A horse in my parking lot

I'm sitting on my front porch. The sun is setting. It's absolutely beautiful.

I have to acknowledge that I live in a small town. This was brought home to me when I came outside this evening to check the mail, and found a girl trotting a horse around the parking lot of my apartment complex. Now, granted, this doesn't happen every day, but it has happened before. You'll find random patches of rural land throughout my town, with cows or horses or chickens. And then it's back to Wal-Mart and the new shopping complex. It can be a strange dichotomy.

But it is beautiful. Birds are chirping in the trees that are finally starting to bloom. The air is peaceful. Just a distant hum of traffic. It's the perfect temperature right now, though I imagine it will get chilly soon.

I've been sick for a couple of days, and I didn't feel like doing much today. But the inside of my house was starting to feel like a prison, so I came out to check the mail and decided to stay. I brought my laptop, and now I'm hoping to crank out another chapter in my novel. Regardless, it's nice to breathe some fresh air that doesn't smell like my kitchen or the Scentsy in my bedroom. Don't get me wrong, I love my Scentsy. But it's not the same as the air outside.

I hope that you can enjoy some fresh air too. It does wonders.

RE: Welcome Spring

Today it snowed.

Ironically, today is April Fool's Day. I and many I know have long considered Utah weather to be inconsistent and unpredictable. Today, Utah played a big practical joke on us all.

Welcome Spring!

I do love spring. Sometimes I give spring a hard time, and sometimes I don't appreciate spring nearly enough. I have such a deep affection for autumn and winter that sometimes spring just gets a hard break in my book. But I really do love spring.

This year, I am planting flowers (which I received here). I planted several last weekend, but the rest have to wait another 6 weeks or so. I had a blast raking up the leaves and gunk from our planter boxes in the front of my apartment. There is something about gardening that has always been somewhat mysterious to me. I've never really serious gardened before--not that I expect to this year. I'll be lucky if ANY of my flowers grow...I can't even keep potted plants alive! But I found the fresh air and the dirt and the leaves immensely satisfying.

I have an annual tradition which dates four years ago now. In the spring of 2006 I was living in the Bell Apartments down in Cedar City. I lived on the second floor, I had a big window in my bedroom that looked out over Cedar. Every night for almost a month, I threw open that window and listened to the soundtrack of Rent. Something about that music...it has incredible nostalgic powers. It gives me a feeling of freedom (end-of-semester, perhaps?) and of endless possibilities.

I think that's really what spring comes down to for me. It's a restart, a refresh. Everything is coming to a close, and to a beginning. There is limitless potential, for the world and for my own life. Spring is when I take a step back, re-evaluate where I'm at and where I'm going. I make exciting plans for the future. I relax and unwind from the stress of winter. I am free.

I really do love spring. I hope to make the most of it this year!

I like to be chill.

There is so much drama in the world, in my life. So little of it has anything to do with me. Drama surrounds me like a haze. I guess I experience drama vicariously through others. Roommates. Friends. Coworkers. My mother. (Love you Mom!) I guess I have my own share of drama. But I imagine myself (my own construct) to be pretty low-key in this regard. I may be crazy-crazy-busy, but despite this, I still have a low modicum of drama. In proportion to the aforementioned people in my life.

I think I like it better this way.




PS: The title of this blog has nothing to do with temperature. I'm finding this winter that I am cold ALL THE TIME and it's driving me crazy. I'm becoming like Whitnee, which is NOT exciting. Grady says I'm a wuss. He's probably right. But regardless, I do NOT like to be cold.

The good news...

• Autumn is wonderful, autumn is beautiful, and autumn is HERE.
• Sam and I have been making great progress on our novel thus far this week.
• Grady comes home tomorrow!
• I'm competing in a tournament this Saturday!

The bad news

• It is really, really cold in the office. I'm constantly trying to keep my hands warm, and they're already starting to chap.
• I STILL haven't written my liberal arts statement. Hopefully Mom will help me...
• Life is still crazy-busy. I feel like I have no time for socializing. Somehow I have to get this sorted out!

Nostalgia

I read a blog post just now where the writer said, "I don't normally wax nostalgic, but it happened the other day."

There are a set of specific things that, without fail, will lay nostalgic claims upon me. There are times of year that are particularly rife with these nostalgic moments--particularly the late spring and the early fall.

This time of year just gets me. It's the mystical time of Back to School. The nostalgia is so much worse, not being in school. I miss it, I do. Right now, I can't help but think to myself, "Maybe I could back, to study...something..." I have loved school my entire life. I wonder if that craving will ever entirely leave me.

