In the spirit of the holidays, the fun starts at 0:59
Happy 42o folks! Feels strange to not be celebrating this year, but that's all a part of growing up, I guess.
"on the bright side, the black people loved it."
-EP
4/20/09
4/19/09
Estrellas de Ninjas
So the other day, I read an interesting article about a little town (so aptly named Littleton) in Colorado and an incident that occurred at their local high school, an incident which has spurred a national debate and multiple studies into the psyches of young kids throughout the country. In other words, it changed the world.
Of course I’m talking about Columbine here. And why I decide to touch on subject that really is a decade old (as of today, actually) is because the article made some interesting points. First of all, it aimed to debunk all the myths that had seemingly become common knowledge. The “Trench Coat Mafia,” the supposed ‘gang’ of misfits and disaffected videogamers which the two gunmen were a part of, didn’t exist. Contrary to popular belief, the two shooters had not been bullied to the point where they would get depressed and suicidal and to the point where they wished to lash back violently. In fact, rather, they were the ones who did the bullying. And that story about the girl who was shot because she said “yes” when asked if she believed in God? Didn’t happen.
And if you’re wondering why I decide to bring this up, years later and especially now that it has really disappeared from the public’s mind, it’s that this particular tragedy affected me personally. See, the moment this occurred, a whole new wave of paranoia and fear swept over the nation’s schools and suddenly anyone between the age of 12 and17 were potential suicidal murderers, prepared to wreak havoc on school grounds. Well, not anyone. Just those who played video games all the time and didn’t really fit in. Pretty much me and my friends in 8th grade. It was played out over the media that it was video games to blame for the incident, it was the fact that these kids were bullied, it’s the fact that these kids were loners. Keep on eye on them! Be nice to them! They’re the dangerous ones! And the moment they give you a dirty look, alert the authorities!
And of course, people did get fucking scared.
One year later takes us to this Catholic school in a suburb somewhere east of the San Francisco Bay. Some kid in the 8th grade class, who really was classified as a “misfit” (actually I recall a friend of mine telling me back in 8th grade to not worry, I’ll be popular in high school) decides to bring some pieces of metal shaped in the form of stars to school. Ninja stars, if you will (but really, they were from Mexico. So were they really…minja stars?) To put a long story short, this seemingly disaffected misfit (who really wouldn’t try to hurt anyone. He was just a geek who liked playing Final Fantasy) made a lot of kids in his class feel “threatened,” and with Columbine fresh on everyone’s minds, authorities were alerted.
They called me into the office. They told me to bring my backpack so they could search it. There was a chubby police officer there waiting with his arms crossed. And they searched my bag and found those estrellas de ninjas. The police officer carefully dropped them into a bag marked “evidence.”
In a perfect world, they told me, things could go back to normal. But the world is a cold, cold place, and they told me not to come back to school. It was a month and a half before the end of 8th grade, I was accepted to the local Catholic High School too, I was the top of my class. And they told me they didn’t want to see me back on the property, else police action will be taken. My acceptance to the high school I had been accepted into had been retracted. I never saw a lot of my friends again.
But at least I got an extra long summer!
As a 13 year old, who wouldn’t have been sorta traumatized by the whole situation? I’ve since gotten over the whole ordeal, but today I’m convinced that if the whole country hadn’t been sucked into this culture of fear and paranoia, the action taken on me wouldn’t have been so harsh and I probably would have been able to finish 8th grade. I was a victim of mass media, and unfortunately at my particular school, an example had to be made.
And to hear 10 years later that perhaps the media blew up the story and made false assumptions about the types of people these sick gunmen were, I can't help but wonder what the fuck would have happened had I not been tagged by the authorities as a "threatening and dangerous loser."
It’s been years since I’ve watched Bowling For Columbine. I don’t entirely remember everything about the movie, and I really think it was more about gun control than anything. M’eh.
And so, since I’ve made the promise to post pictures of the Windy City on here for all those who read my blog and are living out their travel dreams vicariously through me, my next set of pics come from the Hancock building, one of the two (though I think lesser known-the other is the Sears Tower, of course) towers that define the Chicago skyline. Here’s a pic of it for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s the black tower in the distance.
