I LOVE LOUISVILLE, PART 1

Whenever my best girlfriend from high school get together, things get messy. Since she was 18 years old, she wanted to see her favorite band at this particular theater in Louisville; and we just saw two shows there. The first one was mind blowing, and not because I was drunk or really high on mushrooms. It just fucking ROCKED. 

This theater is most beautiful place I have ever seen any show. Ever. And perhaps one of the most amazing indoor places I have ever been in. And that's high praise coming from a lifelong Chicagoan used to such places. I don't mean to brag, but...this place has been frozen in time.  

And the sound was amazing. My ears still hurt. And the band, whoa, say what you will about Widespread Panic, but it was insanely AWESOME. With a head full of whiskey, my friend nearby and this tiny, intimate place...I haven't smiled so much in years. I literally almost fought back tears more than once.

Mostly it was just us hanging out; and sitting on the banks of the Ohio River at 5am, looking at really old school paddle wheel boats is just beyond amazing. Which my clothes still smell of (kinda like mud and bourbon). It was exactly what I needed to clear my head. And I feel so much better. Light almost. 

WHY I LIKE, AND HATE "ART"

None of what I'm about to write will make any sense, but here goes. I consider myself something of an artist, in that I think I have something to say, which derives not from any natural talent, but just from keeping my eyes open and observing the world, specially the people it contains. 

Earlier tonight I had a random debate about the commercialization of art, which I think is obviously subjective;  however I do think there is value in creating something...self expression can be scary in any form. It takes serious balls, and it's not just people that paint, or take pictures, but I also applies to people that just do there jobs well. 

I suppose what I am getting at... is just that life in itself is a form of art. The simple act of going about your day can be difficult enough, but if you can do even with the simplest task, with efficiency, grace and a modicum of pleasure, I can respect the shit out of that. 

Getting back to "art", and specially the selling of it; I think it's gross. Or at the process of selling it. The people that have the funds to buy it, are people that wish they could create what they are obtaining. Which I'm not hating on; I love the art that adorns my home. 

But what does define art? I think it's not a material object, but what you do and how you do it. For example, I spent the last 3+ years hacking away in bars, changing kegs, stocking bottles, delivering food to people, and in spite of the occasional hiccups, I did a good fucking job, and I consider that an art form. 

I'm rambling here, so I'll stop. What I'm getting at is that, I just couldn't sleep tonight and had this idea/thought, that no matter what you do, it can be done in a artful manner. Rock your job, and if you can't do something else. I won't go the "life is too short" bullshit, because, well, it's not. It's long and boring. 

However, on occasion, you can find someone, or something to do that make the minutiae worth it. Music, food, photography, whatever, I guess what I am saying, is that art can transform your life, and allow you to overcome the little things that get in the way.   

 

BIG CHANGES

Within the last week, I ended the longest romantic relationship I have ever had the pleasure of having, and within 24 hours lost my job. I knows it seems overly dramatic, and I'm not being defensive, but I think it's no small coincidence; after a lot of reflection, both needed to happen. 

Although I liked my job enough, and was in stupid love with with ex...neither situation was healthy, and both things were probably...more convenient than practical. When my boss called me into her office, after being about 15 minutes late, since you know, the longest love of my love just told me he is moving away, well, DUH, I was fucking in shock. 

Mind you, for the last 7+ months, I had no problem staying late with the manager(s) were counting money. Or filling in for sick/injured co-workers. But apparently getting my heart ripped out of my chest wasn't enough of an "excuse" for being a bit late. So I signed the papers and left as soon as I could. And what's worse is I have to go back this week to get my final check. Sigh. 

I knew the deal, about both things when I signed up; dating someone in recovery, and working at a insanely busy bar at the same time probably wasn't the best idea. I handled both as best I fucking could. But everyone has their breaking point. And I found mine. 

It's actually perfect timing that my roommate is away, visiting her family in Europe. I needed this time alone, to adjust, get my mind together, etc. And I have had some fun. Both with my friend out on the town, and got laid twice this week. But mostly I have kept to myself. Mostly I have been drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and wandering around with my hoodie pulled up. 

