Wednesday, November 23, 2011

your first chicago winter.

ashten,

you've been in chicago for three months as of yesterday, and you're unstoppable. I see how you're living large at twenty two, and I wish I had had the gumption to throw myself into living in this city like you have.

...but that's all about to change.

winter is coming.

each winter I promise myself that it will be my last. I wish I had known what I was getting into. in actuality, I wouldn't have believed it. coming from Texas, below freezing didn't exist for me. snow brought the welcome excuse to get out of school. I was obsessed with coats not because of the fashion, but because of the novelty. (a wool peacoat? who needs that. it's 60 degrees outside in december in Texas.) Most, if not all, of my christmas memories don't include big fat puffy snowflakes on my tongue -- they are of me riding on my tricycle in my bathing suit, licking a cherry creamsicle.


there are no christmas creamsicles in chicago.




Here's what you need to know. 

CLOTHES

 

 Boots: you need a pair of ass-kicking, waterproof boots. boots that have traction and that will hold up to snow piles over your knees. none of these Uggs. you'll WANT to wear them, but you'll slip and fall on your ass. for the first whole year, I wore rainboots and three pairs of socks each day. I just regained feeling in my toes from that winter


Laundry in Winter: having a washer and dryer in your apartment in Texas is a given. having a washer and dryer down the block is Chicago is a dream. for us in our current apartment, you will have to do laundry during the winter, no matter how hard you try not to. and you will need to suit up to get it. and sometimes you might need to shovel snow to get to the basement. 



Layers: The first time I saw that it was going to be a windchill of -20 degrees, I just stood and stared at the TV, wide-eyed. what does that even feel like? what does one WEAR for negative twenty below? I decided to step outside only in my pajamas to feel it....just one step. immediately, I turned around on my heels and darted back inside. was it a faux pas to wear every single piece of clothing I owned? 

you will end up carrying a change or two of clothes around with you at all times. you will have your inside clothes (flats for work, ruffly tops for work...) and you will have your outside clothes (coats that would make the Michelin man blush, two pairs of socks under your knee high boots, leggings to wear under your pants...) you will never be comfortable in winter - you will either always be too hot or too cold.  


Long Coats: your happiness is directly related to how warm your crotch is. there is no shame in buying a coat that resembles a sleeping bag. no one wants an icy vagina.  




The Power of the Glove: at times, I've caught myself wearing two pairs of gloves. this will be annoying to you because you have an iphone. don't worry about texting, and worry more about keeping warm enough to stay alive. no joke. and always wear a hat and a scarf. hats make a world of difference. sometimes hats won't match your scarf, and sometimes you'll have two mismatched gloves, and that's okay. you can always turn a glove inside out to make a glove for that one glove that lost its mate. always keep a pair of gloves with you, in case you lose yours in the snow. you'll appreciate it when you do.
 


Wet Hair: wet hair means frozen hair. trust me on this one. your hair can break off. like, O-F-F off. 



Smoking: if you smoke now, you won't in the winter. everyone quits in the winter. you want warmth over the nicotine. but, if you do brave smoking outside, designate a pair of gloves as your "smoking gloves." if not, your hands will smell like smoke for the rest of your days. 



Salt: you will find yourself with these funny white lines all over your boots, shoes, coats and pants. and yes Virginia, they're salt lines. salt is the only thing that will melt ice outside. but it will stay on your boots until you shine them.

BE AWARE:



Snow: the first snow is magical. then it just keeps coming. and gets muddy. and gets grey and brown. and you can see exactly where your neighbor's dog or your resident street homeless man has peed. then the snow is not so magical anymore. 



Static Electricity: it's real. it exists. and it was the bane of my existence. you will shock everything with your fingertips. passing credit cards at the bar, turning off lights in the apartment...everything. also, static electricity can travel through your puffy jacket coat pocket into your ipod buds and shock you inside your ears. that could be the worst feeling ever. 



Shoveling Snow: I thought it would be effortless. shoveling snow seems so fun in pictures. families laughing. piling themselves into the big snow piles that they just created by clearing their sidewalk. that's a lie. shoveling snow is like shoveling mud. your heart races under the strain, you get sweaty underneath your puffy coat, but you'll freeze if you shovel with bare arms. you were lied to.



