friends.

Alphas and Betas toured La Catedral/Giralda. The edifice is amazing. The altar backdrop has all these carvings wrought with gold (retablo). We took the 30-something-story trek up La Giralda to get an amazing view of the city. This tower has no steps as we're accostumed to; father, it has 45-degree slopes going up every corner. Apparently, it was built so that sentinels on horses could reach the king at the top. We all find it quite amazing that you can be partying and drinking right across the street from the third largest catherdral in the world.

The weather here has been ungodly hot during the day, but cool enough to enjoy a good time out at night. The entire city can’t wait until it cools down end of October.

Last night we took off to rest up, but tonight we shall get our fill of cultural festivities by watching flamenco at El Tamboril. I’m excited.

La Giralda

Seville's Cathedral, 3rd Largest in the World

My Scenic Route

I just got back from the longest bike ride I've taken yet: 2.6 hours. That may not seem that long to you pros, but this is only about the 8th ride I've take. Along with Ev, I explored a new bike trail way north through Highland Park and Lake Forest, Pecker's hometown. That area is very scenic, and has some good open straightaways to do some serious pedaling on. The only other ride I've taken that compares in terms of length and comfort is the first one I ever took when I went camping in southern IL a month ago (check out the pics below). That was some smoooooth riding.

I'm going to go scrounge for food again for the third night in a row because I've run out of decent meals and my car is still not back from the shop for me to take to take to the grocery store. The body shop had to order an entirely new dashboard, but the first one that came in the mail broke. Wonderful, just wonderful. It'd better damn well be ready by Monday.

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Camping Trip PicsCheck out the peacock in someone's driveway...

...and the emus in someone's backyard!

My Would-be Gang Neighbors

So I'm up again in the middle of the night, feeling the residual effect of having worked the entire night Wednesday. Among the random sites I've found while surfing the net tonight was this one about Rogers Park. I am REALLY glad I didn't end up moving there--I knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but I didn't realize it was that bad. Thankfully--as I've mentioned before--we have a much better place in a safer, less druggy area farther south. In fact, we just signed the lease and got the keys today. The moving fun begins next week!

My New Online Toy

In the midst of surfing on this, the 4th testing session interim of the night, I came across this. Awesome! Google Maps now has some competition. And MapQuest, who even knows why they're still around.

My Confusion

Normally, I don't enjoy discussing politics, but I do find it amusing and it confirms my cynicism when a politician says one thing on the record, and then tries to cover it up by saying the exact opposite. Take Pat Robertson's recent incendiary remarks over the idea to assissinate of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez:

Me: Mr. Robertson, you recently openly called for the assissanation of a top government official. What do you have to say for yourself?
Mr. Robertson: I didn't say "assassination." I said our special forces should "take him out." And 'take him out' can be a number of things, including kidnapping; there are a number of ways to take out a dictator from power besides killing him. I was misinterpreted by the AP, but that happens all the time.
Me: Oh, you were misinterpreted, were you? But I thought you said...let's see, ah yes, "If he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think we really ought to go ahead and do it. It's a whole lot cheaper than starting a war." How is that misinterpreting you?
Mr. Robertson: Uh...uh...banana hammock!

What a douche.

In other news, Tropical Storm & Soon-to-be Hurricane Katrina is heading right for SE Florida. Yet another reason I'm proud not to call FL home anymore. Really, folks, I don't know why you all think it's paradise. Have fun with that cyclone, everyone!

My Marine

Right now, my brother is holding the fort in the middle of the desert in California at 29 Palms Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center. That bastard is firing M-16s and getting the workout of his life while I'm getting EEG paste stuck underneath my nails. I'm still learning all the military jargon ("trash" = "stuff," as in "Bring that trash with you," and "cover" = "hat"), having to decipher 1/3 of the words that now come out of that boy's mouth, but I have uncovered that he is finishing up his Military Operations Specialty training as a radio field operator at 29 Palms, then going on inactive status to finish his bachelors, then going back to train in the officer flight program, where he'll one day be flying some bad-ass planes. What a track. The best part is, though, he's finally coming to visit the big brother in Chicago after he gets out of Cali! This will be his first time up here, so I'm excited to see him and show him around. Can't wait.

In the meantime, here are some photos of him to peruse. I'm proud of you, bro!

Pvt. First Class, soon-to-be Lance Corporal, Jonathan Ortiz, shaking the hand of General Hagee, Commandant of the Marine Corps & Joint Chiefs of Staff member. In other words, he's the top dog. (Jon told me not to make fun of him in this picture, but I think we can go ahead and laugh at his goofy teeth anyway.)

Group shot in camis (Jon is third from left).

My EKG

Tonight at work, I got my EKG (electrocardiogram) recorded, for free! I even got to take the paper recording home as a souvenir. See, the head nurse needed to train some other nurses to use a new EKG machine. They always test their equipment on young, healthy, preferably handsome men, and well, hey, who are we kidding, they natrually came to me first. Why am I so happy? Well, besides the fact that I got to show off my hot torso to the gawking nurses in a socially acceptable manner, it's just that the little things keep the world going. Especially the world at work.