But even more so, I just love the fall. It is without a doubt my favorite season of the year. I love the crispness in the air, the mystery of the evenings, the crunch of dry leaves, the color of those selfsame leaves upon the mountainside, the feeling of the holidays approaching, the feeling of infinite capacity that overcomes me.

I love autumn colors. I think I would love to be married in the fall--early enough so I could still have an outdoor reception, but still with those rich and glorious colors. Rust and scarlet, the beautiful oranges that are just rich enough not to be Halloween-y and garish, the goldenrod-yellows and the deep, glorious browns. Fall colors sing to me.

Rain

I walked out of my house this morning, and it smelled like rain. You know that smell. I don't have the greatest sense of smell in the world, but I can smell rain on grass and concrete. And to me this morning, it smelled like spring. And I just love a warm rain--it always puts me in this sort of nostalgic mood, and I remember playing with my toy circus as a child, or throwing my window open to the rain in the Bell Apartments, curling up on my bed with my laptop, and writing for a full rainy afternoon. I love the smell of rain.

Seasonal nostalgia

I feel the cool breeze in the morning, and it stirs strange memories within me. I suppose I have nostalgic memories for all the seasons, but autumn's are certainly the strongest. It makes me want to play Evanescence (I'm not sure what the connection is there), and run around Cedar City in the evenings, and carve pumpkins, and get ready for Conference, and do just about anything with my college friends. It makes me feel like I should be busy, ramping up for the new school year, in the midst of shows and homework and who knows what else. It makes me want to watch the West Wing with Gregory, and drink hot chocolate and play the piano. It excites me, until I realize I'm doing none of those things, and then it just makes me lonely. Autumn makes me wish I was back in school with my friends. I can't remember an autumn when I wasn't, and I miss them.

Driving in the rain

Seriously, driving in the rain is one of the scariest and most exhilarating experiences on the planet. I love driving in general, and so to add that extra something...man. Especially with some special driving tunes. The CD Smashley made me for Christmas comes to mind... But really. I just love driving in the rain. It's just one of those things.

On the road again

One more day of journeying, and I will be home to Happy Valley, Utah. On Sunday, I left sunny Erie after a fond farewell to some of my favorite people on the planet. I drove south, heading toward I-70. I passed Columbus (skipped Cleveland), and I passed through Dayton, OH, where I got gas for--to my elation--$3.62/gal. This was the lowest price I saw until that evening, but I'll get to that. I got lunch just before Dayton, eating in the car because I didn't feel like stopping. I passed through Indianapolis in the early afternoon--it was smaller than I thought, passed in a few eyeblinks, long enough to take a crappy camera-phone shot out the window as I drove. I stopped for dinner somewhere between Indianapolis and St. Louis. It was a choice between a Steak and Shake and Denny's, and I went with Denny's purely because I knew if I went to S&S I would have to get dessert. Ergo, Denny's was a form of resistance. :)

I got to St. Louis just as the sun was setting, which (thanks to the smog-cloud) was absolutely beautiful. All I got to see of downtown was a few glances over my shoulder as I headed out toward my aunt's house, but that was good enough for me. I saw the arch and everything, then crossed the Mississippi River into the state of Missouri proper.

I stayed Sunday night and all of Monday at my great aunt's house in St. Louis, mostly to see my great-grandmother. My grandma lived with my family in Orem for about ten years, 1996-2006 (I think). A large, very important chunk of my life, anyhow, spent living across the hall from her. She's 92 now, and she has dimensia. She can't really remember anything from one moment to the next. She has very little to no memory of her life. She spends her days watching old family videos and going through family albums looking at faces that look like strangers to her. She doesn't even recognize herself in the photos. It is, admittedly, very sad to see her like this. But it was still good to see her, good to see that she is as happy as she can be. We talked for awhile. I went through a photo album with her, explaining who everyone is. Afterward she turned to me and said, "Well, you sure know a lot about us!" She asked me every hour or so if I was related to her, and I would explain again who I was. But this morning when she got up, she recognized me from yesterday. That was something, at least. I am glad that I went.

And so today I have journeyed out of miserably hot St. Louis (with the heat index it was 113 degrees yesterday! It's like walking around in a very humid sauna.) I drove across Missouri, then up toward Iowa, then across Nebraska. I listened again to "The Host" on CD, because none of the bookstores I visited had anything more interesting to offer me.