And here it is from below:
So in regular tourist trap fashion, next to the shop that sells the obligatory postcards, t-shirts, and scale models, there’s a special elevator on the bottom floor that will take you all the way up to the observatory on the 95th floor. And also in regular tourist trap fashion, it’ll cost you a cool $15 to ride it.
Being the smart-with-money (read: cheap) guy that I am, I knew there had to be another way up to avoid paying that price. It’s a freakin office building, there’s gotta be other elevators I could ride up. And I did find em. I also embarrassed myself by jumping into an elevator but got totally rejected because I needed a key-card to activate the damn thing. I got lucky on the next elevator I jumped into though:
Ha. So apparently at the top of the Hancock building, there’s a lounge and restaurant which has all the views you would be getting from the observatory anyway…but they’ll serve you food and drinks too! And so, instead of paying $15 for an elevator ticket ride up to the observatory, I paid $9 for a beer at the lounge, and still got the same view. Take that, the system!
The Sears Tower in the distance
The Navy Pier, I talked about it earlier
The Lake Michigan shoreline
There’s something very SimCity-esque about these views. I like it. But it’s also an indication of how flat this whole state seems to be. I kinda miss having hills and mountains.
You see that there? That’s what’s west of Chicago. If you look real closely, you can almost see California.
"I can't finish that. I'm not American"
-OO
Of course I’m talking about Columbine here. And why I decide to touch on subject that really is a decade old (as of today, actually) is because the article made some interesting points. First of all, it aimed to debunk all the myths that had seemingly become common knowledge. The “Trench Coat Mafia,” the supposed ‘gang’ of misfits and disaffected videogamers which the two gunmen were a part of, didn’t exist. Contrary to popular belief, the two shooters had not been bullied to the point where they would get depressed and suicidal and to the point where they wished to lash back violently. In fact, rather, they were the ones who did the bullying. And that story about the girl who was shot because she said “yes” when asked if she believed in God? Didn’t happen.
And if you’re wondering why I decide to bring this up, years later and especially now that it has really disappeared from the public’s mind, it’s that this particular tragedy affected me personally. See, the moment this occurred, a whole new wave of paranoia and fear swept over the nation’s schools and suddenly anyone between the age of 12 and17 were potential suicidal murderers, prepared to wreak havoc on school grounds. Well, not anyone. Just those who played video games all the time and didn’t really fit in. Pretty much me and my friends in 8th grade. It was played out over the media that it was video games to blame for the incident, it was the fact that these kids were bullied, it’s the fact that these kids were loners. Keep on eye on them! Be nice to them! They’re the dangerous ones! And the moment they give you a dirty look, alert the authorities!
And of course, people did get fucking scared.
One year later takes us to this Catholic school in a suburb somewhere east of the San Francisco Bay. Some kid in the 8th grade class, who really was classified as a “misfit” (actually I recall a friend of mine telling me back in 8th grade to not worry, I’ll be popular in high school) decides to bring some pieces of metal shaped in the form of stars to school. Ninja stars, if you will (but really, they were from Mexico. So were they really…minja stars?) To put a long story short, this seemingly disaffected misfit (who really wouldn’t try to hurt anyone. He was just a geek who liked playing Final Fantasy) made a lot of kids in his class feel “threatened,” and with Columbine fresh on everyone’s minds, authorities were alerted.
They called me into the office. They told me to bring my backpack so they could search it. There was a chubby police officer there waiting with his arms crossed. And they searched my bag and found those estrellas de ninjas. The police officer carefully dropped them into a bag marked “evidence.”
In a perfect world, they told me, things could go back to normal. But the world is a cold, cold place, and they told me not to come back to school. It was a month and a half before the end of 8th grade, I was accepted to the local Catholic High School too, I was the top of my class. And they told me they didn’t want to see me back on the property, else police action will be taken. My acceptance to the high school I had been accepted into had been retracted. I never saw a lot of my friends again.
But at least I got an extra long summer!
