Alright,so here's how the story goes.
I moved to Chicago a few months ago, and it was, without exaggeration, the saddest period of my life. I was constantly worrying about money and finding a job while missing Michelle and my family and everyone else that I left in South Bend. But really, I was fine with living in Chicago, I told myself. I just needed to find a job and make some more friends and I wouldn't be so down about it. I started going to an open mic night at a bar and to a church, and I started making friends. Then I found a job with a tutoring company--a very fulfilling position--and made more friends there.
But, hold the phone: I still wasn't happy living there. All sorts of things about living in the city just grated on me--traffic, noise, the hurriedness--and there were all sorts of things back at home that I missed--most notably, the art community that some of my college friends began to put together that I couldn't be a part of in Chicago. I did some soul searching and admitted to myself (and others around me) that the only reason I felt so sure that God led me to Chicago was because He didn't stop me from coming, and that part of me was afraid that if I were to stop and think and pray about the move in the first place, I might have to admit that it wasn't for me, nullifying months of anticipation and telling people about it, and that most of the reason I was planning on staying in Chicago was because I didn't want to admit defeat to the city. Those aren't really good reasons though, so I made plans to move back in December (or March, depending when and who you ask.)
Last week, after coming back to work after a week off of recruiting, I asked my manager when tutoring would start. He responded that it was up in the air because the Chicago Public School district had made a huge number of budget cuts, reducing our company by 60%. At the end of the day, he couldn't tell me whether or not I would have a job in a week. So I went back and talked it over with my roommates, and we came to an agreement we were all happy with. The next day (Thursday) I started packing. Friday, I loaded up my van and took half of my stuff back home and cleared out a space in the bedroom/storageclosetIuseasabedroom. Michelle came after work with two frozen pizzas, cookies, strawberries, and a bottle of wine. The next day, we both went back to Chicago and loaded up the rest of my stuff and talked with Kriss and Mellie (who have borne the burden of my fiscal irresponsibility and flightiness much more than anyone the past few months, and have been patient enough with me that our friendship is still intact. Try asking that of anyone else) a little before we left, leaving 1523 N Campbell as my place of residence. Then on the way back, it was my turn to buy pizza.
Two months ago, it wouldn't have been good for me to move back at all. I would have been coming back defeated with my tail between my legs and a five dollar bill in my pocket. But now, having looked at my circumstances and decisions long and hard, I'm at peace with coming back. Now, I have to find a job and raise money for my own place in the next couple months. And I'm fine with that.
And now, YOU just have to download the zip file for the weekly mix and load it up. No more arranging the songs on your own, folks.
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol VII: Nathaniel Strikes Back!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Spoiledsport
This past week spoiled me way too much.
I didn't really think about coming back to Chicago until last night, and I was just as content as anyone to just stay there. But, I still have things to do in Chicago until I move back, and I need to focus on living here for now. It will be a good two months.
Yesterday was Michelle and my fivemonthiversary. I couldn't ask for a better woman to have shared the past five months with. A few of those months have been filled with the hardest lessons I've ever learned--especially the lesson of becoming a grown up. She's been so patient with me through all of my incredulity and impatience and immaturity and fiscal irresponsibility and insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and...
everything.
She's going to be on the news tonight. I wish I could see it.
But, at least I have a project to keep me busy until November. I've got to finish that album. I only have two songs to go, and a drum track on another. Then I'll be adding little flourishes and mixing it to perfection. Definitely shouldn't take me more than two weeks, as long as I kick my rear in gear.
I didn't really think about coming back to Chicago until last night, and I was just as content as anyone to just stay there. But, I still have things to do in Chicago until I move back, and I need to focus on living here for now. It will be a good two months.
Yesterday was Michelle and my fivemonthiversary. I couldn't ask for a better woman to have shared the past five months with. A few of those months have been filled with the hardest lessons I've ever learned--especially the lesson of becoming a grown up. She's been so patient with me through all of my incredulity and impatience and immaturity and fiscal irresponsibility and insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and...
everything.
She's going to be on the news tonight. I wish I could see it.
But, at least I have a project to keep me busy until November. I've got to finish that album. I only have two songs to go, and a drum track on another. Then I'll be adding little flourishes and mixing it to perfection. Definitely shouldn't take me more than two weeks, as long as I kick my rear in gear.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Le Retour
I've been in South Bend since Tuesday night. In that time, I have come to be very pleased with my decision to move back at Christmas. A lot of this came about from the first (rpac)* meeting I've attended since deciding to be part of it, and I'm incredibly excited for the direction that group is heading--including the recently acquired official position of a non-profit organization. The people in (rpac) and the ideas and passions they have just astound me.
I'm also realizing that this area has so much more potential than I've tapped into.
Besides that, it will be wonderful to see more of Michelle, and my family, and my friends left at Bethel.
(contented sigh)
Times like these call for a new weekly mixtape!
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol VI: Goat-Face Killah's Greatest Hits
*River Parks Art Community
I'm also realizing that this area has so much more potential than I've tapped into.