It is especially helpful when one of your subjects withdraws from a study halfway through the protocol. One Jane Doe decided last night that the blood draws for 816 were too much (we told you three times in screening what you'd be going through, lady, and you had already had draws twice) and wanted to be discharged. Of course, we had to let her go, but it's always frustrating when someone bails out, and proceeds to take their compensation pay with them anyway. Sleep well!

On a more positive note, things are rolling along with my new place. Tomorrow, I will place the order for the utilities to be turned on, and this weekend Deanna and I can start moving in. It'll be wonderful to have a place finally to myself (well, with a roommate) to call home--not home away from home. To finally arrange it how I want and throw parties how I want and do whatever the hell I want, when I want. Speaking of wanting, we are desperately lacking a television and painting materials! If anyone reading this has a TV for sale and/or painting brushes/pans/throwcloths/dipsticks/whatever to lend, please let me know. It would be greatly appreciated!

My Random News Story II

Wedding sting hits smuggling ring

This is the stuff of movies.

My Mouse Trap

Yes, there is a real, live mouse running around in my apartment. I caught it out of the corner of my eye and thought first, "Wow, that's a really large cockroach." But a cockroach it is not. I thought mice only invaded homes with gaping holes in their walls or any place in the movies. Have no fear, the mousetrap has been set. According to my roommate, mice prefer peanut butter and Nutella. I can't say I have much experience in this area, so I will take his word for it. If there is a dead mouse in our dining room tomorrow, I think I'll make him take it out.

I was going to go for a bike ride today in this beautiful weather, but I needed to make some minor adjustments to my bike, and my attempt at handy-man repair failed. I adjusted the brakes fine, but after trying to adjust the derailleurs, I just made things worse. Now the spacing is off and it just makes a lot of noise. Guess I'll have to make a trip to the LBS tomorrow for some fine tuning before I take Sus out for another spin. Sus is my trusty stallion, dubbed as such after a suggestion from Eviatar, the local Hebrew expert.

See, when I got the bike used, it came with decal letters on the top tube that spelled "Jesus." I don't know exactly why the lettering was there, but I must say it was pretty cool riding around on the son of God for a while. Unfortunately, the letters "J" and "E" somehow came off today as I was riding it around the block. Now, it only spells "SUS." My first reaction was, "this sucks, grovel at a Sus." But, as I discovered from Eviatar, in Hebrew, "sus" means "horse." Not exactly comparable to having the Holy Spirit under my control, but empowering nonetheless.



And I have been playing way too much Halo 2. I finally hooked up the Xbox after four or five months of not having a TV, so I'm making up for lost time. Make all the cracks you want, but it is addicting. I should probably budget my time a little bit better, though, dedicate a little effort to more important things, like, say, getting into graduate school. Yeah, that'd be nice.

Re: My Great Seat

More than two million people will converge on Chicago's lakefront near the North Avenue shore tomorrow and Sunday for the annual Air & Water Show. That means more than 2/3 of the country's third largest metropolitan populace will be on one beach this weekend. That's like trying to fit the entire population of Cuba on one boat. I'm kind of glad I'm not going. I already got my sneak peek this week from my office anyway.

My Internet Doesn't Work

...which put me in a slightly sour mood last night. You know you couldn't live without it either. The only way I can work online is at work. I'm not completely sure why it's decided to crap out on me, but I did discover that during the whole time in my sublet, I had not been using the wireless router supplied by my roommates, but rather someone else's. They must have found out that I've been using it and somehow discovered a way to kick me off, even though they don't have a password. I don't know much about that stuff, so I could be wrong. All I know is that the router in our apartment does have a password, but I don't know it, and the one girl who does is out of town until next week. Guess I'll have to wait until then...

In spite of that, I must say I am now in a good mood, feeling fully refreshed and reenergized after biking into work for the first time. I would've started a few weeks ago, but my less-than-stellar health and lack of knowledge about the route prevented me. It was a great ride, though--gorgeous skies and scenery--and I will try to do it more regularly, at least until winter rolls around. Skidding on the ice on a 23cm tire is not something I'd like to experience.

My Nap Time (I Wish)

Must...stay...awake.

Now that I'm starting to work the days again, I'm having to readjust my body clock yet once more. I'm getting plenty of sleep yet I'm so goddamn tired. The irony, of course, is that I work in a sleep lab. I should be able to figure this out, right? Probably not, since I work nights again next week. Whoopee!

I'll have to get my energy back up for the big move at the end of the month, though. Yes, I finally got my first own residence (old news). A nice 2-bedroom place on Winona St (see right), on the border of Uptown and Andersonville right off of Broadway. Deanna and I got our credit approved (surprise, surprise) and now all that's left to do is get the keys and start paying the rent. We're hoping we can get in a few days early to paint and take measurements for furniture and such. My original plan was to move most of my stuff Labor Day weekend when my parents would have arrived with all the furniture, but due to my dad's eye problems, there may be a slight delay...

P.S. - Chipotle: my mind said let's go, but my heart is saying oh, no.