As a 13 year old, who wouldn’t have been sorta traumatized by the whole situation? I’ve since gotten over the whole ordeal, but today I’m convinced that if the whole country hadn’t been sucked into this culture of fear and paranoia, the action taken on me wouldn’t have been so harsh and I probably would have been able to finish 8th grade. I was a victim of mass media, and unfortunately at my particular school, an example had to be made.
And to hear 10 years later that perhaps the media blew up the story and made false assumptions about the types of people these sick gunmen were, I can't help but wonder what the fuck would have happened had I not been tagged by the authorities as a "threatening and dangerous loser."
It’s been years since I’ve watched Bowling For Columbine. I don’t entirely remember everything about the movie, and I really think it was more about gun control than anything. M’eh.
And so, since I’ve made the promise to post pictures of the Windy City on here for all those who read my blog and are living out their travel dreams vicariously through me, my next set of pics come from the Hancock building, one of the two (though I think lesser known-the other is the Sears Tower, of course) towers that define the Chicago skyline. Here’s a pic of it for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s the black tower in the distance.
And here it is from below:
So in regular tourist trap fashion, next to the shop that sells the obligatory postcards, t-shirts, and scale models, there’s a special elevator on the bottom floor that will take you all the way up to the observatory on the 95th floor. And also in regular tourist trap fashion, it’ll cost you a cool $15 to ride it.
Being the smart-with-money (read: cheap) guy that I am, I knew there had to be another way up to avoid paying that price. It’s a freakin office building, there’s gotta be other elevators I could ride up. And I did find em. I also embarrassed myself by jumping into an elevator but got totally rejected because I needed a key-card to activate the damn thing. I got lucky on the next elevator I jumped into though:
Ha. So apparently at the top of the Hancock building, there’s a lounge and restaurant which has all the views you would be getting from the observatory anyway…but they’ll serve you food and drinks too! And so, instead of paying $15 for an elevator ticket ride up to the observatory, I paid $9 for a beer at the lounge, and still got the same view. Take that, the system!
The Sears Tower in the distance
The Navy Pier, I talked about it earlier
The Lake Michigan shoreline
There’s something very SimCity-esque about these views. I like it. But it’s also an indication of how flat this whole state seems to be. I kinda miss having hills and mountains.
You see that there? That’s what’s west of Chicago. If you look real closely, you can almost see California.
"I can't finish that. I'm not American"
-OO
4/9/09
Diversity Month, Formerly Diversity Day
So, April is apparently “diversity month” here at DePaul University (should I make the faint connection to The Office here?) I’m not entirely sure what that entails or what exactly they’re trying to demonstrate, but hey, if they’re ranked the most diverse school in the nation, then I guess we should celebrate it.
And what better way to celebrate being the most diverse university in the nation than with a cultural food fair?
We be celebrating diversity here yo.
I dunno. I’m not normally one to take the whole people of color thing too seriously, but you can’t help but wonder when looking at this flyer what the hell were they thinking? It’s cool and all if we were in high school, where the confines of your local demographics limits your perception of what a diverse crowd would look like. But this is a freakin university, we’re a little older and mature and worldly (I hope, at least) and to celebrate how diverse we are by the kinds of foods that are available seems very stuff white people like – ish.
But why not check it out. Without friends and a job, I had all the time in the world anyway. So I put on my Thursday best and proceeded to see how the largest Catholic university (25,000 enrolled, FYI) in the world would celebrate its diversity. What I came across was a room lined with science fair-esque poster boards representing over 15 countries of the world from Turkey to Indonesia to Nigeria. Using the magic of the paper cut out and google picture search, visitors could go around the room and learn about the country from which the food they are currently eating came from, in very easy to read paragraphs.
And to top it all off, each country was given a 30 second video slot on stage to showcase the beauty of their country (most people just used the promotional ‘vacation here at ____’ videos though), and were given another 30 seconds to talk about the type of foods and religions and other fun facts that can be found in their native country, all to the background of some ‘traditional’ music and in ‘traditional’ dress (I think I heard the word ‘traditional’ so much today, it’s lost all traditional meaning to me)
I wasn’t exactly sure what surprised me more, how ridiculous this all seemed or whether this was exactly what I expected to see. It was like something out of a bad elementary school presentation. I’d expect this if we were in maybe, 4th grade, but what I witnessed today was a grim reminder that though this may be the 3rd most populous metropolis in the world’s melting pot, I am still in the Midwest.