Besides that, it will be wonderful to see more of Michelle, and my family, and my friends left at Bethel.
(contented sigh)
Times like these call for a new weekly mixtape!
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol VI: Goat-Face Killah's Greatest Hits
*River Parks Art Community
Saturday, October 3, 2009
My Vow
The Sparrow & The Whale will be finished by November 1st.
How about a mixtape?
More specifically, how about a mixtape chronicling my favorite cover versions? Yeah? Okay.
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol V: Under the Covers
The idea now is that I'll be moving back to South Bend in March after Brain Hurricane is finished. At that point, I'll be trying to get a job at Bashor's Childrens Home and looking for my own place and never, ever, ever taking that town or the people inside of it for granted again.
How about a mixtape?
More specifically, how about a mixtape chronicling my favorite cover versions? Yeah? Okay.
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol V: Under the Covers
The idea now is that I'll be moving back to South Bend in March after Brain Hurricane is finished. At that point, I'll be trying to get a job at Bashor's Childrens Home and looking for my own place and never, ever, ever taking that town or the people inside of it for granted again.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The Last Day of September; The First Day of October
Today was a very long day, but at least I found out I don't have tuberculosis. Good news.
Yesterday was also a very long day. Shall I tell you a tale?
I shall.
Two nights ago, I went over to dear Chelsea's apartment because she had been looking for a bike on Craigslist, and had someone that would possibly give it to her that night, so she needed a ride out to the suburbs. And so I went, and we waited, but to no avail. The person who had inquired after the bike first had arrived, claiming what was rightfully Chelsea's. I mean, claiming what was rightfully the person's who asked after it first.
But!
Later that night, the bikeholder (whose email address was BooDawgMama...I'll let your imaginations wander) emailed Chelsea to tell her that she had ANOTHER bike! What good news! So she called me, and I agreed to drive her to claim her bike, and in return, she would cook me dinner (which was a very excellent dinner) and give me apple pie, since she had no cash for gas money.
I arrive at her apartment and we get in my car and input the address into Judy, my trusty GPS, who told me that our destination was one hour and three minutes away. 'Funny,' Chelsea said, 'Google Maps said it was only forty-five minutes away.' I explained that I found a way to get Judy to avoid tolls, which is probably the reason for the difference in estimated times. But, an hour didn't sound that bad, so we set off.
Oh, but wait. It was rush hour.
Oh, and also. There was construction.
Oh! Don't forget! The house was impossible to find.
Not only were there no street lights on the street in question (which had gravel driveways. I felt like I was in northern Michigan again), but the house numbers were impossible to see. We asked someone where 305 was, and they said, 'this is 351, so it should be a few houses down.'
We drove a few hundred feet in the opposite direction, and Chelsea got out to check the address. 301. We drove to the next house. 303. We drove to the next house--our destination.
309? Really? Where was 305?
'Oh look! I see it there, through the trees,' says I. Only problem is--there's no driveway. So Chelsea calls BooDawgMama, who tells her that the driveway is actually off of a different street. We follow her directions and arrive to claim Chelsea's bike--two hours after we left.
So we load the bike into the back of my minivan (now named Concordia, in honor of her place of rebirth), and I tell Judy that it's okay to take us down tolls again. It's not worth adding more than an hour to our trip to save 80 cents. So we drive out of the boonies and back into the suburbs, then onto I-90.
Just then, as we were waiting in the cash lane to pay our meager toll, a funny thing happened.
As all of the cars are negotiating the two lanes become eight, several cars seemed to be obstructed by something. They pulled away an revealed a stopped car with its hazard lights blinking. I've been stranded before (specifically, on the road trip, with Chelsea and Brenden (who we missed and talked of missing very much), and I know how wonderful it is to be rescued by someone who has exactly what you need--like jumper cables maybe, like the pair in my car.
I pulled over next to the stalled fellow and asked if he needed a jump. 'Yeah! Do you have cables?' I answered that I did, and I put on my hazards (taking as much joy in blocking another lane of traffic as I was helping this fellow) and we jumped his car. I got back into the car and looked at Chelsea. 'Hyrum didn't raise no fool,' I said.
And half an hour later, we were back at her apartment. I skyped Michelle as Chelsea made a very satisfying pasta and steak dish with bruschetta cheese (I believe). Then, we ate our dinner as we watched Matchstick Men. I had forgotten how much I like that movie. It's one of Nicholas Cage's very, very few good roles. After the movie, I left, getting back at my apartment at an almost irresponsible 12 30.
Which is foolish considering the day of work I had today. Short version: after our recruiting time at our usual school, we drove to the far far far north side (almost to the suburbs) to go door to door. But! An hour into our two and a half hour process, we had to stop. Someone called and said that we were (quote) too threatening. Hmm.