It's a certainty I will get over this, meet a new guy, and find a new job. For now I am glad I have a home, good friends, enough funds to pay the bills, oh and I got a man/pedi today! I treated myself. Why not. And this shit weather is about to pass, so I am optimistic about the upcoming week. 

Thanks for reading. Trust me, it's much better than hearing me sing along to Frank Ocean. "I got this black suit on; I'm 5 miles from the ocean, rolling around like I'm waiting for a funeral, swimming away from something bigger than me". I'll be just fine. 

CUTTING THE CABLE

Last November my roommate bought a giant flat screen HD television; responding in kind, I upgraded our cable service to to take full advantage of the range of capability offered by said device. What's the use of not watching content in full 1080p? Comcast told me that it would only cost a few more bucks, and stupid me, I believed them. 

They were partially right, however they didn't explain that they gave me a temporary "promotional" rate for 2 months; they also failed to mention that I was being charged for 3 television receivers even though I only had one. White people problems, I know, but fucking bullshit nonetheless. $175 and change is just ridiculous for cable TV and internet. 

So I did what so many others are doing or have done, and I canceled that shit. I kept the internet (duh) and bought a Roku box! And I must say, IT'S AWESOME! I felt like a genius being able to install it in a matter of minutes. Now I got a TV that rocks Netflix, Facebook, Pandora and a ton of other shit I don't even know about yet. 

PS - I am not being paid to promote the good people at Roku, but I should be.  

I AM OFFICIALLY A FREE MAN

A week ago from yesterday, I reported to the Cook County Courthouse, located in the Daley Center (ironically it's my favorite high rise in the Loop, yet also a very depressing place). The reason for my appearance was to wrap up my criminal case, i.e. from my 2010 DUI. 

Although I had done everything they asked me to do, paid all my fines and have since stayed out of trouble, I was still a nervous wreck. I couldn't eat because I was so nauseous, nor did I sleep for more than an a few restless hours the night before. 

But I put my "fancy" clothes on (but not a tie - fuck that) and made my way down to the Loop, arriving 45 minutes early. In the cavernous hallway on the 4th floor, I sat on a concrete bench and tried to read the newspaper, but in reality I was observing the others. 

Cops, lawyers, defendants, etc. After a littler over 35 minutes my name was called. Nerves fully alive, I walked up to the judge's bench. After reading through the paperwork in front of him, he simply said: "you are done, do not let me see you in this courtroom again, you are free to go". My response: "thank you, your honor". 

That was it. 2+ years of dealing with the single worst incident on my life, and it was over just like that. In a state of mild shock I did not go out for celebratory drinks; instead I took the train home and watched TV alone. T did come over later, and I made us dinner, which was great, but the whole day was anti-climatic, to say the least. 

Even after a week's time had passed, it hasn't really sunk in. Or maybe it has and I though I would feel differently, like I can now do anything I want after being done with the legal system. Just to reiterate all the things I had to do/pay for, here's recap:

-Hire a lawyer: $1,500

-Evaluation with a substance abuse consular: $125

-Get my brother's car out of the impound lot: $1,200

-Court fees: $1,500

-Attend a Victim Impact Panel: $75

-75 hours of outpatient group therapy: $2,000

-Meet my case worker once a month for 2 years: $1,200 (yes, they charge for that)

-3 urine tests: $150

I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but you get the point. It's a lot of money and more importantly time to get a situation like this resolved. I never thought it would be over, and although it is, I still think to myself many, many times a day how lucky I am to be alive and, also more importantly, that I didn't injure anyone else. Had I done so, I don't know how I could/would live with myself. 

So...LESSON LEARNED. Hopefully others can learn from my experience. I truly hope no one has to go through the process I just outlined. And the funny thing is, I consider myself lucky. Things happen for a reason and although I regret the decision I made to drive drunk that fateful night, I did meet a lot of great people along the way. And I'll never, ever again make the same mistake. 

JOSE JAMES

It's been months since I've seen an actual music performance; although seeing one of my favorite punk bands from my high school years rock out back in September, it's been far too long since I got my ears thoroughly rang. And I love punk and rock in general still, lately I have developed an ear for far "smoother" sounds. Maybe I'm getting old (duh, haha) but I enjoy the focus being on a singer as opposed to the band as a whole.