Just to clear things up.
Perhaps I simply have a different perception of what diversity and culture is, being from the hyper-diverse regions of the Bay Area and Los Angeles. But coming from a university where diversity is celebrated in 3-4 hour long culture shows and large influential student groups, this 2-bit science fair seems like a major step back for us minorities.
But I can’t complain. They gave me free food.
Moving on, my daily attempts to remind myself that I made the right decision to uproot myself completely have led to yet more seeing of sights. Still an outsider here, I of course flocked towards the first place any tourist would go to…the touristy spots.
Navy Pier was one of those spots. In pure tourist pier fashion (I’m looking at you, Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Monica Pier, and Pier 39!) there was the obligatory ferris wheel and carnival games.
Well, except for the fact that neither of those were in service, being that it was a brisk 29 degrees and snowing. Even the restaurants were closed and cut off.
Why, Beer Garden? Why did you have to be closed???
The top of the pier was mostly depressing as well. I suppose this time of year, there aren’t too many visitors, so I guess they didn’t have to cater to anyone, spring break visitors be damned. Bleh. Kinda reminds me of the time I visited Coney Island last March.
man. that was depressing.
It’s also a given that Chicago is definitely a sports town, host to a team from ever major U.S. sport (covering some of them twice). Given that fact, I did what you could call stadium hopping, and visited everywhere from The House That Jordan Built, the United Center:
U.S. Cellular Field, home of your 2005 world champion White Sox:
And historical Wrigley Field, which now, in addition to being the home of the Chicago Cubs, sells discount tires.
And what way to better end my day than by enjoying a nice meal at the fanciest McDonald’s I’ve ever been to.
I don’t usually eat McDonald’s, but I had to see if the food was any different cause of the fancy entrance. It wasn’t.
"I'd rather be a doctor than a vet cause I'd rather see a person die than a cute little animal die."
-KT
And what better way to celebrate being the most diverse university in the nation than with a cultural food fair?
We be celebrating diversity here yo.I dunno. I’m not normally one to take the whole people of color thing too seriously, but you can’t help but wonder when looking at this flyer what the hell were they thinking? It’s cool and all if we were in high school, where the confines of your local demographics limits your perception of what a diverse crowd would look like. But this is a freakin university, we’re a little older and mature and worldly (I hope, at least) and to celebrate how diverse we are by the kinds of foods that are available seems very stuff white people like – ish.
But why not check it out. Without friends and a job, I had all the time in the world anyway. So I put on my Thursday best and proceeded to see how the largest Catholic university (25,000 enrolled, FYI) in the world would celebrate its diversity. What I came across was a room lined with science fair-esque poster boards representing over 15 countries of the world from Turkey to Indonesia to Nigeria. Using the magic of the paper cut out and google picture search, visitors could go around the room and learn about the country from which the food they are currently eating came from, in very easy to read paragraphs.
And to top it all off, each country was given a 30 second video slot on stage to showcase the beauty of their country (most people just used the promotional ‘vacation here at ____’ videos though), and were given another 30 seconds to talk about the type of foods and religions and other fun facts that can be found in their native country, all to the background of some ‘traditional’ music and in ‘traditional’ dress (I think I heard the word ‘traditional’ so much today, it’s lost all traditional meaning to me)
I wasn’t exactly sure what surprised me more, how ridiculous this all seemed or whether this was exactly what I expected to see. It was like something out of a bad elementary school presentation. I’d expect this if we were in maybe, 4th grade, but what I witnessed today was a grim reminder that though this may be the 3rd most populous metropolis in the world’s melting pot, I am still in the Midwest.
Just to clear things up.Perhaps I simply have a different perception of what diversity and culture is, being from the hyper-diverse regions of the Bay Area and Los Angeles. But coming from a university where diversity is celebrated in 3-4 hour long culture shows and large influential student groups, this 2-bit science fair seems like a major step back for us minorities.
