Back to DC

When I woke this morning around 7, there was already a surprising amount of snow on the ground. I immediately thought that I should implement a plan (and why didn’t I think of this last night?) to get to the airport quickly to catch an earlier flight out of the city. I cleaned the guest bedroom and began packing. Christ, I acquired a bunch more clothes over the break. Bob and Kari dropped me at the Blue Line and by 9:15 I was on a train heading to O’Hare.

When the train emerged from underground after the Division stop, the white sky and snow were almost blinding. I looked out on Milwaukee Ave., peering at all the familiar shops, restaurants that I used to pass by all summer long. And then before that, on my bicycle every day when I lived in Logan Square. I hadn’t walked down this street once in the 16 days I’d been back, and I wondered what the hell I’d been doing with my time. And I thought about the people here I didn’t see, or the people I barely spent any time with. The Boxer Rebellion’s beautiful “Soviets” played on my iPod, and when the line “And all I can see is that I’m sorry, sorry...” it made me sad. I thought of what a lovely break it has been for me, like a vacuum, but outside of that the world is still turning and time marches on and people get older and relationships fade when you don’t take time to care for them.

And I’m sitting here pondering the next semester of school and the next chapter of my life in DC. I’m excited but also uneasy. I should know what to expect, having survived the first semester, but I feel like maybe up to know has been a fluke and now the real experience begins, which is of course ridiculous. I think this uneasiness stems from the in-between time. I’m not sure I’m so good with life in DC during those rare times when I’m not a student. Because that is what I am – a student; it’s why I’m here. And when school is not in session – well, I’m not really sure what I am.

School just needs to start, I’ve decided.

An Open Letter to 2010*

Well, we're off to a good start, aren't we? Which is good. I think the events of NYE and yesterday's Polar Plunge bode well for the rest of the year, don’t you?

And before I forget, nice job on the whole Roman Numeral thing - "MMX." That's badass. Also: what exactly are we calling you? I prefer "twenty-ten" - I think it is concise and clean. Not a fan of "two thousand ten" - I think that's kinda lame.

Anyway, I wanted to take a moment to introduce myself since we’re going to be spending some time together. I think we’re going to have some fun.

You know, as your predecessors could tell you, I’m usually really big into resolutions for the New Year. They’re a big deal for me. For example, in 2007 I made some resolutions to try to get my life back on track (after a few years of setbacks); in 2008 I resolved to study my ass off to get good grades in my pre-req nursing classes; and then last year I had two main ones – choose I good nursing school and live less inside my own head (something I tended to do) – and happily I met those goals.

You’ll be relieved to know that this year, for probably the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t have any resolutions. So you’re off the hook.

Whew! I bet you’re thinking. Seriously. I thought about it for a long time and I’m actually quite content with my life right now, so I’m not making any resolutions. There’s not much I’m trying to change about my life or self this year. I feel like I spent the last few years changing things around, and I’m pretty happy with the results. So I’m taking a break from all that.

That’s not to say that you get to coast through. O no. In fact, There will be some big happenings I need your help with. Like: I graduate this year, thankfully; and I’m really hoping to get a trip to Europe in – either London or Spain – before the year is over. And there will be other, smaller things: Portland in April; a few jaunts up to NYC; forging ahead with new friendships while also doing a better job of strengthening existing ones; keeping disciplined in my studies.

But for the most part, my year is pretty much mapped out, thanks to school. For example, I know what I need to accomplish in February, what will be happening in July, what needs to get done in October. In a few ways, it will be a year of Auto Pilot, which I’m quite OK with.

So let’s agree to play it Cool for the duration, alright? You know, keep things slow and steady along the course. No big surprises. No games. No bullshit. Let’s just keep it nice and easy.

Remember these things, and I think we’ll get along just fine.

* With thanks to GFC, who I stole this post idea from.

Ice Ice Baby

[That's my knee, right after the Plunge.]

As is becoming tradition, this morning I joined a couple friends for the annual New Year's Day Polar Plunge in Lake Michigan. And I have the battle scars to prove it.

When we arrived at noon, I was feeling really nervous, like suddenly I no longer wanted to do it. See, the Plunge is a crazy thing. There's really nothing else in my life I've ever done is messed up as this is. There's no other situation in which I completely force my body to do something it does not want to do. It was 17 degrees, and the water temp was 35. There were 4-foot waves with large chunks of ice floating through it. It was pretty much hell on Earth.

I've figured out that the Plunge is kinda like dying: you may enter the water surrounded by friends, but in the end, it is you and you alone. Mark, Katie and I waded into the water, dodging ice flows and waves, and went down on the count of three. But in the moment, when you say "three" there's nobody dropping you to your knees. It's only you and the big, cold abyss. Death is like that, I suppose.

Anyway, after climbing out of the water onto and over the ice to get back to our clothes and towels, we were all scraped up, bloody and bruised. As my friend Colleen, who was there to take pictures of the whole incident, commented afterwards, "There's a lot of blood on this beach."

Did I mention that it was 17 degrees and the water temp was 35? At this point, as I sit here much warmer but physically exhausted, it was totally worth it. But if the conditions next year are like they were today, I will definitely have to think twice.

But regardless, you never feel more alive then you do once you submerge yourself in near-frozen water, I think. It is perhaps the best possible way to start the New Year.

Which, btw, Happy 2010 bitches!

Happy New Year

Because I'm prone to sentimentality and nostalgia, New Years Eve is always a big deal to me. I think it's important to reflect. I think for me at least, I like to look back and know that my life is evolving. That I'm at least a little bit different, and hopefully better, than I was a year ago.

We experience things ever single day throughout the year. Some good, some bad, but at the very least I want to learn from these experiences. Has that learning helped me to grow, to improve? Am I closer today to the person I want to be than I was a year ago?

