Ishinoy

It’s been roughly a month since the trek from Sunny Santa Barbara to Chot and Chumid Chicago. In short summary, here’s what’s transpired since then:

All Around The Town
Explored Chi-Town with the Chicago Plus Card, the ticket to getting lost and getting home again with a discount. And by Chi-Town I mean Michigan Avenue. Sales tax in Chicago is 10.25%, needless to say cramping my style. But style itself is to be found everywhere, so by leaving the wallet untouched, window shopping has proven to be a great form of exercise, both physically and mentally. I have called it quits with Starbucks by feeding my chai addiction courtesy of Trader Joe’s and taking up a new, open relationship with Argo Tea. Also, people-watching has inspired a strange desire to pen a few short stories…

Independence Day with a Scotsman
Fraser hosted two barbecues in a single weekend to not celebrate the United States’ successful attempt to sever governmental ties with the illustrious United Kingdom. The food was plentiful, the music was lively, and the weather was rather cooperative. Frisbees and footballs entered neighbor territory only twice, and a brief encounter with a rather large, severely unfriendly dog finally called it a day with the ol’ pigskin.

All Quiet on the Western Front
Continuing in the role of innocent bystander and witness of my brother’s Adventures in Growing Up, I successfully (but mysteriously) remained “on his side” during a rather trying episode in which my parents’ best friends were somehow “excused” from their house-sitting responsibilities and suffered from an unexpectedly truncated vacation. Still not sure if this sequence of events reflects badly on me in any way, so I intend to remain as uninvolved as possible and hope that it doesn’t. After all, I tend to assume an “avoiding” stance when confronted with conflicts involving the brother according to a recent Thomas-Kilmann analysis. Ultimately, no one was hurt (with the exception of pride), no one was incarcerated, and the house is still standing. The parents have since returned home, and I haven’t heard anything since…

The Wife vs. The Working Girl
Not exactly a living example of The Feminine Mystique, but I’m currently struggling with the job search, although not necessarily in the typical sense. Leaving Santa Barbara involved a heart-wrenching farewell to an organization I believed in, work I had fun doing, and people I loved being around. Now that I’ve been on involuntary vacation for three weeks, I’m warming up to the idea of not having to work. I have enough money saved up for six months of living, and playing house for as long as I can is undeniably tempting. The random day trips to Lincoln Park Zoo, reading book after book and magazine after magazine on a comfy chair, experimenting in cooking, watching everything on Bravo…it’s been fabulous. However, I also realize that I won’t be able to truly begin “settling in” until I have more responsibilities tying me directly to this city, so I find myself perusing the listings while hoping that my existing connections present with some irresistible opportunity. Since re-creating my last work environment will be impossible, I’m going to have to be courageous and believe that I can do something different with people I haven’t met – yet.

Obviously, I’m not up to calling Chicago “home” yet, or any time in the foreseeable future. I’m still making observations like “It doesn’t rain every week at home.” “We don’t need air conditioning at home.” “I’ve never had to pay to go to the beach at home…and this isn’t even a beach.” Doug’s getting annoyed because I keep referring to the apartment as “his” place, but to be totally honest, I’m not doing it on purpose. There are so many things I could gripe about in this blog entry (how USPS doesn’t deliver any packages, the lack of parking, the weather, the bugs, how it doesn’t get dark at night for all the street lights and signs, feeling claustrophobic because there are always so many people around, and on and on….) but it all comes down to a general feeling of displacement and unfamiliarity that I trust with dissipate with time – perhaps lots of time. (Does anyone else here feel like people are always looking at you? Do they know I’m new? Is there something on my face? Am I just being paranoid?)