Sunday, March 23, 2008
10:42 pm
it was just today that I really began to understand the dichotomy of certain aspects of life here compared to back home. a lot of things are similar, sure. it seems that most strangers in the city are equally as timid, although I do receive the occasional random comment from someone about my trench coat in both places. recently a surprising amount of these have been compliments, which is quite a deviation from the paradigm. let me set the scene for the typical comment I received about it before a couple months ago:
I'd be walking down the street, in a store, in the mall, etc., perhaps having a conversation with a friend or just walking by myself, and from the opposite direction would approach a small herd of high-school aged kids dressed in societally-claimed cool clothes purchased from any place you might expect and bearing a large indicator of the fact so that everyone who sees them is well aware of their knowledge of current fashion trends. as we pass each other, I mind my own business, talking to whomever I'm with or just entertaining to my inner dialogue. however, they do not choose to provide me the same courtesy. instead, after they are behind me, I hark upon the faint whisper of the word "freak," or something to that effect, presumably spoken under the assumption that it was said quietly enough for me to not hear by the self-proclaimed shepherd of the flock, to which all others simply acquiesced to. this is immediately followed by the obedient, muffled laughter of his cronies. the first couple times this happened I experienced some kind of quasi-offense, but now I tend to just write these people off as self-serving, immature and intolerant and respond with a very polite sounding, "thank you very much!" even stopping in mid-sentence to do so if necessary. then I continue walking as they quicken their pace and try to pretend as if they had never triggered the event to begin with.
ehem, well, I went off on a bit of a tangent there, as I've a tendency of doing. anyway, for some reason I've been receiving positive comments about my coat lately and I've yet to discover any kind of explanation. granted, these haven't been coming in abundance; just a one every few weeks or so, but it's a welcome change. but now, time to get back on course.
the point of that rant was to segue into an area of life that I've discovered to be profoundly different here in Chicago than it is back in Michigan, and that is the attitude and approach to the wonderful sport of hockey. I am, and always have been, a Detroit Red Wings fan, but I'm a fan of the game in general, so Dave and I decided to catch a Blackhawks game while I was in town. my hopes at the beginning of the season were to see a Wings game here in Chicago, but there were conflicts with that, which may not be such a bad thing considering our rather dismal record against them this season. we both woke up a bit late, so we had to head out pretty much as soon as we got out of bed. we took the El and then once we got off we had to walk a few blocks to the United Center, which will henceforth be referred to as UC.
approaching the United Center.
we purchased two tickets for a whopping $24 total. for those of you unaware, the cheapest tickets available for games in Detroit cost $22 which almost rivals the price of two in Chicago. the only exception that I'm aware of are the $9 Wings tickets which were implemented just this season, and are quite hard to come by due to a limited supply and the necessity to purchase them in person at the Joe Louis Arena (JLA) box office as opposed to online or over the phone. I have stories of these adventures, but they can wait until another day.
I haven't been to many professional hockey games, and this was the first one that I've been to outside of Detroit. I must admit that the UC is a bit nicer arena than JLA, although I would expect it to be considering that the UC has only been in operation for about 13 years and JLA is approaching more than twice that age. UC is much more modern, with escalators providing convenient access to all levels, as opposed to JLA where the upper and lower decks are only reachable by stairs once inside the actual stadium. the UC corridors seem much wider, which makes getting around a lot easier, although this could just be an illusion caused by a difference in attendance in each building. the seats allow for a bit more leg room, which is a concern for a Peron of my frame.
we wandered around the halls for a little while, searching for our section. I decided to wear my Red Wings Steve Yzerman jersey to the game, assuming that since they were playing a different team, I wouldn't receive too much flak over it.
this was wrong.