On this note, I have visited Barnes and Nobles across the face of this silly country, and am pleased and disappointed to report that they are all the same, except that the one in Des Moines is still the biggest and most memorable. On this trip alone, I have been to B&N in Orem, UT, Omaha, NE, Des Moines, IA, Cleveland, OH, Erie, PA, St. Louis, MO, and Lincoln, NE. I'm rather proud of that fact, too. But it doesn't help that audio book collections are still limited, and still prohibitively expensive. Phooey.

Tonight I am staying with my aunt and uncle in Kearney, NE. We just got back from a lovely dinner at a steakhouse in town. As they proudly told me--and I heartily believe--Nebraska is well-known for it's beef. I had a delicious filet mignon, preceded by calimari and a house salad. My steak was accompanied by this strange potato dish that none of us really liked much. I cannot recall what it was named, but it wasn't cooked nearly well enough.

Tomorrow I will continue my trek across I-80 home to Utah. I cannot wait to be home, to see my family, Hollie, Ben, Elainabug, the silly dog, my friends, my own bed. Then this weekend I shall be going camping with my birthfather and his family--I don't know yet when we are leaving or when we will be back, but I'm excited to go. I do so love my fambily. But after that, it will be nice just to rest for awhile, before picking up my life and figuring out what to do with it...

The cool parts of the East side

Tonight was the COOLEST thunderstorm! I walked home from work at about 8:30, and seriously just after I walked into my building, the heavens opened up and down came the rain. The lightning came closer and closer, getting closer and closer--I was taking a shower, and lightning came at the same moment as the thunder, bright and loud. So cool! It's still raining, and the cool breeze washes through my apartment, and it's just heavenly. I LOVE weather like this!

Beautiful Sunday

Sometimes I really love being Mormon.

This morning, I was so tired--I didn't go to bed THAT late, but I've spent that last two months or so on a schedule of 2am to bed, 10am to rise, so scaling back to midnight-8am is a challenge, and will have to go back further by next week. Long and short--getting up for church this morning was a challenge.

I got sort of lost driving to church. Last year, a Sister Hodubski drove me to church each Sunday over the summer. I vaguely remembered the way, and I looked on Google Maps, but I still managed to get a bit turned around. However, I just kept going in the right general direction, and I prayed that Heavenly Father would help me find the church. Well, I found Old French Road, and I could remember the way from there, but I was still very thankful when I saw that familiar building on the hill.

I love the church here. It's a different ward this year, since the Erie 2nd Ward now meets at one in the afternoon, and that will probably conflict with my job in a few weeks. But the 1st ward is just as good, and a lot younger. Last year, I saw with grandparents, or couples with kids out to college. The ward this year is mostly young families, with a baby and some toddlers. Its a lot more lively, but still very spiritual. I was greeted by no less than five people before Sunday School started, which is even before the Relief Society nabbed me--I got asked to say the closing prayer almost before they knew my name! So friendly, so outgoing. I admire the members out here, out in the mission field.

Speaking of which--they had four sets of missionaries. Six elders (two of which were Spanish speaking) and two sisters. Isn't that cool? This area isn't that big, but the work goes forward at a rampant pace. I find it thought provoking.

But just in general, it's such a beautiful day. I'm so glad I got up and went to church. It's just these little things that make everything worthwhile. I got to drive through the most beautiful part of Erie this morning on my way to and from church, listening to the Tabernacle Choir in my car. I'm so glad to be here, to be working with these people and the kids to come, to be able to experience what I'm here to do. Oh, and I'm also really glad to have my car. :)

All I can suggest is that you take some time this Sunday to get out of the house and enjoy the sunshine (hopefully you have some, wherever you are) and just enjoy what life (and God) have given you. It's an awesome world, and we're meant to enjoy it.

Drip drip drop little...oh wait

Today is a glorious day.

It's been overcast all day, the smell of rain in the air. If there's anything I like better than rain, its that time on the verge of rain, when the air is cool and full of that glorious smell. There is nothing else quite like it.

I'm heading off to go camping with my birthfather and family this weekend, and the flood warnings should give us a hint toward the weather. However, camping in the rain is nothing new to me of recent days--try cooking in it! (Alas, this story is part of my still-unwritten Arches blog!) But if all weekend could be like today, I would be in heaven.

It's creative weather, my friends. Days like today stir my creative juices. And so the muse descends...

Dude...not cool.

At Sea World last Monday, I got sunburnt.



This photo should help demonstrate--please observe the lines, the redness. Oh yes, very burnt.

Here we are, over a week later, and it still hurts. My arms are a lot better (although still peeling) but the burn on my chest is still excruciatingly painful.