But I can’t complain. They gave me free food.
Moving on, my daily attempts to remind myself that I made the right decision to uproot myself completely have led to yet more seeing of sights. Still an outsider here, I of course flocked towards the first place any tourist would go to…the touristy spots.
Navy Pier was one of those spots. In pure tourist pier fashion (I’m looking at you, Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Monica Pier, and Pier 39!) there was the obligatory ferris wheel and carnival games.
Well, except for the fact that neither of those were in service, being that it was a brisk 29 degrees and snowing. Even the restaurants were closed and cut off.
Why, Beer Garden? Why did you have to be closed???The top of the pier was mostly depressing as well. I suppose this time of year, there aren’t too many visitors, so I guess they didn’t have to cater to anyone, spring break visitors be damned. Bleh. Kinda reminds me of the time I visited Coney Island last March.
man. that was depressing.It’s also a given that Chicago is definitely a sports town, host to a team from ever major U.S. sport (covering some of them twice). Given that fact, I did what you could call stadium hopping, and visited everywhere from The House That Jordan Built, the United Center:
U.S. Cellular Field, home of your 2005 world champion White Sox:
And historical Wrigley Field, which now, in addition to being the home of the Chicago Cubs, sells discount tires.
And what way to better end my day than by enjoying a nice meal at the fanciest McDonald’s I’ve ever been to.
I don’t usually eat McDonald’s, but I had to see if the food was any different cause of the fancy entrance. It wasn’t.
"I'd rather be a doctor than a vet cause I'd rather see a person die than a cute little animal die."
-KT
4/4/09
Don't you realize? Vienna waits for you.
So it’s been nearly 5 days since I first stepped foot off that train and into what would ultimately be the stage for my next/new but exciting/scary stage in life. I sometimes hate to get melodramatic about things (and have been characterized as so), but I must answer back with “with what authority do you have to judge my reactions? Are you out here where I am?”
guess this makes it official.
And so it’s not like I didn’t make the realization before, but I think it really started to hit me that I’m taking a radically different direction in life than I was, say, 2 months ago. February 4, 2009, I was knee deep in the grind of things, working a full-time job, living from paycheck to paycheck just to pay the bills and rent, and would spend my evenings watching re-runs of I Love Money and Scrubs over cooking whatever it was I was making for dinner, so I could eat, and browse some off-the-wall articles on digg and reddit before I would pour myself a glass of merlot to put myself to sleep, so I could wake up 6 hours later to start the process all over. April 4, 2009, I Love Money and merlot are still there, but at the very least I can say I’m doing it in a different part of the country.
But it’s definitely different here. No, I can’t say that. That simplifies it way too much. It would be immature and one-sided for me to say that this place is different in the sense that it’s just not California. Sure, the differences are obvious. The weather is colder, the transit is better, the bars are a little less posh and there just aren’t as many Asians, mind you. But like every other American city, and really, like any other city in the world, you’re gonna find that everyone has one thing in common: we all struggle. And we struggle to do the same thing. Everyone’s struggling to pay for something, no matter where you are. In Manila, you may be struggling to pay to feed your family, while in LA you’ll probably be struggling to pay off your BMW. The rat race is everywhere, to what extent and how intense is the biggest variable.
Let’s take into account something I noticed last night, as I spent my first Friday night here in the Windy City at a bar with a pool table and a bunch of 35+ folks. Was definitely not my scene. But why wasn’t it my scene? Well, yes, I was much younger than everyone else there, but it was a simple detail that I failed to notice at first: I’ve never played pool in a bar in Los Angeles, and I can’t recall ever seeing a pool table in a bar in Los Angeles in the first place. Now that may seem like a simple and minute detail. But my uncle made an interesting point when he mentioned that it seems in LA everyone’s too busy with trying to advance themselves that no one takes the time to slow down, have a beer, take off that tie and relax for goodness sake. There’s nothing wrong with trying to make money to make money to later squander it on your designer bag or your lease to your sports car, but there are a lot of other places where there’s less money circulating and the dollar is harder earned, and likewise, priorities are different. With that said, drop some quarters on the table and let’s play some pool.