I was informed by several people that "the Red Wings suck." now, I'll admit that Detroit has been less than stellar against the Blackhawks this season (I think our current record against them is 2-3-1) but we are dominating them in overall points. even after Chicago won today's game against St. Louis, Detroit is still almost 30 points ahead of them. this made me realize something; Dave has relayed stories about the extent of some of the drug use here, but this instance solidified my understanding of it. the only way I could rationalize these people's logic was to assume that they were on drugs so intense that they actually thought that they were existing not in the present, but in the 1970s during the "Dead Wings" era. I shudder to think of the aftermath of such negligence.
while we were walking around it became quickly apparent that I was not going to experience hockey like I would in Detroit. see, Detroit hockey fans go to a Wings game solely for that reason; to see a Red Wings hockey game. I've had the joy of going to five Detroit Red Wings games so far this season and every game as been equally enjoyable in terms of the atmosphere and people. a majority of the fans obviously possess a bias but tend to be quite amiable toward outsiders and opposition. there isn't a lot going on besides the game, and everything fancy is happening on the ice. but we've had a powerhouse team for about a decade and a half and the fans don't require any extraneous entertainment because our team more than provides it. but Chicago has had a failing team for quite a while now (although with the recent additions of Kane and Toews, that may soon change) and it takes more to satisfy the fans than just a hockey game. there are mascots for teams that have nothing to do with the sport, and may not even actually belong to a team; I saw cats and dogs, birds (possibly a pelican). hell, I think I even spotted a goddamn dinosaur. anyway, more on that later...
now, I can't really tell you how good the seats were for the tickets we purchased, because I truly have no idea. however, I can show you the view from the seats that sat in.
there was an annoying kid in front of me, but he does not appear in this picture.
once we settled in, we talked for a few minutes. I reminisced and told stories about amazing plays made by the likes of Nick Lidstrom and Pavel Datsyuk I'd seen this season. but then, the lights went down and things got loud. that's when the video started playing on the scoreboard and there was a small laser light show on the ice. I took a short video of it, but the quality is terrible because it was on a digital camera.
the Blackhawks own animated teams.
I'd estimate that this movie ran for a duration of at least four minutes, possibly closer to five. much of it was computer generated and showed off the amazing abilities of the players when faced with animated opponents. then it showed highlights from previous (real) games; goals, saves, hits, etc. this was something else I was not used to, as there is nothing similar to this in Detroit. the players simply skate out, warmup for a few minutes, and then the game begins. the video was well received by the Hawks fans. I suppose they need something to be excited about since their team rarely delivers...
after the teams warmed up and the anthem was sung, the game began. I was disappointed to see that Hannu Toivonen was in net for the Blues since I was hoping to see Manny Legace, but I shrugged it off and just prepared to enjoy the game. almost immediately I found myself analyzing nearly every play made and finding most decisions to be wrong. for every pass, deke and shot I would try to imagine what Lidstrom or Zetterberg would have done instead, and then try to continue the play from there in my head. it was difficult to try to imagine what Datsyuk would have done because he is, as some of you already know, a ninja, which makes him very unpredictable. this made the game a bit more interesting and made me even further appreciate the team here in Detroit. Chicago is a relatively young team with a lot of players without a lot of experience, and it shows in their play. I saw them make a lot of mistakes synonymous with rookie players. a symptom of this is the attitude of the fans. after having a bad team for so long, the fans have been forced to lower their standards. if there is ruckus among the crowd at a Wings game, then you know that something substantial just happened. however, standard and mediocre plays generally induced a cacophony of "oohs" and "ahhs" from the Chicago crowd. orthodox plays like dump ins from center ice that happen to be on net were received by excited anticipation by most of those in attendance.
for those of you who haven't been to a hockey game, then you are probably unaware of this, but there are people who clear off the ice during commercial breaks. while the players are skating and tearing up the ice, snow starts to build up and it makes skating more difficult, so whenever there are commercials a few people come out with shovels to clear some of the snow off around the nets where most of the action takes place. in Detroit, these people are generally males, seemingly in their late teens, maybe early 20s. but in Chicago, just to further reiterate that hockey games are not to be viewed as the only source of entertainment at the UC, the people that clear the ice are very attractive, very young women wearing pink jackets and bunny ears, who I deemed the Playboy Shovel Bunnies.
