And every day's the same

That's pretty much how every day is. There's a few meals in between, but same locations and same times. And it's all for

I Love Livin' in the City

I think my perspective’s changed from a couple weeks ago. I love living here, and I don’t even really live here. I get up early and watch law lectures at Kent, then go to the library, then straight back home. But those moments in between: riding on the L (which should really be the “El”); going to the Mexican grocery store; riding Brian’s bike across Humboldt Park; catching snippets of the Blackhawks game; making eye contact with thousands of strangers. This is what life is meant to be for a young person (if I consider myself to be one).

When you look at the running theme of success, you’ll find the time tested strategy of delayed gratification. It’s essentially giving up something that feels good now for something that feels even better later. The most common illustrations of this concept are practicing an instrument to triumph at a recital, or studying for an exam and getting an A. My favorite example comes from waif model Kate Moss who said, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” People use that quote as an example of everything that’s wrong with fashion models, but really, it’s an excellent paradigm of victory. Kate Moss loves the taste of deep dish pizza just as much as the next 21st century human, but she denies herself because the satisfaction of comfortably exposing her naked fat-free body to millions of strangers outweighs any short-term satisfaction that may come from a fleeting culinary delight. Kate Moss is the modern day worker ant in a world of morbidly obese grasshoppers.

When I was living in New York, having the time of my life, I bought into the delayed gratification ideology and decided to pack up and head north for law school. My reasoning at the time was that, while I would be giving up on all the amazing things that New York City has to offer a post-college man in his early 20s, I would be able to triumphantly return to the city in three years with an advanced professional degree and career prospects that would deliver far more satisfaction than a B.A. and a job stocking cheese. Now I’m not so sure I made the right decision.

It’s been three years, I have the degree, but I don’t have the job. In fact, I don’t think I really even have the prospects. I’m back in a large metropolitan city, which I like, but I can’t help but to think of all the good times I’ve missed out on. There’s no denying it, ages 23-26 are for cutting loose. No indiscretions from that period of time will be held against you, except for maybe murder, but even then, we’re all young at one point.

There’s no doubt gratification was properly delayed, but will it work out? So far, the answer is a qualified “no.” I see myself as being in the exact same spot, but down three years that I’ll never get back. But what I really want to say is I’m still glad I’m here. I’m glad I’m in a place where youth and possibilities run rampant. Of course I miss her, and the job search anxiety is palpable, but being here, with three years in the rearview mirror, I’m confident that this is where I belong. I know that this feels right. And I feel gratified.

Your guns are pointed

The wrong way.

Northwest apartment, apartment

I haven't had a chance to explore other neighborhoods, but based on my limited knowledge, Logan Square is an above average part of Chicago. Particularly for me. Not me as in me, I mean me as a representative of my race, education, gender, income, and interests. I'm just the single human manifestation of a larger group. I'd imagine that if I'd walked into a Chicago real estate office and asked someone where I should live, they would probably recommend Logan Square. It may not work out for me, but sociologically for me, it already has.

When all the parts equal more than the sum

Packing always takes longer than you think it's going to take. I've found that, ironically, the better pack-rat you are, the worse packer you are. This is because if you truly excel at storing your belongings in a given space, you will not be able to accurately assess the amount of time it will take to re-pack said belongings into small containers, because they are so well hidden within said space.

I didn't finish loading everything into my car until about 7:30am on Saturday, which left very little time for sleeping since I had to show the room to a potential subletter (no dice) at 9:45am.
Immediately after the open house presentation I hit the road. I wore my special driving socks.
If you're planning a road trip and want to get the most bang for your buck, upstate New York, along the I-90, is your best bet. I went through Whitehall, Ticonderoga (home of Fort Ticonderoga), Saratoga (home of Benedict Arnold's boot), Schenectady (home of Synecdoche, NY), Erie Canal, Syracuse, Seneca Falls (home of 1st Wave Feminism), Rochester, and Buffalo (home of Antonios Dimoulas). If I had more time, I would've detoured to Niagra Falls and the state capital. It's a haul to do in one sitting, but it would make for an awesome weekend retreat.



I divided my trip into two days and spent the night in Ohio. I don't know if every Red Roof Inn does this, but the one in Cleveland gave me a coupon for a free breakfast from Burger King when I checked out. Score!

Indiana punishes people for driving across their state.It cost about $10 to drive laterally across the Hoosier state. It was literally highway robbery. Had I known that would be the cost, I would've paid to have me and my car loaded on a plane and flown from Toledo Express to Midway, just to spite that eyesore of a state.

You can't really tell from this picture,...but one of the visitor centers I drove past housed a Red Burrito which, for the uninitiated, is horrendous. It serves the worst Mexican food/food I've ever had. I have no idea how this chain exists. It's hard to imagine that a Mexican fast food franchise that serves lower quality chow than Del Taco can keep it's doors open. I guess it makes sense that you can only find them in the middle-Midwest where the greatest culinary triumph of the last 6-centuries is corn on the cob.

You know how there's those KFC/Taco Bell combination restaurants? Red Burrito is what KFC and Taco Bell would be if, not just their addresses, but their menus were combined, and then sluiced with mayo.




Eventually I made it to Chicago. My new domicile.