This week has presented me with a host of re-entry problems after a VERY FINE long weekend in Chicago. The number one problem is the weather, or the fucking weather, if you want me to get more specific about it. Today is May 3 and it was snowing, SNOWING, when I left the house this morning. On Wednesday we were all in a tizzy because of a predicted 6-9-15 or howevermany inches of snow. SE of here, people were indeed treated to an unwelcome / ridiculous / recordbreaking snow dump that somehow completely missed us. I'm grateful to have been spared but still irritated about the entire thing and am probably still carrying the psychological weight of that forecast. It's May. MAY. It's May, y'all. On Tuesday it was warm! I was wearing a stupendous warm-weather outfit! Sandals! This morning it was 32 F!
I've just completely had it with climate change and the roller coaster it's causing.
Plus, my car was towed on Wednesday. What's worse, I think, is that I happened to stroll by my front window as it was being lifted on the truck, so that I was struck with sudden panic. By the time I ran outside (barefoot, pajama-clad, bed-headed) into the wet 40 degree morning, the truck was down the block and I was impotent to change anything. I didn't rage or cry or break shit, though all would have been perfectly logical reactions. I just heaved a sigh and changed my plans.
So I biked to work where I had a good scone and a terrible day and left early to ride my bike to the impound lot. En route, some jokester jackass pedestrian pretend-jumped in front of my bike with his arms raised and then giggled like he'd done something hilarious and I had to yell "NOT COOL DUDE" in a monster voice, which is just what came out of my mouth involuntarily. We were on an isolated bike/walk path, by the way, and someone jumping at my bike in such a circumstance tops the list of bike-related fears that I don't really let myself contemplate.
I also saw a turkey pacing frantically in front of a fence, like it was looking for a way to get to the other side, and I found the sight really depressing. Poor dumb turkey.
Anyway, people working at the impound lot are really nice, which is surprising when you consider the emotional state of most of the folks retrieving their impounded cars. Once I was home and hot-showered and fed and napping on the couch, the horizon opened up a crack and blazed a suntrail across the lake, so I went out to get some serenity and was rewarded with the sight of four pelicans cruising on the lake and a sunset that got spectacular after the sun was down. Small compensation, but I'll take it. I'd never seen pelicans in the city before, and the next day they were gone.
Work is also chapping my tender hide, but that's nothing new.
So, Chicago. Why don't I go there more often, like at least once a year? It's so dumb. If I'm flying solo I have a place to stay now, and I am perfectly happy just wandering around a city, walking miles and miles until I see an interesting shop or bar to go into. I put a lot of miles on my Fryes over the weekend, man, traversing many neighborhoods on foot. I bought some crazy/stupid (yet versatile/comfortable!) shoes at City Soles, I got a dress and a perfect spring sweater at a resale shop, I petted some Fluevogs, I bought some great prints at a gallery (where we'd randomly stopped off and witnessed the premiere of the shortest of short animations the first night in town) and had them shipped to me like a fancy lady. We went into some truly grotty thrift stores. We had MANY a delicious cocktail. I ate unreal vegan meats, finally knocking the Chicago Diner off my list (thrice, actually). I howled and wept with laughter; I both chatted flippantly and went deep with my friends. We saw the goddamn Lemonheads in concert at Lincoln Hall. The Lemonheads, y'all! Evan Dando! Sassy magazine's favorite boyfriend of like 1991! The concert was one of those spontaneous decisions that turns out to be The Perfect Thing. We had beers and bounced along in a great, unexpected 90s reverie and we ate burritos at 11:30 PM and went home early like old people.
I connected with a bunch of ladies I love. I packed almost perfectly (note to self: you can always use one more pair of lounge pants on vacation). I had easy airport experiences. We had a great airbnb rental. It was just good. Good good good. Vacation. It's good for you. It'll be awhile before I can take another but I'm going to work on more long weekends doing fun stuff in the future.
Meanwhile, Winnie was home hissing at my lovely, dedicated catsitters, which is a little sad. But she was psychologically undamaged and beside herself with joy when I got home, which made me feel irreplaceable. It was still warm at that point, so I opened all the windows and delighted in watching her lose her shit racing from window to window to SNIFF ALL THE THINGS. And of course, she is a cozy buddy when it is cold and shitty outside.
Good weather's coming back next week. Hopefully my attitude will return with it. Happy weekending, y'all.