Now, it's my own fault. I take full responsibility. I didn't put on sunscreen, and I wanted to get burnt--just not this bad. Besides the fact that I thought we had aloe vera with us at the time. Nope. And there was none to be found at the grocery store or the little hotel store. You'd think, in sunny California of all places, that they would have loads of the stuff. Nope. None.

But I would also think, a week later, that it would have gone away by now. That upon coming home, I would be able to relax and put some goo on it that would help. But alas, poor unfortunate soul that I am, the curse of Sea World is still upon me, and it makes me angry.

Word to the wise: wear sunscreen. Your potential tan just isn't worth it.

Murphy's Law

I'm supposed to move out--and it rains.

Actually, it was hailing a little while ago. Gotta love Utah weather!

Springtime Intoxication

Maybe we just have days when chaos touches us, like little eddies in the river of worldly sanity.

There is something about this time of year that does something to me. It's moving time. Every year for the last four years, in the last weeks of April and beginning of May, I have prepared to move--sometimes it was home to my parents, sometimes it was just to a different apartment across town. But its definitely getting to be a habit. I think my body can sense the move coming, and it triggers a real, emotional response.

Last year at this time, I was half-packed, the windows were flung open in my upstairs bedroom, and together with my roommate Emily, I was rapidly devouring the Twilight series for the first time. There was--absolute freedom. Of course I had finals, but that semester I didn't have any that I was particularly worried about. I was free to enjoy the springtime air, which is intoxicating in and of itself.

This year the freedom isn't so heady. I'm moving back to my parents house, with no job prospects in the offing, and no real idea of how I will occupy myself (and my checkbook) for the next two months. But that springtime air still does something to me. It makes me want to sleep with all the windows open, if not outside entirely. It stirs my creative juices, and makes me want to delve into a delicious new book. Though, I don't think anything will stir me the way Twilight did. I think I read it at the absolutely perfect time.

It makes me want to go to Red Cliffs with the gang, or down to St. George to enjoy the roses at the temple, with a trip to Larsens after. And most of all, it makes me want to hop in my car and drive forever--just keep on driving with the sun behind me and the wind in my hair. This is the power the season holds on me--and I don't mind one bit.

Infinite Possibility

Today, I wore my Scrubs of Infinite Possibility, and what a day for them it was!

This evening, I went to see The Forbidden Kingdom with the Walles (my birthfather and co). So good. Of course it was a kung fu movie, but it had a decent plot, and Michael Angarano didn't make too big a fool of himself. There's nothing like seeing Jackie Chan and Jet Li together--fighting with AND against each other, alternately. :)

Leaving the theater, it was absolutely beautiful out. Warm, slightly foggy, with a bright, almost-full moon. I love the feel of the wind in my hair, as cliche as that may sound. It awakens a sense of adventure.

Driving home, I looked out over the valley, glowing in the moonlight, and I just wanted to keep driving, forever. It was a night of infinite possibility, and I felt like I could go anywhere, do anything, and it would be wonderful.

I came home and sat out on the swingset for awhile talking to Dixy. It's too fine a night just to go straight inside and to bed. The wind carries the promise of summer in it--warmth and adventure mixed to perfection. Of course there is more bad weather to come first, but summer is coming, just like the good times that will win out when hope prevails.

Day 3: Photos Abound

It's not even funny how excited I was to finally see Wicked.

The Oriental was a beautiful, very ornate theatre. You never would guess from their exteriors how exquisite these buildings are behind the facade. If only I could have taken pics inside...

Thus these are mostly pictures of the marquee. I wanted to take pictures inside, but Nick couldn't handle the crush of people.







I had this thing with taking pictures of the theatres downtown. It was the only time I allowed myself to be a "tourist" and snap photos--because this is what I was in Chicago for: the theatre.





Overall, Day Three was brief and spent mostly at the airport. Nick left early in the morning to catch his flight. Then I had a great interview with Rick Cunningham from Delaware-PTTP. Just really great. This was after helping a little old man cross the street. I'd never pictured myself as that kind of person, the one to stop and help the little old people cross the street, but there I was in Chicago with an octagenarian on my arm, chatting about the snow and the public transportation system.

After checking out of the hotel, I took the El back to O'Hare, where my flight was delayed several times because of fog. I ended up arriving in SLC nearly two hours late, but my dear Christopher is patient, and came to pick me up once we had finally landed.

So I'm back in Taylorsville, heading back into real life again, keeping my fingers crossed for the next nervewracking month and a half before I find out about grad school, and who knows what else.