Black Ice: I was first introduced to black ice in Buffalo, NY after I fell on my ass out of no where in a parking lot. this stuff is sneaky. patches of black ice look like puddles of water, but they're slicker than owl shit. once you stepped on black ice, there's no stopping you from falling and landing on your ass. you won't be sure what hurts worse -- the melon sized bruise forming on your tailbone, or your pride. 




Winter Winds: if you didn't know, Chicago is called the 'windy city' NOT because of the wind, but because of the politicians. but no one seemed to clue in mother earth about that. the tall building serve as funnels for the wind and, if you're anywhere near the lake, you can be fighting winds up to 40 mph on any given day.




Falling Ice: I thought this was bullshit when I first saw the signs on Michigan Ave...until I saw a chunk of ice the size of a microwave crash down from the 90th floor of the John Hancock Center to the ground 10 feet in front of me. tall buildings are especially susceptible to ice build up on their top floors. and when the ice falls, it won't stop until it hits the ground or a person. I live in a constant state of fear entering work from the first frost until June. 




Darkness Falls: it gets dark in Chicago by 4pm in the winter. so, with you working at Starbucks and Steppenwolf, I'm pretty sure you won't see the sun for four months.




Pipes Freezing: you'll think to yourself: "I'll save money on the gas bill when I head home to Texas for Christmas. I'll turn off the heat. why should I heat an empty apartment?" and you'll think wrong. water in your pipes will freeze, bursting your pipes and spraying water all over your apartment. I thought I was being cost-effective my first winter by turning off my heat. I ended up having to frantically call my landlord from Texas when my mother found out what I had done.




Gas/Heating Bill: Never had a monthly gas bill that totaled over $300 before? that will shortly change. no matter HOW LOW you keep the heat--no matter how many nights you go to bed feeling like a Popsicle....you'll still have to pay this much. this is a giant mystery to all Chicagoans. 




Heaters and Electric Blankets: get one. of each. I'm not kidding. at any given time in the winter, I have both my electric blanket on high and my space heater on high. the heaters on the CTA train platforms will be a lifesaver. remember how Chicago is windy? It's windier on train tracks. you'll accidentally make it to second base with all the other people crammed under the CTA heater, but it's worth it. occasionally, you'll get the feeling like you're a french fry shoved in the box, being kept warm by the harsh glow of the heater above. and, you'll be right. it's a lot like that. 




Cracked Lips and Fingertips: No matter how many times you apply chapstick or how many gloves you wear, your skin will crack because of the icy winds. invest in vaseline. use it like you're getting paid to use it. 




Street Cleaning/Snow Plowing: this is a great use of Chicago tax money. truly. unless you don't drive, and it's the biggest pain in the ass. snow plows do just that....plow snow. but they plow snow onto the sidewalks. snow piles from drifts and plows can reach over 7 feet tall. a 7 foot tall mountain that you have to scale in 10 seconds if you want to catch that departing #145 bus. and lord help you if you get caught in a CTA glass bus stop when the snow plows come by. you'll be caught in a world of muddy, snowy hurt. 




Blizzards: blizzards are Chicago's excuse to get drunk. and get drunk we do. sometimes the power goes out. sometimes the gas goes off. sometimes your internet and cable are down, and the only thing that is keeping you sane is that bottle of gin and a puzzle. I came up with fifty names for the blizzard of 2011 in my drunken haze, including "Snowtorious I.C.E" and "Blizznasty." also, don't scoff when someone tells you there will be a blizzard. buy toilet paper, ramen, and booze. I laughed when people told me to stock up for the impending blizzard. then, three days later, I found myself using brightly printed birthday napkins to wipe my ass. I had no diet coke, no food, and no will to live.







it seems like a lot. and it is. and I know I'm missing really important things to remind you. but, think of the bright side -- there are only two seasons in Chicago: winter and construction.



welcome to chicago, smash. :)

Saturday, November 20, 2010

1918

Derrick Brown's 1918


When we were just stamps and paper,
she tattooed a year on her arm: 1918.
The year time zones were made law by train companies for America,
she imagined us above time.