Last month I was bored and looking around Conan's website; say what you will about his current show (I think it's just "ok") but he books some seriously awesome talent, much of which has been new to me. In fact, when I want new shit to check out, I go to his site first. Which is how I discovered Jose James...



Minutes after listening to Jose's voice for the very first time, I looked up his show dates, and sure enough, he was coming to Chicago soon; as in TOMORROW NIGHT. So I bought tickets, took the night off work (a rare occasion indeed) and despite my best efforts to invite others to join me (and Jose, hehe) I will be flying solo.

Although it would be nice to have the company, I enjoy concerts like this on my own. Small, dark, intimate space, great sound. My entire focus will be on the music presented, as opposed to it being a social event. And Lincoln Hall is hands down my favorite venue in the city. I am SO looking forward to it!!!

BONUS:

SO LONG 2012

Although I haven't posted anything in awhile, I haven't posted anything in awhile, I did not give up on this blog. It's just that all I do is work, hang with the *boy* and sleep...and I don't think that's rich material to draw from to write about. 

However, as people are wont to do, the impending end of one year, and the beginning of a new one typically causes one to reflect. And while my laundry is drying I am doing just that. Funny thing is, a year and a half ago I was also waiting for my laundry to dry, when I created a profile on OK Cupid. 

After several futile dates, I found T. It fucking blows my mind that we are still together, even if our status is constantly in limbo. In fact, after we decided months ago that we are "not boyfriends", then realized that since we are:

A: Not sleeping with other people.

B: Sleep with each other. 

C: Provide mutual emotional support and intellectual stimulation. 

D. Just kicking it.

I am incredibly lucky to have several close friends, and over this last year in particular, he became my new "best" friend. His friendship has been both a cause and a solution to many a difficult time this year, but ultimately has proved solid, fruitful even. So there's that. 

WORK = THANK GOD

Though I bitch and moan about my back hurting, annoying customers, late hours and such, I have a job that many people that do what I do, would or should envy. It's hard as hell sometimes; my body is constantly sore, I rarely see much of sunlight, but I make decent $ and enjoy + respect my co-workers.

Side note: It's rare that a shift goes by when someone I know randomly shows up at my job. It's a fun ancillary benefit. Even better is being able to walk to/from work. Free food and beer doesn't hurt either! But most importantly are the new friends I have gained from this job. 

Rather than ramble on and on about the minutiae of this year, or where my life is now, I will leave you, dear reader with this; it's been a FUCKING rough year in many ways, but also AWESOME in many more ways and...

I am blessed. I am happy. 

I hope you are too. 

Let's crush 2013!

HERE'S A STORY ABOUT ME *ALMOST* GETTING IN A FIGHT

Although I do NOT consider myself a "tough guy" or a "bad ass" by any means, I do have an inherent predication to protect people I care about. Family, friends, co-workers...little old ladies crossing the street, I got their collective backs. I call this my "Latent Raging Mommy Gene". 

Case in point, a few weeks ago this Russiasn guy comes into to work and starts promptly being inappropriate, in that he was hitting on EVERY woman in the place, in particular the Bartender/My Boss. I was not fucking having it, but since A: I'm still on probation, and B: it's not my job to bounce creepers (anymore). 

Fast forward a week; a friend of mine was visiting from out of town and we decided to take advantage of my generous work discount on food and drinks. Everything was good until...CREEPER comes in. My mood immediately soured. I did not wish to interact with him, but he kept bothering my friend and I, and also, every woman in the bar. Again. 

I'm not a doctor of any sort, but that's some serious pathological behavior, even for a recent immigrant. Regardless, I was NOT having it. The general manager, aka. my boss thankfully intervened...twice, because, seriously, I probably would have gone to jail if I did what I was going to do. Which was to shove his arm behind his shoulders and push him out onto the cold sidewalk. 