Playboy Shovel Bunnies
Playboy Shovel Bunnies video. once again, sorry for the quality.
to be fair, they don't always dress that way. I was watching a Chicago game on television and they showed them briefly and they weren't wearing pink jackets or bunny ears. instead a bikini top was solely responsible for concealing their upper bodies. apparently they aren't called the Playboy Shovel Bunnies, but the Chicago Blackhawks Ice Crew. I found this to be kind of ridiculous, but I'm certainly not inclined to complain...
anyhow, the game started off pretty slow. no goals were scored in the first period, and nothing else particularly interesting happened. thankfully things got exciting during the intermission due to a riveting mascot game.
I swear one of those is a dinosaur.
sorry about the shaky-cam. I was trying to make it edgy.
fortunately things picked up in the second. St. Louis struck first with a goal about halfway through the second period, but Chicago tied it with a couple minutes left, making it 1-1 going into the third. Chicago went up 2-1 with about 11 minutes left, but St. Louis quickly answered back with a goal tying it up at 2. with just a couple minutes left in the game it looked like they were headed to overtime, but Tkachuk scored on a breakaway on a steal after Kane lost control of the puck, putting the Blues up 3-2 with just over a minute left. however, Chicago refused to fucking die and tied it up less than 30 seconds later, forcing the game into overtime, and this was when I got swept up in the ineluctable excitement of the game. Chicago went on to win in overtime on a goal by Kane off a rebound, redeeming himself for the giveaway that lead to Tkachuck's go-ahead goal that almost made them lose. this outcome came much to Dave's dismay, as he was hoping for the home team to lose. admittedly, so was I, but I enjoyed the end of the game too much to care about that.
as the crowd cheered and the players celebrated on the ice, Dave and I started to make our way out of the stadium. we went to the bathroom before we left and I overheard conversations between ecstatic Blackhawks fans about what an "amazing game" it was, additional proof of the lowered standards there. much of the game was fairly dull, although I will admit that once it got heated at the very end and during overtime, things got quite interesting.
after leaving the arena we made our way to the El. along the way we encountered an SUV full of kids who decided to honk the horn and scream out the window at us as they passed by. apparently they did so rather thoughtlessly as they were forced to stop at a red light not more than roughly 75 feet in front of us, and were, I assume, immediately made to feel like jackasses.
after the game we headed to the Melting Pot to enjoy a very nice and pleasantly lengthy dinner. we discussed life and philosophy and shared observations over some delicious fondue. Dave dominated most of the conversation, as he has a tendency to do, although I've never minded. he sees things in a way completely different from me and takes many things into great consideration that I generally never even provide a second thought. this uniqueness has inspired many great monologues that I've had the enjoyment of... I guess "interpreting" would be the most accurate word.
after dinner we went back to his apartment and started watching Gangs of New York and I started writing about today. just a couple minutes into the movie I remembered how badass that film is. we're about an hour into it right now, and we both just decided to switch it up to Venture Bros., which I must provide my undivided attention, so it's time for me to leave.
"oh! was it worth it Shaq?!"
-jon
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
From the Archives: Chicago - 3/23/08
From the Archives: Chicago - 3/22/08
Saturday, March 22, 2008
11:38 am
I open my eyes, expecting to find myself still playing Hunter, but instead the title screen of Gladiator is playing on the television, my laptop is open and lying in front of me, my desktop icons are inexplicably and mysteriously missing and I can't hear anything out of my left ear except for a very slight humming sound. the clock says that it's just past four in the morning so I've apparently been asleep for quite a while. I get up and walk out to the kitchen. I notice that QP's door is open so I peek inside to find it uninhabited. I assume that he slept wherever it is he left to last night and I briefly wonder if maybe he's walking up to a similar unpleasant feeling right now. but hell, from what I've heard, waking up in an apartment not his own to find half of his auditory senses rendered incapable seems like operating procedure for him. but for me this is foreign goddamn territory to the point where I'm keeping a close eye on the treetops. I'm still feeling a bit wobbly, so I just grab my toothbrush out of my suitcase, brush my teeth, and then stumble back onto the futon to get some more sleep.
when I wake back up it feels like several days have passed, but in reality it's only been a couple hours. The Gladiator title screen continues to play on repeat and my left ear is still proving to be ineffective. both my body and mind are resentful for what I did to them last night and they are making it clear that they are unhappy with me. my brain is pounding to try to escape its skull prison and my stomach feels eager to leave my body. I lie there for a few minutes in agony, then force myself to get up and drink something, which makes me feel quite a bit better. Dave is still asleep so I grab my laptop, quickly solve the case of the missing desktop icons, and then start writing.
well, I managed to catch up a bit on what happened yesterday. Dave woke up not too long ago and we almost simultaneously realized that we had not finished off Hunter last night and then immediately acknowledged the necessity to do so, which means I'm off to do some more slaying.