There was a thing.
I felt a thing roar along the tunnels of my ears,
like Santa Ana winds through a pipe organ.

She hissed a heavy weather kiss into me,
like a child whispering into a stethoscope: I need you.

We would drive as far as we could afford,
her eyes illuminating the yellow French fries of paint
streaming under our car along the dark interstate.

We tried to call it something.
We tried to name this feeling between being born alone and being dead.

We drove through every cemetery until we realized
there are still birds flying the world without names.

I fell into a swimming pool of water and engraved bullets.
Holding my breath, I imagined all those knuckle-dragoned stiletto monkeys who tried to take you out and tried to take you from me.

I found both our names on some .50 cal rounds and swam to the surface with bullets in my teeth,
and your parents’ stubborn will,
I said your parents’ blood lines and quiet disappointment could not steal this.

I know your father loved the car more than you.
Still he couldn’t keep it running.

We drive to make the car something good again,
bullets hanging from the rearview mirror.
Man, we are brief.
We are brief.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

A Finger Two Dots Then Me

"A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me"
(The Poem I'd Like My Future Wife to Read When I Finally Crap Out)
by Derrick C. Brown




I guess people love this poem the most. Maybe cause it explains what happens to us when we die in a way that might seem possible. Actually, I have no idea why this one is the most popular. This was written after I had read an article about a father who laid out a blanket for himself and his son in a park by my house, then planned on killing both but after he killed his son with the shotgun, he tried to kill himself but screwed it up and lived. I wanted to coat the wickedness of that scene with something romantic and kind of funny so the park won't hold that memory fast for me. Beauty is born from tragedy.

Lying together in the park on Seventh,
our backs smoosh grass and I say
I will love you till I become a child again,
when feeding me and bathing me is no longer romantic,
but rather necessary.

I will love you till there is no till.
Till I die.
And when that electroencephalogram shuts down, baby
that's when the real lovin' kicks in.

Forgive me for sounding selfish
but I won't be able to wait under the earth for you
(albeit a romantic thought for groundhogs,
gophers and the gooey worms).
I will not be able to wait for you...

but I will meet up with you
and here's where you will find me:
get a pen--

Hold your finger up
(two fingers if your hands are frail by now)
and count two stars directly to the left
of the North American moon.
You will find me there.
You will find me darting behind amazing quasars
Behind flirtatious winks
of bright and blasting boom stars!

Sometimes charging so far into space
the darkness goes blue.
I will be there chasing sound waves
riding them like two-dollar pony ride horses
that have finally broken free and wild.
I will be facing backwards, lying sideways,
no hands, sidesaddle, sometimes standing
sometimes screaming zip zang zowie!
My God, it's good to be back in space... Where is everybody?

You will recognize my voice.
You will see the flash of a fire trail
burning off the back of me
burning like a gasoline comet kerosene sapphire.
This is my voice.
Don't look for my body or a ghost.
I'll resemble more a pilot light than a man now.

I'm sure some will see
this cobalt star white light from earth
and cast me a wish like a wonder bomb.
And I'll think "Hmmph. people still do that?"

I'm sure I'll take the light wonder bombs
to the point in the universe
where sound does end.
The back porch of God's summer home.

It's so quiet here, you float.
It feels the way cotton candy tastes.

I say to him... why do I call you God?
He says 'Because Grand Poobah sounds ridiculous.'
(Who knew he was so witty?)
I ask him 'Lord, so many poets have tried to nail it and missed, what is holy?'