My Quizzical Rambling

Time to step up to the challenge. Face it, don't run away. Dedicate time to it and you will be rewarded. What you want is out there. Turn negatives into positives. Carpe diem.
(If you're wondering what this means, remember--it's not for you, it's for me.)

I hate that I do my best thinking when I'm laying in bed waiting to fall asleep. It's a nasty cycle, because then I'm unable to fall asleep as fast--occasionally I even have to get up from bed to write something down--and then I can't function well and critically think during the day, so it just pushes it back to night. Just another thing to drag me down.

My Random News Story I

Rumsfeld makes surprise visit to wife's vagina

My Shock Treatment

Conversation with my Dad today:

Dad:...[after chit-chatting] So I have something to tell you. I'm blind in one eye.
Me, after picking myself up from the ground: ...What?!
Dad: Yes, my retina fell off.
Me, after picking myself up from the ground a second time: ...Excuse me? Are you seriously blind or will it heal?
Dad: Oh, it's only temporary.
Me: Oh, thank God.

Yes, you read that correctly, his retina fell off. Apparently, it's not extremely rare. With age, people's retinas apparently just do fall off. And apparently it can be fixed. The surgeon gave a good prognosis, said he had an extremely good chance of success since the macular region stayed attached. All that's required is a month's healing time and an eye patch. I really wish I could see my dad in person wearing an eye patch. My mom says she's nicknamed him Blackbeard. Arr!

[later in the conversation]
Me: I guess you can't work or drive for now.
Dad: Yeah, I'll be out for a month. But I'll still drive.
Me: You realize you'll barely have any depth perception...
...........
Russ: Remind me not to drive around West Boca then.

My Thank You Card

I like my job. The following thank you note (plus chocolates, but I can't/won't share those) from one of my recent subjects is one reason why:

"Dear Mr. Nick,

Thanks a million. I have never had anyone place electrodes on my head as precise as you. It truly was perfection! Thanks for the company and the courtesy laughs!

Always,

Carol"

That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me in a while. Thank you, Carol.

My Great Seat

Warmups for the Air & Sea Show have apparently begun. The planes are doing fly-bys over my office building. I'm obviously not getting very much done right now.

My Commute I

On my commute to work downtown this morning, I espied a rather curious person. As the bus turned west off of Lake Shore, there, on the sidelines of the Northwestern tennis courts, just 20 meters off port side, was a woman with the most gigantic breasts I have ever seen. You might be thinking, "men, so typical." Normally, I would agree with you. But trust me when I say this was no triviality. EVERYONE on the bus turned to look--men, women, and, if I can trust my peripheral vision, the bus driver. I thought this woman was packing water balloons or wearing her backpack backward or something, but no, boobs. She looked about 50, but lefty and righty definitely were younger. And the worst part about it was that she was about to play tennis. I'm sure that would have been quite a match.
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Question: why is it that two bus drivers honk and/or wave to each other on the road, but only if both work for the same company? I noticed it in Europe, and it happens here too. In Chicago, Pace/Pace = friendly, CTA/CTA = friendly, but Pace vs. CTA = unfriendly. Is the rivalry that fierce? At least there's some amity on buses, though, because it never occurs among taxis, whether the drivers work for the same company or not. They just drive around like zombies and don't seem to pay attention to anything except getting to the passenger's destination and beginning their next waiting session.

My Sanitation Exclamation

I knew it was bad, but after reading this, I never want to ride the El again. Unfortunately, I am inelastically bound to taking it at least a couple of times per week. Seriously, don't click if you live in Chicago. Do not push the big red button.

My Monthly Budget

...is tighter than a thirteen-year-old. I mean, I will have just enough money left over at the end of every month to splurge on a six-pack and a movie. I will probably have to make newspaper double as TP--oh wait, I don't even get the newspaper. Shit.

OK, it's probably not that bad. But seriously, even though I am a full-time working man, that doesn't mean I can leave everything in my past behind. In fact, now is when I start paying for college! And it will take even longer than I initially anticipated to pay everything back. Plus, I can thank the wonderful homeless junkies of Evanston for breaking into my car, forcing me to give up my four wheels for over a week and delve even deeper into my wallet than I probably should otherwise. Woohoo. But I know there are other people who are in the same situation, so I should stop whining.

At least I got my money back from that loser on eBay who never sent me my stuff... Bastard.

My Introduction

Welcome to this, the most recent of many attempts to start some kind of online record of myself. Let me just make the caveat that this will not be some galavanting exposé to follow in the cliché of burgeoning, pretentious bloggers all across the digital world. I will not go on drawn-out tirades about how poorly the economy is doing or how our healthcare system is deteriorating (although I may mention them briefly :). I don't assume to know much about that stuff anyway; in fact, I assume to know very little, and after the continually depressing state of affairs we have seen in the last several years, I have become more politically disengaged than ever. Rather, this is simply an experiment to record the ongoing episodes, experiences, changes, issues, and idiosyncrasies in my life. I don't care if you don't read anything past this line, because this is more for me than it is for you. So get lost, or not.

With that being said...

enjoy the show.