I think what bothers me most at this moment is everything and everyone I left behind. Maybe I’m only saying or feeling this because I haven’t really met too many people out here yet (and really, it has only been 5 days), but coming home at night at around 9 with my family already asleep leaves something to be yearned for. No longer is there someone to see or hang out with a few blocks up the street, 10 minutes up 280, or even just in the apartment downstairs. And although the wonders of the internet (thank you twitter) have ensured that I will always know what everyone is doing at every single hour of the day, I think right now it’s not helping when I would much rather be at that LA pillow fight, at that Duke Ellington tribute concert, or even at that formal.
Eh. Can't dwell on that forever. Anyways, all that depressing prophetic philosophical shit aside, let’s get onto the interesting stuff: Chicago sightseeing!
Fortunate enough with a lot of time on my hands to explore this small town in the Midwest, I was able to take the time to take the train somewhere, get off randomly, and wander around aimlessly until I no longer had the motivation to. The skyline is beautiful and the architecture is amazing (and I like my architecture).
What does suck, however, is the lack of hills or mountains from which I would be able to get a higher vantage point of the city. The whole area is flat, and while that’s nice for walking or biking long distances, it sucks if you’re trying to look for a view similar to the one you would find from the Coit Tower, the Hayward Hills, or the Hollywood sign.
Of course, one of the first things I looked for was a place to finally get that coveted “Chicago-style” pizza (it’s just called pizza here though). Without any suggestions from anyone, I figured I would drop by the first place I saw as soon as I got hungry. Kinda ironic that the place where I get my first taste of Chicago-style pizza is a place called “Rosati’s Authentic Chicago California Style Deli ”
The pizza was…alright. This sausage deep dish variety was fairly dry, the crust was nothing to die for and the meat scarce. I suppose this is what I should expect for $4 at a fast food “California” grill. I’ve since gotten suggestions for better places to find pizza, even a place that will, for a fee, send a pizza via mail to an address of your choice (so I WILL be able to follow through on my promise to send everyone pizza!)
Wandering around further led me to the Lake Michigan waterfront, the closest thing to a beach I’ll find out here. But don’t get me wrong, it is definitely a nice waterfront. On good days, I hear you can even see across the whole great lake and even see the shore of Michigan. Michigan. Eh. Been there, seen that, not impressed.
But something that stuck out at Millennium Park on the lakefront was a large, metallic, kidney bean shaped structure that is so aptly named the “Cloud Gate.” Many, though, have already dubbed it the "Chicago Bean." Even the postcards refer to this sculpture as the bean. Inspired by liquid mercury, it is said to be shaped in the form of a gate to welcome visitors to walk through and under its mirror-like surface, which itself reflects the Chicago skyline.
But to me, it’s still just a fucking bean.
"...and we'd be like 'daddy, why do we keep cooking fresh chicken for dinner when we never go to the store? and why are there only 3 chickens in the back now?' "
-SM
guess this makes it official.And so it’s not like I didn’t make the realization before, but I think it really started to hit me that I’m taking a radically different direction in life than I was, say, 2 months ago. February 4, 2009, I was knee deep in the grind of things, working a full-time job, living from paycheck to paycheck just to pay the bills and rent, and would spend my evenings watching re-runs of I Love Money and Scrubs over cooking whatever it was I was making for dinner, so I could eat, and browse some off-the-wall articles on digg and reddit before I would pour myself a glass of merlot to put myself to sleep, so I could wake up 6 hours later to start the process all over. April 4, 2009, I Love Money and merlot are still there, but at the very least I can say I’m doing it in a different part of the country.
But it’s definitely different here. No, I can’t say that. That simplifies it way too much. It would be immature and one-sided for me to say that this place is different in the sense that it’s just not California. Sure, the differences are obvious. The weather is colder, the transit is better, the bars are a little less posh and there just aren’t as many Asians, mind you. But like every other American city, and really, like any other city in the world, you’re gonna find that everyone has one thing in common: we all struggle. And we struggle to do the same thing. Everyone’s struggling to pay for something, no matter where you are. In Manila, you may be struggling to pay to feed your family, while in LA you’ll probably be struggling to pay off your BMW. The rat race is everywhere, to what extent and how intense is the biggest variable.