At that moment,
the planets begin to spin and awaken
and large movie screens appear on Mars, Saturn and Venus
each bearing images I have witnessed
and over each and every clip flashes the word holy.

armadillos--holy
magic tricks--holy
cows' tongues--holy
snowballs upside the head--holy
clumsy first kisses--holy
sneaking into movies--holy
your mother teaching you to slow dance
the fear returning
the fear overcome--holy
eating top ramen on upside-down frisbees
cause it was either plates or more beer--holy
drunk beach cruiser nights--holy
the $5.00 you made in vegas
and the $450.00 you lost--holy
the last time you were nervous holding hands--holy
feeling God at a pool hall but not church--holy
sleeping during your uncle's memorized dinner prayer--holy
losing your watch in the waves and all that signifies--holy
the day you got to really speak to your father cause the television broke--holy
the day your grandmother told you something meaningful
cause she was dying--holy
the medicine
the hope
the blood
the fear
the trust
the crush
the work
the loss
the love
the test
the birth
the end
the finale
the design
in the stars
is the same
in our hearts
the design
in the stars
is the same
in our hearts
in the rebuilt machinery of our hearts

So love, you should know what to look for
and exactly where to go...

Take your time and don't worry about getting lost.
You'll find me.
Up there, a finger and two dots away.
If you're wondering if I'll still be able to hold you
...I honestly don't know

But I do know that I could still fall for
a swish of light that comes barreling
and cascading towards me.

It will resemble your sweet definite hands.
The universe will bend.
The planets will bow.
And I will say "Oh, there you are. I been waitin' for ya. Now we can go."

And the two pilot lights go zoooooooom
into the black construction paper night

as somewhere else
two other lovers lie down on their backs and say
"What the hell was that?"

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

bucket list.

In no particular order:
  •  Learn to play the Harmonica
  • Attend Burning Man in California
  • Live in California
  • Learn to speak another language fluently
  • Get a tattoo (one that, hopefully, I won't regret)
  • Go to Paris
  • Learn how to hoolah hoop. (Hula Hoop?)
  • Learn how to ice skate
  • Own a vespa
  • Take a trapeze class
  • Visit all the US States
  • Visit all the continents
  • Write (and perform) my own poetry
  • Be an extra in a feature film
  • Visit Amsterdam, and try to remember what happened
  • Travel to India to celebrate Holi
  • Run a marathon
    • Or run a mile in ten minutes. whichever comes first.
  • Watch a space shuttle launch
  • Visit the Tower of Pisa
  • Own a dog
  • Learn to play guitar
  • Go to Mardi Gras
  • Backpack through Europe
  • Ride in a limo
  • Attend High Tea at somewhere really ritzy
  • Live in London
  • Pet a manatee
  • Go streaking
  • Be a part of a flash mob
  • Learn to drive a stick shift
  • Complete a Rubix Cube without cheating
  • Get my Master's Degree
  • Take scores of hip hop classes
  • Meet Dalai Lama
  • High-five Obama
  • Sit at the edge of a cliff/mountain
  • Pick apples at an orchard
  • Stomp Grapes
  • Be a part of a professional photography session
  • Bike across a state
  • Have a sloth as a pet
  • Have a pig as a pet
  • Have an elephant as a pet
  • Become ambidextrous
  • Play the bass flute and contrabassoon
  • Fire a gun
  • Go paintballing
  • Zipline
  • Learn to juggle
  • Drive Route 66
  • Learn to double dutch
  • Zorb
  • Get vagazzled
  • Learn how to cook
  • Edinburgh Fringe Festival
  • Learn Banjo
  • Learn all countries and capitals
  • Read Harry Potter
  • Let go of 99 balloons
  • Learn how to roller skate
  • Achieve zero debt
  • Learn to play poker
  • Ride my bike everyday to work in the summer 2012
  • Vegan for a month
  • Go to Mexico
  • Fall Colors in New England
  • Donate Blood
  • Ride a motorcycle alone
  • Sumo Wrestling
  • Indoor Sky Diving
  • Bounce House
  • Dunk Tank
  • Pie Throwing Booth
  • Kissing Booth
  • Sauna
  • Quit smoking OR learn to roll my own cigarettes
  • Attend a music festival in another country
  • WWOOF
  • World Wife Carrying Championships
  • Go to Dollyworld
  • Chiditarod
  • Rubber Ducky Derby
  • Stowaway 
  • Kentucky Derby//Ascot Horse Race
    • Bet on a horse race


    Well...it's a start.

    It gets better?

    Wednesday, April 7, 2010

    my favorite cartoon

    I think this explains my sense of humor better than I ever could.

