July 9, 2010
Red Line passes…
Okay okay. Here it goes: I’m sorry.
You happy? I’ve officially apologized for not writing a blog in 39 days. But now I’m in Chicago, the anticipation is over and life is either reverting back to “normal” or completely the opposite. I haven’t decided yet, and I’m not sure if it’s my decision to make. While my last month-plus in Jackson was somewhat busy and somewhat lazy, I can’t say that I particularly missed updating 90% Munz, but I will admit that there was some regret in not posting anything during that time. That’s not to say I did not try, though! No, no. Quite the contrary. I have four unfinished blogs that I planned on posting, and will probably post eventually. With the exclusion of my weekly Triple Shots, they are:
a.) “Lady Gaga, Antichrist?”
b.) “10 Ways to Achieve Happiness in the 21st Century”
c.) “Don’t Idle, American!”
d.) “Hollywood Homicide”
How soon these will be posted is uncertain. For now, over the course of the next six weeks, I promise to (read that correctly: p-r-o-m-i-s-e) post continuous blogs while the Chicago humidity surges in and out of my pores and the Red Line train whooshes past my bedroom window every couple minutes. So! It begins.
The flight, if you must ask, was uneventful and trying on my psyche and comfort levels. From Denver to Chicago the man sitting next to me chowed down on a tuna salad wrap that was no doubt purchased from an airport kiosk that both reeked like dumpster and dripped down his shirt like slobber. Now, I’m sure he wasn’t trying to take up two seats (he was only about 160lbs) but he sure made every unconscious effort to, stealing my elbow rest and V-ing his legs–no longer than mine–as if to air out his crotch. Picture me snuggled against the window, reading Christopher Hitchens’s “god is Not Great” eagerly waiting for the 2-hour flight to end so I can see my feet again.
Red Line clunks by…
Either way, Tommy C. picked me up at O’Hare and we took the long drive into the city. In what normally takes 30 minutes, we achieved in 40 due to “typical” summer traffic jams. I freak out at home when it takes longer than 7 to get from the Town Square to the New Post Office, so if I wasn’t so enraptured by the less-than appealing sight of an American freeway, or if I was driving, I probably would have honked my horn once or thrice. We passed daring cyclists and dog-walkers (just like home!) and eventually made it to the apartment building I had only dreamt about.
As you can see, the apartment is gorgeous and is in a prime spot in relation to the iO Theater where my improv intensive will take place. I walked to the theater in the sweltering heat in order to check out its location before my classes start on Monday. I couldn’t have been more unprepared for the humidity. As I walked my lungs felt heavy and sweat fell down my neck like rainwater. Just like Ferris Bueller’s hand-licking trick to fool your parents that you’re sick, my hands were clammy and sticky. But walking through the city certainly toyed with my head. I thought everyone who walked behind me wanted to rob me; I kept stupidly feeling for my wallet. It’s a feeling I’ll get over soon, I’m sure, but for now, better to be safe than…well…stupid.
Red Line keeps rollin’…
“It’s just white noise to us,” said Tommy C of the train. He and his wife Tesha S.C. are amazing hosts and I couldn’t have been placed in a more welcome environment. Tesha S.C.’s sister, and my Laff Staff cohort, Kjera S.H., is coming tomorrow and I can’t wait to do a bit of downtown exploring. Tonight I had my first taste of a real Chicago deep dish pizza. Pepperoni, onion, green peppers and a whole lotta deep, buttery crust. Vicious, vicious food. (Side Note: While ‘vicious’ is a ridiculous pseudo-synonym for ‘amazing’, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s misplaced or unnecessary, and I shall continue to use it.)
We then finished off the day couch lounging watching “Oceans Thirteen” edited for USA HD. Tomorrow? A whole new day.
Red Line passes…
And I sleep.