McRandomness

I'm a big fan of office supplies, but that's not the only reason I'm halfway-serious about going to this guy's party in September. Cool, huh? One red paper clip. Whoda thunkit? Read his blog for more info.

I want to move to Chicago. I've started looking for a job there. Reasons to move: Hello, it's Chicago. Art Institute. Subways! Ikea. Trader Joe's. Change of scenery. Shedd Aquarium. Hello, it's Chicago. I've wanted to live there since I was 16. Back story: When I was 16, King V was going to Chicago to shoot pictures for an article he was writing. Being summertime, he invited me to go along with him. Jackie Collins book in tow (ouch), I grabbed my purse (wince), donned a white skirt (double wince) and black patent leather shoes (thud), and went with him.

King V dropped me off somewhere downtown and went to take his photographs. I spent the first half of the day sitting in a McDonald's, probably in Water Tower Place, reading my book. Fluffy fiction or not, I was a voracious reader as a teenager. I finally wised up and realized/acknowledged/smacked myself upside the head with the knowledge that I was in, hello, Chicago, and I should be doing something with my time besides reading a book. I went outside, saw that tours on tour buses cost more than I could afford, and decided to hop on the city bus for $1 and take an informal tour of the city. I ended up at Shedd Aquarium for awhile, where I found out that my limit for being inside a dark place surrounded by water before I begin to feel seasick is about an hour. I don't remember what else I did with the day, but I know that I rode the bus back to my starting point, probably did some window shopping, and was waiting at the appointed corner for my dad to pick me up around 5:00 PM.

I just remember really wanting to live in the city after that. It was dirty and noisy and fabulous. My immediate goal is to be in the Windy City by the fall. I think October would be a nice month to move. I've moved in May or June the past four years and I'm sick of moving on hot summer days. I am finally not lease-bound (my landlord is a fool! ha ha!) and I can leave whenever I want. The freedom I feel is almost indescribable. People who have been stuck in apartments and smothered by their accompanying leases (or threat of huge fines if said lease is broken) know what I'm talking about. I will casually look for work over the next few weeks and will begin my job search in earnest after I return from vacation in a few weeks.

Speaking of vacation, I'm headed to the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival in the first part of August. I am beginning to get very excited about going. It's a week of camping and hanging out with friends and flirting and music and should be very nice. I wish I weren't going alone, but Serena can't make it and there's no one else with whom I want to caravan. I've reserved my hotel room for the night before and anticipate sitting in the AC, watching cable (which I don't currently have), and beginning my vacation in style. It will also be nice to be away from my cats and my dickhead neighbors for awhile.

Yep, they're dicks. Sucks, huh? I just moved in about three weeks ago and my space is really nice, but I don't really feel like I belong there. Maybe it's because I got used to smaller spaces, like the apartments I lived in, the dorm room I inhabited, and the room I had in my parents' house until I was *mumblemumble* years old. I have about 1200 square feet, which is ridiculous considering that my biggest possessions are a mattress and a full-size futon. I sit in a camp chair in my cavernous living room and daydream about a matching set of big, stuffed armchairs in which I can snuggle down and read and watch TV. I dream about lamps and having a desk and not feeling like a foreigner when I enter my kitchen. I know that I'm still getting used to the place, but I honestly feel like I'm subletting from someone that belongs there and that I will soon move to a place that feels more me. Hence, Chicago in October.

Maybe I'm just having a hard time adjusting to living in part of a house. I was used to ubiquitous cocoa-brown carpet and whitewashed walls and now have a Smurf-blue living room (which I really like), a sage green bedroom (which I also really like), and a shower stall that requires a shoehorn and some lubricant to get in and out of in the morning. I also have the aforementioned neighbors, who work nights, apparently, and think nothing of coming home at 2:30 AM and clomping around upstairs with their cement-filled feet while juggling -- and dropping -- anvils. I left them a note last night before I went to bed, in which I was as nice as possible about the amount of noise they make after my day-job self goes to bed around 11:00 PM. I also asked them to smoke outside because the smell comes through my vents and is pretty gross. I was a smoker for a number of years and now that I don't smoke so much anymore, the smell is pretty heinous, especially when it poofs into my house every time the AC kicks on.

They saw the note and I think the woman of the couple respected my wishes. The guy? Not so much. Maybe it was just my sensitivity to being woken up at 2:30 AM this morning while he apparently took off his shoes, threw them at the floor, picked them up, and then repeated the series of actions a few times. And then he exchanged his street shoes for wooden clogs directly from Holland and spent some time pacing directly above my head. Suffice it to say, I didn't sleep very well last night. Maybe I'm being unreasonable in my request for them to, oh, I don't know, NOT have a screaming fight in the foyer (which occurred before dawn on Saturday morning) or for them to use their indoor voices when they come busting into our shared hallway, the same that they apparently forget or don't know is right outside my bedroom wall. I am anxious to get into a different space. Next time, *I* am going to be the upstairs neighbor. Maybe I'll just find some farmhouse in the middle of a cornfield and be neighbor-free for awhile. I'd almost take back the guy at my old apartment who turned on his stereo and cranked up the bass every time I went to take a nap on the weekend. Almost.