[expletive deleted]
-jon
3:26 pm
we have, once again, successfully completed Hunter: The Reckoning. I don't know how many times I've beaten that game, how many zombies I've killed while playing it, or how many hours of my life it has claimed, but frankly, I don't think I want to know. actually, it would be nice to know the kill count, but I don't care to be burdened with an answer to either of the other questions.
now we're watching Smokin' Aces and awaiting the arrival of the Mexican food that we ordered from Carbon while I'm still trying to catch up a bit on previous entries. fortunately, it looks like we're not doing much today and I'll get a chance to rest a bit and enjoy a few movies.
…
well, a few hours have passed and I've made only marginal progress. I ended up focusing mostly on the movie and talking to people online while chatting with Dave a bit and commenting on the movie. right now we're watching The Kingdom, but Dave just ran out to the store with a friend of his who picked him up so I paused it.
well, I just stumbled across something that I, personally, find extraordinarily hilarious. right now I'm working on the entry for the first day. I've got most of the writing done so I'm just looking around for a few web sites I want to link to and figuring out the coding since I don't really know any html or anything. I use Firefox and I have an add-on installed called Googlepedia. what it does is whenever you do a Google search it also searches for the most relevant Wikipedia article and displays the Google results on the left and the Wikipedia article on the right. for instance, if you search for "detroit red wings" you will get these results:
search results with Googlepedia
as I was reading through what I had written on the first day, I decided that the "Auto Suck" I mentioned probably deserves some visual clarification so I Googled "auto suck 12 volt" to find an acceptable web site to link to and was quite surprised by what Wikipedia returned…
resourceful much?
now, I know MacGyver was renowned for his tactical use of common items, but his intricately improvised devices were usually conceived in order to escape an immediate life or death situation; not to get his rocks off during a boring stakeout using a car cigarette lighter and a vacuum attachment. but I suppose if I was that resourceful I wouldn't conform to conventional masturbation either.
well, back to the movie for me. catch ya later.
defying the laws of odor.
-jon
8:47 pm
okay, so, I lied about getting stuff done. actually I surfed the net, talked to a few people on instant messenger and listened to the Detroit Red Wings game online. right now our boys are up 4 - 1 over the Columbus Blue Jackets. Dave's back from the store and just got done telling me a story about it. his friend, Logan, picked him up. Logan has a couple friends visiting from out of town and decided to give them an abridged tour of the city. they drove by campus and checked out a few buildings and then he drove to the south side to check out the ghetto. as Dave put it, "we went to the ghetto. we were driving pretty fast, like you would on an African safari." kind of makes me wish I had tagged along, but now is no time for regrets. we're about to finish watching The Kingdom and then some Venture Bros. I'll catch you cats on the flip side.
Pavel Datsyuk is a Ninja.
-jon
From the Archives: Chicago - 3/21/08
Friday, March 21, 2008
10:56 am
well, I didn't quite get to finish where I left off last night due to extraneous circumstances I'd rather not detail here. but what I will say is that we were watching a Steven Seagal movie called Belly of the Beast which is probably more ridiculous than you can imagine it. then the Chinese food arrived, we ate, and finished watching the movie. after laughing at the absurdity of the godlike power of Seagal, we both went to sleep.