Day 2: Photos to Come

Day Two began at an obscenely early hour with Nick's alarm. Despite the fact that I had no interviews, Nick made me get up and out of bed. I guess he needed emotional support. :) I encouraged him to go over to the Palmer House and see if Ron Schaeffer from UMKC was still around and could interview with him. So off he went, for nearly three hours. I chilled at the hotel. It was spectacular. Nick came back, having successfully gotten the interview. We talked for awhile, and then out we went.

We had heard that The Goodman offered student tickets for ten bucks. Conveniently, our hotel is only a couple blocks down the street, so we walked down to the theatre. Currently playing is Shining City, which neither Nick or I had ever heard of. The synopsis reminded us a bit of Blithe Spirit. We decided to look around a bit more. Just down the street is the Oriental, which just so happened to be playing Wicked. Now, Nick had already seen Wicked in Chicago, so I was quite hesitant to suggest it, but fortunately he is a loving soul, and he agreed to see it again. So we bought tickets, learning only after purchase that we were attending the 2:00 matinee. We had been planning to go to The Art Institute during the afternoon, and I'm still a little bummed that we didn't get to go. But I wouldn't have given up Wicked for the world!

So, with our afternoon suddenly consumed, we went to a little corner bakery/sandwich shop, where I had a great "uptown turkey" sandwich. Nick and I talked about the pros and cons of revolving doors, while freezing every time someone went in or out of the place. Then we went to Borders to kill time before the show. Nick and I discussed the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer, we talked about the Beatles and "Across the Universe", and we seriously delved into the graphic novel section. Nick bought a book of poetry while I seriously resisted a CD and the entire graphic novel section. Then it was off to Wicked.

I heard the soundtrack of Wicked about a month after it opened. A friend of mine went to see it on Broadway, and brought back the CD. This was probably my junior year of high school? Anyway, he got a couple of us together one afternoon, and told us that we just had to come listen to a couple songs. We got in his car after school and just sat there for an hour and a half at least, just listening to the whole thing through. Fell in love with it instantly, and brought this love to many other friends along the way.

So, seeing it at last, in Chicago of all places...nothing like it, my friend, nothing like it in the world. The set was huge and mechanical, the lighting was just fantastic, some really cool moments. The costumes were weird, though I kind of expected that. Why Galinda wears white for so long, I will never know. Defying Gravity was everything I expected it to be. Oh, but the Galinda was weird. Her character choices were very strange, I don't know if they're unique to this actress, but she was jerky and awkward and I didn't much care for her. Because of where our seats were (I think) it was sometimes hard to hear, especially Elphaba (which was stinky), and we had this terrible usher! He kept walking up and down the side aisle right next to us, and during "For Good", he stood behind us making this awful noise, like he was jangling keys or something, it was so loud and distracting! I was hoping Nick would get up and say something, but alas. Overall, though, great experience. I am SO glad we went. Totally worth my forty bucks.

After the show, we went back to our hotel. Incidentally, it was a long freaking show. Nearly three hours, including intermission. At any rate, we took a scenic walk through the freezing, windy streets back to our hotel. It was actually quite beautiful. Back at the hotel, we turned on The Superbowl. Last year was the first year I watched it, and I found the experience quite enjoyable, so I didn't mind a repeat. We watched maybe an hour of the game before we both started to get hungry. I decided that, seeing as how we were in Chicago, we should go out for some deep-dish pizza. (It also seemed like a good Superbowl-watching food.) So, after asking our friendly doorman for a suggestion, we headed two blocks down to Giordano's for some pizza and football.

As we ate our delicious fried calimari and spinach-mozzarella pizza, it started seriously snowing outside. We're talking horizontal, the wind was so strong sometimes. Oh, and by the way? When you're walking on the sidewalks in Chicago, you have to beware of falling ice. Nick and I almost died. Anyway, we watched the Superbowl, until--at three minutes left on the clock--the satellite gave out in the storm. We, and all the other customers in the place, waited for the game to come back on, but in vain. So we hunted for our waitress, left an outrageous tip because we just wanted to get out of there, and off we went into the storm. My poor new shoes were not up to the inches of snowfall, but we were laughing hysterically by the time we got back.

We thought the game was over when we got the TV on in our hotel room, but there was thirty seconds left on the clock, and we watched the madness of the false end to the game, the Giants thought they had won, but one second remained. Down again, and then it was over, the Patriots defeated in their hopes of a clean season sweep.