So we set off to a different school to go door to door there--only to be called halfway there and told that we were just going to take a break and then go to different schools to catch the parents as they were leaving. On our break, Matthew, Alora, Benjamin, and I went to Loyola, which has a beautiful lakeside campus and a breathtaking cathedral, where I sat for a moment and felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. Then, we went to different schools to recruit. Unlike every other school I've been to where we talk with parents who speak English, Spanish, or every once in a while Ukrainian or Polish, at this school I was answered with English, Spanish, Hindi, French, some African languages, and some Caribbean dialects. I was astonished.
However, leaving there and going back home was no fun. That is to say, it was just very time consuming, and I was already incredibly tired and just wanted my TB test read so I could go home and rest.
But, I need to learn what real rest is. My soul is tired.
Yesterday was also a very long day. Shall I tell you a tale?
I shall.
Two nights ago, I went over to dear Chelsea's apartment because she had been looking for a bike on Craigslist, and had someone that would possibly give it to her that night, so she needed a ride out to the suburbs. And so I went, and we waited, but to no avail. The person who had inquired after the bike first had arrived, claiming what was rightfully Chelsea's. I mean, claiming what was rightfully the person's who asked after it first.
But!
Later that night, the bikeholder (whose email address was BooDawgMama...I'll let your imaginations wander) emailed Chelsea to tell her that she had ANOTHER bike! What good news! So she called me, and I agreed to drive her to claim her bike, and in return, she would cook me dinner (which was a very excellent dinner) and give me apple pie, since she had no cash for gas money.
I arrive at her apartment and we get in my car and input the address into Judy, my trusty GPS, who told me that our destination was one hour and three minutes away. 'Funny,' Chelsea said, 'Google Maps said it was only forty-five minutes away.' I explained that I found a way to get Judy to avoid tolls, which is probably the reason for the difference in estimated times. But, an hour didn't sound that bad, so we set off.
Oh, but wait. It was rush hour.
Oh, and also. There was construction.
Oh! Don't forget! The house was impossible to find.
Not only were there no street lights on the street in question (which had gravel driveways. I felt like I was in northern Michigan again), but the house numbers were impossible to see. We asked someone where 305 was, and they said, 'this is 351, so it should be a few houses down.'
We drove a few hundred feet in the opposite direction, and Chelsea got out to check the address. 301. We drove to the next house. 303. We drove to the next house--our destination.
309? Really? Where was 305?
'Oh look! I see it there, through the trees,' says I. Only problem is--there's no driveway. So Chelsea calls BooDawgMama, who tells her that the driveway is actually off of a different street. We follow her directions and arrive to claim Chelsea's bike--two hours after we left.
So we load the bike into the back of my minivan (now named Concordia, in honor of her place of rebirth), and I tell Judy that it's okay to take us down tolls again. It's not worth adding more than an hour to our trip to save 80 cents. So we drive out of the boonies and back into the suburbs, then onto I-90.
Just then, as we were waiting in the cash lane to pay our meager toll, a funny thing happened.
As all of the cars are negotiating the two lanes become eight, several cars seemed to be obstructed by something. They pulled away an revealed a stopped car with its hazard lights blinking. I've been stranded before (specifically, on the road trip, with Chelsea and Brenden (who we missed and talked of missing very much), and I know how wonderful it is to be rescued by someone who has exactly what you need--like jumper cables maybe, like the pair in my car.
I pulled over next to the stalled fellow and asked if he needed a jump. 'Yeah! Do you have cables?' I answered that I did, and I put on my hazards (taking as much joy in blocking another lane of traffic as I was helping this fellow) and we jumped his car. I got back into the car and looked at Chelsea. 'Hyrum didn't raise no fool,' I said.
And half an hour later, we were back at her apartment. I skyped Michelle as Chelsea made a very satisfying pasta and steak dish with bruschetta cheese (I believe). Then, we ate our dinner as we watched Matchstick Men. I had forgotten how much I like that movie. It's one of Nicholas Cage's very, very few good roles. After the movie, I left, getting back at my apartment at an almost irresponsible 12 30.
Which is foolish considering the day of work I had today. Short version: after our recruiting time at our usual school, we drove to the far far far north side (almost to the suburbs) to go door to door. But! An hour into our two and a half hour process, we had to stop. Someone called and said that we were (quote) too threatening. Hmm.
So we set off to a different school to go door to door there--only to be called halfway there and told that we were just going to take a break and then go to different schools to catch the parents as they were leaving. On our break, Matthew, Alora, Benjamin, and I went to Loyola, which has a beautiful lakeside campus and a breathtaking cathedral, where I sat for a moment and felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. Then, we went to different schools to recruit. Unlike every other school I've been to where we talk with parents who speak English, Spanish, or every once in a while Ukrainian or Polish, at this school I was answered with English, Spanish, Hindi, French, some African languages, and some Caribbean dialects. I was astonished.
However, leaving there and going back home was no fun. That is to say, it was just very time consuming, and I was already incredibly tired and just wanted my TB test read so I could go home and rest.
But, I need to learn what real rest is. My soul is tired.
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