    Sunday, April 4, 2010

    and--somehow--the wine.


    Although I tend to lean to the aspects of slam poetry, Billy Collins very well could be my favorite poet despite that. This piece is outstandingly funny, and beautifully written.






    Litany
    By Billy Collins
    You are the bread and the knife,
    The crystal goblet and the wine...
    -Jacques Crickillon


    You are the bread and the knife,
    the crystal goblet and the wine.
    You are the dew on the morning grass
    and the burning wheel of the sun.
    You are the white apron of the baker,
    and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

    However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
    the plums on the counter,
    or the house of cards.
    And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
    There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

    It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
    maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
    but you are not even close
    to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

    And a quick look in the mirror will show
    that you are neither the boots in the corner
    nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

    It might interest you to know,
    speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
    that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

    I also happen to be the shooting star,
    the evening paper blowing down an alley
    and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

    I am also the moon in the trees
    and the blind woman's tea cup.
    But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
    You are still the bread and the knife.
    You will always be the bread and the knife,
    not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

    Saturday, April 3, 2010

    you make me feel so young.

    evasive maneuvers

    Evasive Maneuvers
    By Billy Collins

    I grew up hiding from the other children.
    I would break off from the pack on its patrol of streets every Saturday

    and end up alone behind a hedge
    or down a dim hallway in a strange basement.
    No one ever came looking for me,
    which only added to the excitement.

    I used to hide from adults, too,
    mostly behind my mother’s long coat
    or her floral dress depending on the season.

    I tried to learn how to walk
    between my father’s steps while he walked
    like the trick poodle I had seen on television.

    And I hid behind books,
    usually one of the volumes of the encyclopedia
    that was kept behind the glass in a bookcase,
    the letters of the alphabet in gold.

    Before I knew how to read,
    I sat in an armchair in the living room
    and turned the pages, without a clue

    about the worlds that were pressed
    between D and F, M and O, W and Z.

    Maybe this explains why
    I looked out the bedroom window
    first thing this morning
    at the heavy trees, low gray clouds,

    and said the word gastropod out loud,
    and having no idea what it meant,
    went downstairs and looked it up
    then hid in the woods from my wife and our dog.

    –from Ballistics, copyright 2008 by Billy Collins; Random House

    Tuesday, March 23, 2010

    wise old bird.


    A wise old owl sat in an oak,
    The more he heard, the less he spoke;
    The less he spoke, the more he heard;
    Why aren't we all like that wise old bird?

    something that makes me smile sometimes.

    poem.

    The Four Moon Planet

    "I have envied the four moon planet."
    (The Notebooks of Robert Frost)
    Maybe he was thinking of the song
    "What A Little Moonlight Can Do"
    and became curious about
    what a lot of moonlight might be capable of.

    But wouldn't this be too much of a good thing?
    and what if you couldn't tell them apart
    and they always rose together
    like pale quadruplets entering a living room?

    Yes, there would be enough light
    to read a book or write a letter at midnight,
    and if you drank enough tequila
    you might see eight of them roving brightly above.

    But think of the two lovers on a beach,
    his arm around her bare shoulder,
    thrilled at how close they were feeling tonight
    while he gazed at one moon and she another.
    -Billy Collins

    Sunday, September 20, 2009

    always be prepared for water balloon fights

    So much has happened since my last post. But I suppose that's the nature of the beast, right?

    So, I finished my time over at Northlight Theatre. During my time there, I was given a promotion from Leadership Director to Assistant Camp Director which was thrilling and exciting. At the end of my time over in Skokie, I had some of my good friends from college come by for a whirlwind weekend for Lollapalooza. Absolute brilliance. It was so good for my best friends to see where I had been living for the past three months. :)

    Now? Well I've moved from the Lincoln Park neighborhood to a basement apartment in the Lakeview neighborhood. It's just two red line stops North from where I used to live, and I'm right next to the Theatre Building Chicago....I think that's standard here. You're never more than a block away from a theatre. (Steppenwolf was right outside my old apartment.) Having theatres all over the place is both promising and teetering on the edge of an over-abundance. (It depends on if your glass is half empty or half full.)

