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| So, friends. My time here in Chicago is quickly coming to an end. The girl and I bought a car and we packed up our lives and now we're waiting to leave the city. Onward, ho! To the west, to the west. Everything we own in a Volvo to the west. Ha. Yeah. I think Beyonce would definitely approve.
But seriously. We're just hanging on this last week and a half until we finish out our commitments to our jobs and then it's Hasta La Vista, baby. We've been hanging out with some good friends, some old friends. Making our last rounds before our Volvo (affectionately dubbed Bo) carries us off into the sunset. If you wanna say goodbye, or punch us in the face, or share some advice about how to keep an overweight feline cool in a car without air-conditioning for 3 weeks, be our guest. Give us a call. Facebook us. Throw pebbles at our window. Write our names in fire on the front lawn. Hold a stereo above your head and promise us you'll never forget us. (Omg, I'm so effing tired and I just wanna chill out and watch a movie. Is it that obvious?) FIND US. That would be my point.
These days, since we're living back up by North Park, I'm biking 20 miles roundtrip to work and back every day. Wow. Some days I wanna kill myself, others I just bask in the glow of my repeated attempts and successes at self-sufficiency.
God really is good. And we're going to continue believing that.
We love you all, and maybe my next life update will be from the West coast!
Peace.
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| The weather has been up and down, but most days, I and La Luz, my blue beauty of a bicycle, speed our way downtown to work everyday. One time, on my way back from work, I was stopped by police officers who were handing out free bike lights to bikers dangerously gliding through the streets without one. Unfortunately, mine was stolen a few days later while La Luz was locked up at the train station, but it still gave me hope in humankind. Sam and I were biking somewhere this past weekend, and this old woman was trying to cross the street in the appropriate time alotted her by the orange blinking hand, and I was nervous she wasn't gonna make it through. She crossed ok, but got stuck on the curb on the other side. I stopped, watched, and waited to see if anyone would help her. Luckily, a "bro"-looking dude lifted up the front end of her chair so she could continue on her way. Granted, he was with a girl he may or may not have been trying to impress. Or at the very least, would have gotten some grief for letting poor little Mrs. So-and-So spin her wheels in the gutter. Regardless, I was impressed. It's little witnesses to kindnesses like these that spit-shine my ever-increasing rusty vision of the good within people. Sam and I are considering buying a 1971 Volkswagon Squareback for our trip out West. It resembles something that Mr. Bean might cruise in, but shoot. He got his own movie. Just sayin. And despite its efforts, it maxes out at 80mph, which is ok with me because I bet Utah has a lot of um, salt formations and stuff. That we should take the time to uh, enjoy. And revel in. And take polaroids of? I bet that would be really cool, though. We could make ourselves look all vintage and get a dirty old scrapbook from Goodwill and carry it around with us wherever we go and make people think we've lived like, some crazy life. Some crazy old-school life, complete with hand-written captions and stained pages documenting the summer we spent touring as many states as we could afford. When really, we're only gonna be on the road for less than 2 weeks. People are highly gullible these days. The polaroids are gonna do 'em in I bet. Totally authentic. Totally genius. We've also decided we need to do a burlesque routine with our bikes before we go. Maybe next month? If you don't know what burlesque is, or even think you know what it is, look it up anyway. And then find out when Variatease is happening in the city. Cuz we help out. And hang out with really cool girls backstage. And then you could see us sometime, onstage, with our bikes, taking our clothes off. Or maybe you could just come see us practice in our backyard. And we'll only charge you beer, we promise. And then take a polaroid of you when you're not looking and put it in our ratty old scrapbook. Welp, that's all I got. Hope you're all doing well. And hey. If there are some friends you've been thinking about recently, send em a message on Facebook. That's been happening a lot to me lately. And I really appreciate it! Try it! Much love, suckahs. | | |
| So I'm still alive, don't worry.
When the weather permits, I'm on my bicycle these days, hauling myself downtown to work and back. It actually only takes on average 22 minutes to get down there. And I pass all the bikers on Milwaukee Avenue. Sam and I just got done looking at a bunch of sexy bikes. I got a rear rack for her bike, Stealth Mode, for her birthday (which was yesterday). We were looking at the Xtracycle, which has a rear rack built onto it with the back wheel much farther behind the seat than a "normal" bike. Some people use these instead of cars. I'm greatly fascinated.
The past couple weeks I've been working at or around overtime. It wouldn't be so bad if I were actually working at a job that helped people. Food service exists mostly due to people's desire for comfort. So, in a way, I'm a full-time comforter, yet so many of the people coming through don't really need to be eating Potbelly. Sometimes twice a day. Really. I have a job because people work long hours, don't bring their own food, and would rather bring home a sandwich to their kids because they weren't there to make a real dinner. No joke, there's a woman that comes in a few times a week to pick up dinner for her family on her way home. Makes me kinda sad. But shoot, I got bills to pay too.
I also have a brother in jail. And he's going to be there for a long time. He has a court date next week so I'll know more once that comes and goes. Please send some good love and thoughts to my family. His face has been plastered on all the local TV stations and newspapers, and it's pretty humiliating for my parents. I never especially prided myself on being a Davis for any specific reason, and now that carrying the Davis name automatically brings up the fact that your brother's pretty fucked up, I'm a little embarrassed too. I'm going to write him while he's in prison. I don't want him to become that ugly spot in the family story that gets a couch put over it so guests won't ask questions.
Do you feel like something big's about to happen? People have been talking, and Sam says she feels it, too. My antennae are out, but I'm not receiving super-strong signals yet. I mean, friends are graduating, moving away, we'll be moving the end of summer. I've known these things and have more or less adjusted myself accordingly. But "something big" could be a lot of things. I think I'll try to pay attention to the really great, be they small and subtle, things that are happening now and every day. And get an emergency pack together just in case.
Let's talk about those things, yeah? Let me know how you are, wherever you are.
Keep looking. Those good things are sprouting up everywhere.
And be peacemakers when you have to be.
Love to you all. | | |
| What the eff is a Gerber widget? And why would I want one? Not much is new. Although I have been running into Jim Meyer at work lately. Apparently he's a temp downtown and loves the P-Belly. It's kind of comforting seeing someone from a former community in my new world. And by new I mean non-North Park. And by non-North Park, I mean queer-friendly, liberal, and honest. That kid that emailed Chasity (Sokrates, really? Like, you couldn't even spell it intelligently? Oh right, you're probably ROTFLOL'ing all day when you should be growing balls and taking advantage of your education) really needs some prayer, right? Anyhow, plans for Portland are coming together, or at least our vision for our life there. Community housing, living outside the power grid, living off the waste of the greedy, caring for those in need, making sure everyone has enough, getting to know our neighbors, not working a shitty job to pay for stuff we don't need, finding another way to be happy, refusing to accept what has been handed to us. We are going to choose for ourselves. Love and become one of the untouchables. Very exciting. More later. Hope you all are well. Gimme a call sometime, yeah? Love. | | |
| Christmas in Nebraska = Wonderful. Sick Sam = Not so wonderful. Work = Promotion. This week. Apartment = Could be better. Warmer. More hospitable. Cat = Same beautiful whiny creature. Winter = Fair aquaintance. I'm workin' on it, ok? Hope = Still alive. I hope you all are doing well, are causing the regular trouble to keep things interesting, and are loving yourselves. Peace. | | |
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