Seagal is a vengeful god.
before passing out last night I was going to write about the rest of the day so I'll continue it here instead. after the laptop died on the bus I had very little left to do. I tried reading a bit more while drowning out the sounds of the movie and managed to finish a couple more short stories which I only vaguely remember now. we made another stop for a little while to get something to eat, but I wasn't hungry so I just walked around for a few minutes and called Dave to let him know that the driver notified us that we'd be arriving in about an hour, which turned out to be wrong since he didn't take the one hour time change into account and I didn't bother confirming his accuracy. once we left I continued reading just a bit more, and then watched The Three Stooges for about half an hour while debating whether or not I should try talking to the girl behind me again or the girl in front of me. I decided that, since I already tried talking to the girl behind me long before and failed, I wouldn't bother again, and the girl in front of me kept receiving phone calls at about five minute intervals, and reading while waiting for the next, so I didn't want to disturb her. whenever I'm reading something and someone interrupts me I always find it annoying. so instead I just kept watching The Stooges and enduring boredom.
not too long after that, thankfully, we arrived at Union Station, so I gathered my bags, and headed inside the station to escape the wind. Dave had arrived there nearly an hour early due to the incorrect ETA that the driver had provided at the last stop and he called me about forty minutes before we'd gotten there to ask where we were. I told him on the phone that the driver apparently didn't acknowledge time zones so it was still going to be a while. I called Dave and notified him of my arrival, but he didn't answer, so I waited a for him to call back while wandering around and enjoying the aesthetic of the station. as I was approaching the Great Hall my phone started to ring. it was Dave calling me back and he said that he would be there within a couple minutes, so I took a seat on one of the benches to wait.
behold my superior skills of artistry and be amazed.
once he got there we left to head back to his apartment, stopping at Qdoba's on the way to grab something to eat. this venture from the station to his place made me very regretful of how much I packed because my arms were tired and my hands sore after only five or six blocks, about half of the way. thankfully I got a short rest once we got to the El. for those of you unfamiliar with it, the El is the name for Chicago's rapid transit line, which consists of subway and elevated rails. actually it's called the "L" but I'm going to call it the El so deal with it. after the treacherous journey was over and we made it to his apartment the first thing I noticed was a giant, and presumably stolen, street sign among a bit of a mess in the front room.
front room.
most lenient "no fatties" rule ever.
I was finally able to relieve my limbs, have a seat, and enjoy the delicious queso dip from Qdoba's. after that we chatted a bit more and finished sharing a couple stories we had started on the walk over. we went over to his friend Tim's apartment to get Dave's computer and then carried everything back to his pad to set it up.
after talking a bit more and setting up his computer we decided to head back over to Tim's but before we left I went to the bathroom. when I walked in the first thing I observed was America the Book and The Alphabet of Manliness leaning against the wall on top of the toilet, which pleased me.
that gorilla had it coming.
but it was right after this, when I looked to the right of the toilet, that I spotted a very intense looking plunger, which I felt compelled to closely examine.
the only plunger Seagal is willing to use.
once I felt adequately acquainted with the contraption I went back out to the kitchen and then Dave went to the bathroom. while he was in there, I decided to investigate the kitchen a bit. I looked around and saw dirty cups and shot glasses with remnants of liquor and mixed drinks left in them. I looked in the refrigerator, finding very little inhabiting it, which is not surprising considering that the tenants are both males in their 20s. I opened the freezer to find that it was even more barren than the fridge. all I discovered in there were two ice trays and about thirteen cents in change; a dime and three pennies, possibly four since it looked like two might have been stuck together.
back in my grandma's day that was enough to buy a Coke.
we walked over to Tim's apartment and fired up the Xbox 360 to play Halo 3. I attempted to find a control scheme that would allow me to successfully utilize the Guitar Hero 3 controller but my efforts were, unfortunately, all in vain so I resorted to using a standard Xbox 360 controller. we started playing some ranked Team Slayer and I consistently annihilated most everyone on the opposing team, and in a game of Shotty Snipers on Valhalla I actually had more kills than the opposing team of four people combined. if you play Halo that ought to mean something to you, but if you don't then it doesn't really matter. I must admit that much of this success was attributed to my icon, which, for those of you who have recently played Halo 3 with me will know, is the mauve (pronounced moh-vay) unicorn and lavender explosion. I believe it is this icon that provides me my powers. however, this achievement paled in comparison to Dave's impressive verbal abuse towards the opposition as Dolomite, one of his angry black personas, spouting out comments such as "I will eat yo' babies, Motherfucker!" it's the voice that really makes the character but that, unfortunately, cannot be conveyed through this medium.
after playing Halo for a while we called it quits and walked back to Dave's, ordered the Chinese, and put the movie on which brings us full circle to where I left off last night.
well, I've managed to finish up yesterday, but we're about to head out so I'm off.
