I woke up at four in the fucking morning today. I didn't have to get up until six. My stomach was bothering me. Even after it went away, I just tossed and turned. I've got a bug up my ass about something. Don't really know what, though.
I got to school before the fucking sun came up today. At least it was warm. I had a few extra minutes, so I stopped at the scenic overlook of Paulina and 290:
CDT fucking killed me Sunday. I lost track of time studying, and then fucking couldn't wake the fuck up Monday - yesterday. It's felt like fucking Friday all week, and it's only fucking Tuesday.
As I was getting ready to head out to the Pisces Party on Saturday, Barbara called me and asked if I would hang out with her friend's sister, who was in Chicago for the weekend. So I picked her up and we headed out to the party for a while before heading over to Delilah's for a few drinks and conversation. Sunday she and I went to Jak's Tap, which, while lame, has a pretty decent beer menu. It's no Hopleaf or Delilah's, but you can get pitchers of some damn good shit for a decent price. Anyway, new friend made, and she's thinking of moving to the friendly windy city. I'm a Chicago ambassador - of sorts.
I had dinner with Trish on Sunday. I told her I was pretty much ready to call things off with Laura G. - not because of any antipathy, but just due to a waning of interest. Not having heard from her in a week, I wasn't sure how she was feeling about the situation. Turns out she was thinking along the same lines, as she e-mailed me today to let me know. So that's actually something of a relief, as it saved me the stress of bringing it up. I was just going to the let the thing drop unless she got in touch with me.
I went for a bike ride in the warm weather last night - 56 Fahrenheit and wearing shorts and t-shirt? Damn straight! - and after picking up a pair of bike gloves and looking at MTB shoes and pedal clips, I ended up at Delilah's right about 9pm. I had Scottish pine ale, where they use pine needles instead of hops. It was fucking good. I had a shot and then moved onto the $1 Schlitz. Roundabout 9:30, I asked Foster if I could DJ off my MP3 player until Mike Miller and his Spanish DJ friends showed, and ended up playing songs for 30 minutes or so, then showing the Spaniards how to work shit. Ended up sitting and talking with some SHARP that had just transplanted from SoCal for a bit, and giving the nonviolence talk to this guy with missing teeth who admits to having plenty of violent run-ins with Nazi boneheads out west. Ended up getting home around midnight. Pretty fucking dumb when I've got to get up at 6am. Miller said he's going to put me on the schedule sometime for a punk/ska/whatever night.
The goddamn heat's still on at school. It was easily eighty fucking degrees in there. I was sweating my shit off. It sucked. Tomorrow should be 20 degrees or so cooler, thankfully. My thyroid's still upregulated.
I finally uploaded the pics I took in Florida the other week. This is me right after I ran over a quarter mile of beach from the hot tub to the Gulf of Mexico. It was cold. My balls were trying to climb back into my fucking kidneys.
Of course, the pool seemed very warm by comparison:
By the time I got back to the room, Tonya and her on-again-off-again beau Greg were abed...I think the expression on her face looks like something out of Calvin and Hobbes.
After sitting in the sun the next day, we headed to the airport and ended up waiting around a few hours. BORING. The floor space was plentiful.
No, we didn't coordinate shirts. Fuck off.
It's hard to believe it was snowing lightly a week ago. It was over 70 degrees today. Fucking Chicago, I love this shit.