Let’s take into account something I noticed last night, as I spent my first Friday night here in the Windy City at a bar with a pool table and a bunch of 35+ folks. Was definitely not my scene. But why wasn’t it my scene? Well, yes, I was much younger than everyone else there, but it was a simple detail that I failed to notice at first: I’ve never played pool in a bar in Los Angeles, and I can’t recall ever seeing a pool table in a bar in Los Angeles in the first place. Now that may seem like a simple and minute detail. But my uncle made an interesting point when he mentioned that it seems in LA everyone’s too busy with trying to advance themselves that no one takes the time to slow down, have a beer, take off that tie and relax for goodness sake. There’s nothing wrong with trying to make money to make money to later squander it on your designer bag or your lease to your sports car, but there are a lot of other places where there’s less money circulating and the dollar is harder earned, and likewise, priorities are different. With that said, drop some quarters on the table and let’s play some pool.
I think what bothers me most at this moment is everything and everyone I left behind. Maybe I’m only saying or feeling this because I haven’t really met too many people out here yet (and really, it has only been 5 days), but coming home at night at around 9 with my family already asleep leaves something to be yearned for. No longer is there someone to see or hang out with a few blocks up the street, 10 minutes up 280, or even just in the apartment downstairs. And although the wonders of the internet (thank you twitter) have ensured that I will always know what everyone is doing at every single hour of the day, I think right now it’s not helping when I would much rather be at that LA pillow fight, at that Duke Ellington tribute concert, or even at that formal.
Eh. Can't dwell on that forever. Anyways, all that depressing prophetic philosophical shit aside, let’s get onto the interesting stuff: Chicago sightseeing!
Fortunate enough with a lot of time on my hands to explore this small town in the Midwest, I was able to take the time to take the train somewhere, get off randomly, and wander around aimlessly until I no longer had the motivation to. The skyline is beautiful and the architecture is amazing (and I like my architecture).
What does suck, however, is the lack of hills or mountains from which I would be able to get a higher vantage point of the city. The whole area is flat, and while that’s nice for walking or biking long distances, it sucks if you’re trying to look for a view similar to the one you would find from the Coit Tower, the Hayward Hills, or the Hollywood sign.
Of course, one of the first things I looked for was a place to finally get that coveted “Chicago-style” pizza (it’s just called pizza here though). Without any suggestions from anyone, I figured I would drop by the first place I saw as soon as I got hungry. Kinda ironic that the place where I get my first taste of Chicago-style pizza is a place called “Rosati’s Authentic Chicago California Style Deli ”
The pizza was…alright. This sausage deep dish variety was fairly dry, the crust was nothing to die for and the meat scarce. I suppose this is what I should expect for $4 at a fast food “California” grill. I’ve since gotten suggestions for better places to find pizza, even a place that will, for a fee, send a pizza via mail to an address of your choice (so I WILL be able to follow through on my promise to send everyone pizza!)
Wandering around further led me to the Lake Michigan waterfront, the closest thing to a beach I’ll find out here. But don’t get me wrong, it is definitely a nice waterfront. On good days, I hear you can even see across the whole great lake and even see the shore of Michigan. Michigan. Eh. Been there, seen that, not impressed.
But something that stuck out at Millennium Park on the lakefront was a large, metallic, kidney bean shaped structure that is so aptly named the “Cloud Gate.” Many, though, have already dubbed it the "Chicago Bean." Even the postcards refer to this sculpture as the bean. Inspired by liquid mercury, it is said to be shaped in the form of a gate to welcome visitors to walk through and under its mirror-like surface, which itself reflects the Chicago skyline.
But to me, it’s still just a fucking bean.
"...and we'd be like 'daddy, why do we keep cooking fresh chicken for dinner when we never go to the store? and why are there only 3 chickens in the back now?' "
-SM
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