"I liked you much better as a bitch!"
-jon
11:42 pm
time to play a little catch up, so here are today's events thus far: when I woke up Dave was still sleeping so I used that time to write earlier. once Dave awoke we went to a deli a couple blocks away called Kathy De's for lunch. since they're going to be closed all weekend for Easter they were trying to get rid of everything so our subs and salads were half off, which was mighty sweet. we went back to Dave's to eat and then decided to repair to Tim's to hang out with him and play some Halo. Tim and Dave talked about a few people they knew at the fraternity that Dave was in a couple years back while I focused solely on spreading public awareness of the supremacy of whatever color I happened to be for that game by eradicating Master Chiefs and Elites that differed in complexion. I was, once again, rocking out the mauve unicorn and lavender explosion so I was performing spectacularly. after a while a couple of their friends, Noah and Kurt, stopped by to hang out for a little while. they talked while I played Halo and won a few games of Lone Wolves. Noah drove us all to a grocery store so we could pick up a few drinks and then he dropped Dave and me off at his apartment. Dave and I made a couple drinks (gin and Fresca) and then decided to tackle our ritualistic Hunter: The Reckoning run through. for those of you who have not had the pleasure of playing it, it's a game of unlimited ammo and seemingly endless zombies, so if perpetual and repetitious zombie-slaughtering is your bag, I'd definitely recommend checking it out.
we got through a level or two and then the effects of the gin started creeping up on us. we took a break from Hunter to warm up the leftover Chinese from the night before and then QP, Dave's roommate, stopped in with his friend so we talked to them for a bit before they left. we made a couple more drinks, devoured most of the Chinese, and then got back to de-animating the recently reanimated. once the gin became more prevalent, so did Dolomite. one of the interesting characteristics of this personality is that he speaks, almost exclusively, in bizarre declarative statements that end with the exclamation of the word "motherfucker." I'm unable to remember most of what was said, but I do distinctly remember him saying "I'll teach you to bleed red, Motherfucker!" and "this isn't the Declaration of Independence, Motherfucker! this is the Declaration of Beef Jerky!"
and this is where we're at now. we've occasionally been taking breaks to make a drink or grab something to eat, so I've been chatting with a couple people online and writing here as we go along. I was talking to a this kid I met online who prefers to be referred to as "Dan," but whose actual name conjures painful memories. I said something to him along the lines of "right now my friend is in his kitchen talking to his ramen noodles as his imaginary black persona named Dolomite." I don't know why I said this to him, especially considering it was completely unsolicited as there was a short silence in the conversation preceding that statement.
we've got some music playing in the background to accompany our merciless slaughter of the undead, stone gargoyles, vampires, exploding spiders, jabberwockies, and the like. we started with some Led Zeppelin which makes me realize that I don't listen to nearly enough of them. while there was some downtime in the game between levels, we started talking about music and after a short while the conversation turned toward a local band called Wyatt Hood who are admirably reminiscent of older bands, including Led Zeppelin and Lynyrd Skynyd, among others. this mention of them has us both itching to listen to them, so we throw on some Wyatt Hood and revel in their sound. by this time the gin is in full effect and we both really let the tunes envelop us. I now know what it feels like to be that annoying drunk guy at a concert who gets way too into the music. they are an amazing group and everytime I listen to them they reiterate and make abundantly clear every disappointment I see with most modern music. they possess a natural patience and musical diversity that it seems many bands are incapable of. Dave said something about them to the effect of, "that guy can make his guitar sing for him, and that's real talent," which I agree with; he really can make those strings work wonders. seriously, check 'em out.
well, I just prepared myself another drink and I'm just beginning to flirt with high gear, so it is in this state I leave you. time for me to kill countless more zombies and then get some much needed rest. I'll see ya on the other side.
I can't remember if it was a homing suppository or anal GPS.