    I'm now working over at the Goodman Theatre as the fall Education and Community Programs intern. I work with amazing, challenging people who really love the art they create and the process they are a part of. It's both inspiring and intimidating, but I love working in the heart of downtown Chicago. I'm also planning on working with Dog and Pony at Steppenwolf for their Visiting Company Initiative as the Assistant Producer and Assistant Stage Manager. How I'll factor in time to sleep, I'll never know.

    I have learned so much about myself in the past three months. It's a bit hard to verbalize, but I know that I have so much more to learn as well. Here are ten things I've learned since I came to Chicago in May:

    1.)Wrigleyville on Saturday nights are optimal times to get kissed by homeless people. (But never use tongue. My friend, Chris, told me that this was a sign of weakness.)
    2.)Always be prepared for water balloon fights. Because they will happen to you when you're wearing a nice dress, walking on the sidewalk.
    3.)Do not stare wide-eyed at celebrities, especially if they are coming into work with you.
    4.)Do not use the greeting "Hey Boo..." at work. This is okay in college, but this is not okay in an office setting. Trust me.
    5.)Guerrilla theatre can be really fun. Especially when you play an oxen named Jezebel. And were asked the night before to play this part.
    6.)Nine-year-olds know more than you do. I promise.
    7.)The first time you're really sick (like, H1N1 bad) always happens when you're states away from your mother.
    8.)Set caution to the wind and take yourself out of where you are most comfortable. I have learned more about myself since I have moved here than I have in years of college.
    9.)Downsize your belongings. My life can fit into two suitcases, which is good because I have no idea where my life will take me next.
    10.)Sometimes you miss your family and your best friends from home, but then you know that love will keep you together. (...and tacky postcards. you know. same thing.)



    Saturday, June 13, 2009

    I miss the word home.

    It’s been over a month since I graduated from TCU. Since that time, I’ve moved to Chicago with only one suitcase. I’ve been in Chicago for over two weeks now, working full time as an outside contractor as the Academy’s Leadership Director at Northlight Theatre in Skokie.

    I sleep on a borrowed twin bed. My bedside table is plastic and borrowed from my Aunts. My desk is my roommate’s folding card table from our back porch. My lease is up in August, as well as my contracted job. I have no plans thereafter as of yet, although I am trying to find some.

    I drink organic beer from Trader Joe’s called “Simpler times” on my back porch. My room is decorated with $5 maps from the bookstore next door. I’ve finished two books since I’ve been here already. A homeless man tried to kiss me the first day I was alone in the city. If I stand in the exact right place in my apartment, I can see the Sears tower out of my kitchen window.

    I feel this is going to be the most interesting time in my life.



    I asked a dear friend of mine what the meaning of home was to him. He first said it was where your stuff was. Well, most of my stuff is in Texas, I replied. He then said it was where you sleep. If that’s the case, I think I might have slept more at my Aunt’s house in the past few weeks of being in Chicago than in the apartment I’m renting.

    When does a place become your home? When I studied abroad in London, I had to keep a journal of daily activities that my professors would read. My professor would wait for the day when we would call our flats our home. She would circle it in the journal and write “Ah HA. London is your home as of (whatever date it was.)” I remember mine being pretty early in the game.

    My grandmother was moved from her home of decades in Connecticut to Texas with my family out of sheer necessity for health reasons. Her home is in boxes in my sister’s old room. Her home is repainted, refinished, and being bought. I wonder what it feels like to be tied to something like that. I wonder if I’ll ever let myself feel that. Maybe not.

    I miss when the word home meant something. In the past week, I used the word home in reference to Fort Worth, to Bedford, to TCU, to my place in Chicago, and my Aunt’s place in Skokie.

    I fear that I will never have a location that I can call home. Either of my own or in a generality. People will shift and move, and I will have no ties to the former places that I called home. I suppose that’s the terrifying part of this time. I have no ties. I only owe myself this time.





    “But still I smile because I need to look strong.
    And all the while I soldier along.
    I wanna find me from where I’ve begun.
    But I’m afraid to be who I am,
    Who I want to become.”