The answer isn't always yes. In fact for the past few years I've experienced difficulties, frustrations and setbacks that have made me rather unhappy come Dec. 31st. But there was always hope that the next year would be a chance to turn it all back around and get things back on track.

2009 was such a year for me. It was the first time in about 5 years that I could say it was unequivocally a better year than the one prior. About 7 years ago I decided that I wanted to be a nurse; three years ago made some changes to my job to allow me to take the necessary classes; two years ago the (pre-req) schooling began and I worked my ass off to get the grades I wanted; last year I applied to schools and got accepted to one of the top programs in the country.

It all finally came together for me in 2009. Yep, it was a truly great 12 months (give or take) and I'm going to celebrate appropriately with some friends tonight.

Cheers and Happy New Year, all. And to a great 2010!

Aventures in Celibacy

Tonight I have the chance to break the celibacy vow I took back in August - now that the semester is over - and while I should probably be excited about it, I'm not sure that I'm, well. up for the task.

A friend of mine here in Chicago is having a party, and we've had this mutual attraction and flirtation with each other for as long a we’ve known each other, but we’ve never been able to make it work. Over the semester we’ve flirted a few times, and back in November he sent me a text message saying that I’m invited to “come down his chimney anytime” while I’m in Chicago over Christmas break.

I’ve been looking forward to seeing him for a few weeks, but now I’m feeling a bit ambivalent about the whole thing. Yes, on the one hand I really want that kind of release, but on the other I’m not sure I want to complicate the relationship we have with sex. Plus, I think I might actually be getting comfortable with the whole celibate lifestyle; I’m starting to think that maybe I’d like to wait just a little bit longer until the right situation presents itself (i.e. my T-crush – not that there’s any sign that he even knows I’m alive).

Yeah, My Life is Awesome

I can add this to my list of Really Awesome Experiences – running into someone you’ve slept with, only to have the person not remember who you are. Seriously, like I need this in my life.

So today I get on the Brown Line at Diversey. There’s hardly anyone in the car. I sit down and look around and immediately see this guy I know named C, who is halfway down the car, looking at me. Fuuuck, I’m thinking -- he’s pretty much the last person in Chicago I want to run into and here’s why.

I met C. about two years ago in a coffee shop. He was handsome, intelligent and interesting. We exchanged numbers and went out on a few dates over the course of about 2 weeks. We even slept together once. I broke it off early because he was just a little weird. For starters, after our 3^rd date we were making out on his bed when his dog jumped onto the bed and C didn’t shoo him off. Seriously – he let the dog lay there on the bed while we’re going at it. Awkard.

Another weird thing was that C. would break into this bizarre, cutesy, baby-talk thing while we were making out. Like full-on baby cutesy-wootsey talk. There he is, kissing my torso, biting my nipples and all of a sudden he’d let out this “oooh you have such a cute widdle belly button” – like he’s talking to an infant. “Umm, why are you talking like that?” I asked him and he just shrugged it off.

On our fourth and final date – the night we slept together – he told me he could only come if I licked him armpit. So there we are, going at it, and I’m now required to start rolling my tongue all in and around his pits. Christ, the things I do just to get laid, I remember thinking.

I should have called it off after the first warning sign – the dog on the bed – or probably should have gone running in the other direction during the baby-talk episode. But the truth is he was the first guy I dated after my big break up with Richard and I guess I just really wanted to get laid. After date #4 and the armpit incident, I told him I just didn’t think it was going to work out. I got a few texts from him in the weeks following but soon after I never heard from him again and, mercifully, I never ran into him.

Until today. So he’s looking at me across the car and I’m looking at him and I’m thinking this is ridiculous to try and ignore him and not say hello – we slept with each other, for fucks sake – so I get up form my seat and move to the one next to him.

He’s still staring at me, so I start:

Me: “Uh, Hi C.”
C.: “Hi?”
Me: “It’s (me).”
C: : “Uhh….” [Note: He’s looking at me like he seriously doesn’t know who I am.]
Me: “Remember me? Umm, we dated for a few weeks about 2 years ago.”
C.: “Oh. Yeah, right. I was trying to figure out why you looked familiar…”
Me (thinking: Why I looked familiar? Are you fucking kidding me?): “Yeah. So I just wanted to say hi…”
C. (still looking like maybe he doesn’t fully remember who I am): “Right. How are you? You look different. Is your hair different? Shorter?” [Note: My hair is no different now than it was when we dated two years ago. I pretty much look exactly the same as I did back in 2008.]
Me: “Uhh, no, not really. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.”
C.: “Right. Wait, you’re studying to be a nurse, right?”
Me: “Yep, that’s right. Anyway, this is my stop so see you. Take care.”

Ugh. So to summarize: I met this guy two years ago. We dated for 2 weeks. We fucked. I run into him today and he doesn’t remember who I am. My life is awesome.

The Lull of the Break Has Set In

I’ve been home - whoops, I mean "back" in Chicago for a week. The time has both crawled and flown by. All in all, a very relaxing trip so far. Perhaps too relaxing. I feel tired all the time – my body’s natural response to weeks upon weeks of 6 hour a night sleep session, or so I’m telling myself – and the night just feels old by 9 pm.

I’m fine with this, really, although I feel as though perhaps I should make myself busier.

Chicago is good – I’m reminded by the hour how much I miss it – but man, it is fucking cold. It is lame to complain about the weather, but: it is cold all the time; either raining or snowing; and the wind is intolerable. Today is the first day the sun has been out.

Because of this intolerance to the cold, I’m a little worried about Friday’s Polar Bear Plunge. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Well, I guess that’s about it for now. I just feel like I should be writing more, especially if I plan to boost my blogging in 2010.