-jon
From the Archives: Chicago - 3/20/08
Thursday, March 20, 2008
8:18 am
I look at the clock and it informs me that it's approaching 5 o'clock in the morning. I've been unable to sleep and I need to be awake at seven, which means even if I pass out at this instant I'm still only looking at about two hours of sleep, which will just leave me more drained than if I decide to endure the two hours awake. so instead of continuing to hopelessly try to get to sleep, I keep writing and every once in a while allow myself to be distracted by the television. I just put in the third disc of Titus, and I'm remembering why I used to like the show so much. sure, it pales in comparison to Arrested Development (which, if you're unfamiliar with, shame on you. but that rant can wait until another day), what I consider the deity of all television shows, but that, by no means, makes it bad. it's kind of like comparing Dion Phaneuf to Nicklas Lidstrom. Lidstrom separates himself from the pack in almost every category available and generally does so by an astounding margin. he is sublime in his play, nearly flawless in his foresight, and he can he can read the game better than almost anyone that's ever played it, and he manages to do it with such grace, such elegance, that when you watch him perform you think to yourself, "well, shit, I could do that. give me a stick, strap a pair of skates on me and write me a check for a few million dollars." he is truly sui generis. and then there's Phaneuf; he can be a bit improvident and may not always show the best judgment. many times when he goes in for that big hit he ends up on the ice just like his target. he's also been known to stumble a bit when he's frustrated. However, he's still a great defenseman, and although it may not always look pretty, he gets the job done. I have similar feelings about Titus; it's good, but it's not Lidstrom-good.
after I write a bit more, I find myself becoming distracted more often and at longer intervals. I don't realize it yet, but I'm becoming increasingly tired, so I succumb to my desire for stimulation and focus entirely on Titus. lately I've been trying to limit the amount of "entertainment" I allow myself to enjoy and try to focus on more fruitful activities, but I decide to let myself indulge a bit now. by this point, it's past seven and I need to be leaving soon. I hear Monica rustling herself out of bed and she walks in to find me typing on my laptop and inquires if I had slept at all. I admit that I had not and she shakes her head at me. I've been having a bit of a problem with that lately. sleeping, that is. I can never get to sleep at a decent hour and then sleep for a prolonged duration which usually conflicts with other activities I have planned for that day since unconsciousness tends to make it difficult to attend to prior engagements. I get up and begin preparing for my departure. I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, gather my things, put on my shoes and coat, then head downstairs and say my goodbyes to my friend who was kind enough to lend me her couch for the night. at this point I head out on my arduous two block journey. now, two blocks certainly isn't a great distance to have to travel, but it's cold, windy, and I'm carrying a fair amount of luggage because I am an inexplicably paranoid over-packer.
once I make it down one block I am forced to wait for the crosswalk. I'm surprised to see so many people out so early in the morning, and assume that most of them are at least borderline insane. at the crosswalk there is another girl waiting for the light. it changes and we both begin crossing the street. at first she fails to notice me, but once we get all the way across she becomes aware of my presence. her pace quickens a little, but I'm still keeping stride with her, though I'm not making a particular effort to. I suppose I can't blame her; seeing a very tall person in a long black trench coat carrying a suitcase that could, feasibly, hold a human body if dismembered properly can instill a very legitimate fear in a person, even on a busy city street.
eventually the girl enters a building off to the right and I continue down the street, briefly considering how much potential worry I could cause her if I pursued her, but only for a moment's amusement. I reach another crosswalk and must wait for the light to change once again, and when it does I proceed to the other side of the street. at this point the stop is within sight, and I'm hoping to spot other awkward-looking strangers with overstuffed luggage standing around a street sign waiting for their ride to arrive. however, at this point, it appears that I'm the first (and possibly the only) one to arrive, so I have a seat and wait. I take out my notepad and scribble down a couple things to write (most of which are actually in this very spiel) but soon the wind convinces me to put on my gloves, and since I am not eager to discover the extent of my inability to write with gloves on, I instead resort to my memory to store whatever else I want to write.
a few other people show up at the stop and we wait. the bus arrives, the driver gets out and greets everyone and instructs us where to place our luggage, and then everyone hops on board. our driver is a slightly older black gentleman, perhaps 45 years of age, and he's quite charismatic and funny.