Then we settled down to watch a special episode of House. About three-quarters of the way through, Nick went to plug in his phone and realized he didn't have it. We scoured the room, missing the end of the episode, but determined he had left it at the restaurant. Poor soul, he had to trudge through the snow, back to the grumpy manager of the pizzeria to get his phone--but at least he got it! And now he is reading Bukowski and feeling intellectual, I suppose.

Nick flies out early tomorrow, leaving me alone at the hotel. I have my interview with Delaware in the morning, then I get to entertain myself until my four pm flight. I have a book with me that I'm sure could keep me occupied for awhile. Maybe I'll just ride the Central loop and see Chicago. It's certainly an appealing place.

Chicago: Day 1

From where this picture was taken, you can see my hotel. Unfortunately, from where this picture was taken, you can't see the Sears Tower today, because it's cloudy, foggy, and cold. Not that cold has anything to do with picture taking, except perhaps the photographer's ability to point and click, fingers being frozen.

Other than the weather, though, Chicago is great! It's a really great city. Of course, I love most cities, but Chicago is definitely one of the most interesting I've visited. The people here are very friendly. They also walk the streets in large numbers very late at night. Seriously, eleven o'clock in the evening, the sidewalks still full of people. Maybe they were all out-of-towners?

My flight from SLC got canceled, supposedly due to mechanical problems. True answer? Delta Airlines is one giant corporate cheapskate. No joke. There were maybe fifteen people waiting for the 200-passenger plane. So what does Delta do? That's right.

However, waiting for the flight along with me was none other than Matt Neves--SUU Arts Admin MFA Director extraordinaire. Those of you who know Matt Neves probably know my opinions about him, and those of you who don't, don't need to. Suffice it to say--I was very grateful that he got me bumped up to first class on the next flight, very grateful that he got me a meal voucher so I didn't starve to death at the airport, and very grateful that he didn't talk to me the whole way there.

Speaking of the meal voucher--I was waiting in line at the Cinnabon (healthy, I know, but I simply could not resist the smell of cinnamon with seven dollars of Delta's money in my hand), I met this random old guy in line. I accidentally bumped into him, and he dripped Starbucks on his hand. I felt awful. Then a little further down the line, he laughed at me as I tried (rather unsuccessfully) to get napkins out of the absolutely retarded dispenser. Only a little further down than that, he started talking to me. (=Tweener) He asked me where I was heading, what I was doing. He has a niece in theatre, so he was enthusiastic in his questions. But then I asked him where he was going. He and his wife were going to Africa for two weeks to work at a medical clinic fighting AIDS, and to go hiking. Not safari-venturing, just hiking. He listed off about a dozen things they wanted to see, all of them humanitarian. I don't know how on earth they'll get everything done they want to do while they're there, but his enthusiasm was really catching. I ordered my Cinnabon and a large OJ, then wished him well. On the way out, I stopped to greet his wife, whom he had pointed out, waiting for him just beyond the cash register. I wished her good luck in Africa, then went on my way.

Once in Chicago, I grabbed my pink duffel and headed off, through the cavernous airport underground, past the music makers dancing in the corridors, to the L. The El? I haven't determined how people actually spell the colloquial reference to the CTA--the elevated train that runs through Chicago and its suburbs. Let me tell you, it took a lot longer to get downtown from the airport than I expected. The burbs go on forever. The L was fun, though. I saw a lot of interesting people, heard their voices and got into the rhythm. I like Chicago.

The hotel, Club Quarters is under construction. The doorman liked me. I sat in the lobby for nearly an hour, waiting for Nick while he finished an interview, and we got talking about the crap that's on TV. There was a lubricant commercial on, and he burst out, "That's just the next thing to porn! And my kid's watching that?" Things weren't like that in his day.

As it turns out, our interviews were all scheduled for Saturday, not Sunday. Nick and I still haven't figured out where we messed up. All the paperwork I've dredged up from the depths of my email say Saturday--though, never in a clearly distinguishable place. I got lucky--both of my interviewers let me reschedule with them. Still waiting to see on Nick's.

Walking back to our hotel from the Palmer House at eleven o'clock last night, a man stopped me on a street corner. I thought he was going to ask me for change, but rather, he asked me for directions. "Where's the Union Station?" he asked. I couldn't quite hear him, so he asked me again where he could find the Union station. I apologized and told him I wasn't from here, that I didn't know. He thanked me for helping. Some people passed by us, and he called out to them, but they just kept walking. "Can't get any help," he said sadly. They probably thought he was asking for change, too.