Keep in mind, I abhor violence, not a fan, however I have in the past been trained to spot certain problematic individuals, who respond not to words, but to physical action. And this guy could have easily kicked my ass. But I didn't and still don't care. I'll throw myself in front of a fucking train if it means protecting people I care about.    

Said boss later thanked me, but also reiterated they don't want me to interfere in that way. A week later, guess who came back? Creeper. The Bartender he is in love with had to hide in the basement for 2 hours while my other boss attempted to reason with the guy, which was futile at best. And the police (which were called) were of no use. But I kept my distance. 

Hope I don't see him on the street. Because I don't know what I will do if I do. 

OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN

Anyone that knows me knows that I am accident prone. Whether it's breaking my foot, crashing my (old) bike or getting hit by a car, shit just seems to happen to me. A friend suggested I see a fortune teller to see what's next...but I am more concerned with my most recent injury: my cracked head. 

Last Thursday I was walking home late at night from a friend's home, in the rain, when I attempted to avoid stepping into a pothole full of water...when the foot still in contact with the ground slipped and I went backwards, landing square on the back of my head. 

In shock but still conscious I gathered myself and - unable to find a cab - limped home, about a 2 mile walk. Once there I undressed and went to bed, sore, but thinking nothing much of it. Until the next morning that is, when I turned over and found my pillow covered in blood. 

And my hat. And my jacket. And even my toothbrush. Concerned I asked my roommate to take a look, whom, upon close inspection gasped and remarked that it looked like I had a "bloody pussy" on the rear of my head. Her words, not mine, but an apt description nonetheless. 

Resisting going to the doctor I went about my day, specifically cat sitting duty for a friend across town. On the bus I started feeling woozy, and I noticed that 12+ hours after my spill I was still bleeding. So I called my boss to explain what had happened and that perhaps it wouldn't "be a good idea to work to work tonight". 

Although pissed, she expressed shock that I was wandering around the city with a head injury, and upon her stern suggestion, I sought medical attention. Remember, I lack medical insurance, so I went to a walk-in clinic, actually 2, before I found the trendiest/hipster acute care clinic (not on purpose) in the city. 

After a battery of tests the duo of doctors determined I did not, thankfully have a concussion. Thank God; I've already had 2 and obviously don't need another. What I did need was 3 staples put into my head to close the wound. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt too much, but it was weird to have Radiohead playing in the background during that procedure. 

Did I mention I've also been battling a sinus infection for 2 weeks? And that last Thursday, when this all went down the temperature dropped 40 degrees within a 24 hour period? UGH. WORST WEEKEND EVER. I took off Friday but toughed it out on Saturday and Sunday, and still fulfilled my cat sitting duties. 

Yesterday, all I did was rest like God on the 7th day. But I am happy to report that I am feeling significantly better as I type this and should get through work tonight provided I ingest enough Advil and pop a muscle relaxer or 2 when I get home in the morning.  

SPEAKING CHICAGO-ESE

Lately Ex-Roomie and I have developed this thing, where we text each other words and/or phrases that inspire fits of laughter when we say them out loud - to ourselves, because they sound so impossibly ridiculous. This probably won't make sense, making fun of my (or her) latent accent, but here is a partial list of words that we have been trading this week. 

-Diaper

-Chartreuse

-Ohio Feeder Ramp

-Haymarket Riot

-Mayfair

-O'Hare Airport

-Crackers

-Garage

-Sandwich

-Tarmac

-College

-Financial Adviser

-Lawyer

-Attorney

-Couch

-Ball

-Pullman

-Panic

-Tracks

-Channel

-Notary Public

-Sanitary & Ship Canal

-W (Dub-a-U)

-Pabst

-Rainbow

-Butter

-Improv

-Flank Steak

-Trib'(une)

-Bears

-Cab

-Market

-Scenario

-Stuff

-That

-Trial

-Favor

-Nozzle

-Flop

-Engine

-Bottle

-Keys

-Abortion

-Wrench

-Brunch

-Bears

-

I don't know why people speak the way they do, but I am absolutely fascinated by regional accents, and it's funny how some can completely repel me, whereas others make me feel instantly comfortable. East coasters, especially those from Massachusetts, enrage me. But Arkansas? Love it.