I'm on the bus right now and it seems we've reached our next stop and my battery seems to be running a bit low, so I guess now is as good a time as any to put this entry on a temporary hiatus.
Arrested Development > soup > everything else.
-jon
11:00-ish
back on the road again. I've spent the last decent chunk of time reading, which proved to be a tad difficult. I started one book and decided that my pathetic grasp of the English language would not provide a sufficient understanding of what the hell I was reading. then I started another and came to the (possibly false) conclusion that there were other books in the series that I should probably read before it. so then I tried another one (I brought several, just in case these problems should present themselves) and decided that was my best bet. it is a collection of short stories, the first of which is roughly 50 pages, so I decided to read that. once again, I was made to feel borderline retarded since there was much I did not understand, but was able to derive most of the meaning from context provided by what I understood. one factor that aided in this difficulty was the movie that was playing on the bus, which, I believe, is called Man of the House. whether it's called that are not, it's that fairly annoying Disney movie starring Chevy Chase and Jonathan Taylor Thomas, both of whom have been rightfully allowed to sink into obscurity. the one where they join that little Indian tribe thing. you know the one I'm talking about; it's the one where the main characters learn a lesson from overcoming a problem. yeah, it's that one.
I feel it is worth straying from this story for just a moment to mention that we just passed a billboard advertising the Lion's Den Adult Superstore off of Exit 12 on I-94. I thought it an important point to bring up, so if you're interested, do check it out. I'm sure it's wonderful. (I would also like to mention that I am in no way associated with the Lion's Den Superstore off of Exit 12, nor have I even had any contact of any sort with the aforementioned vendor of, presumably, sex toys and sex enhancers possibly including, but not limited to, dildo trees, forehead strap-ons, speculums, vibrators made to look like the Prophet Muhammad , anal hamster wheels, Meryl Streep blow-up dolls, genitalia rings, Xenu anal beads, intercourse hammocks, and if you go on the right day and ask for the right person, you might even be able to attain the conveniently travel sized Auto Suck which can be powered by your car's cigarette lighter. for examples of other novelties you may be able to find and purchase there, you may want to consult this article.) but, I digress.
anyway, back to what I was talking about. the movie did prove to be rather distracting while I was trying to read, but I managed to finish the story. I didn't find it to be spectacular, but it was enjoyable and helped kill some time on this fairly long trip. in fact I may be well across state borders without even being aware due to my utter lack of proper observation of highway signs.
well now, it would appear I've gotten quite a bit ahead of myself. there is one rather noteworthy point I have yet to discuss. after we made our first stop and decided to take a break from writing, I made the extremely uncharacteristic decision to accost a girl sitting a few rows behind me. I think she had been sleeping before we arrived at the Ann Arbor stop, but I noticed that she had awoken when the driver announced something over the loudspeaker. she is traveling with another friend, who is still sleeping, and since I didn't have any desire to write or read at the moment (which is pretty much what my activities are limited to at the moment) I went and sat in the row in front of her and kindly asked if she wouldn't mind chatting a bit, assuming she wasn't too tired (I wanted to make it clear that I wouldn't think her impolite for wanting to sleep). unfortunately, she did seem rather tired and said that she intended on sleeping since she has a much longer trip scheduled than I do and it was still rather early in the morning. I am still in the row directly in front of her and she was sleeping just a few moments ago but was once again awoken by an announcement by our admirably funny and charming bus driver that we'd soon be making another stop. now I feel a just a tad bit creepy for writing about her while she is sitting within such close proximity. perhaps after this stop I will find someone worthy of sharing idle conversation with, but for now, friends, I must leave you, as I was just informed that my battery is at a perilous low.
giving grammar the middle finger.
-jon
10:38 pm
well, thankfully, I am off the bus, sitting on a futon at the apartment, and awaiting the delivery of the Chinese that we ordered not too long ago. apparently it was a very perplexing call on the restaurant's end because after we called and ordered, they called us back asking what we ordered. it seems they still have much to learn about Engrish.
you want egg roll with that?!
-jon