Good-Bye Chicago

Today I left Chicago for a long time. There will be no going back for at least 12 weeks, and in the mean time, I will move to a new state, meet with "industry people", and, hopefully, come closer to achieving my dream of becoming a film maker. The ride back on the train was a strange one. I left at three on the California Zephyr--a train whose last stop will be my new home in just 9 days. The superliner trains like that, they travel quietly. It was like watching the Midwest and its Mecca pass by me through a veil. The windows were a little dirty, and that sound, or that absence of sound made me feel invisible. I fell asleep for a bit and woke to the sun setting red over the cornfields and wind farms and a text message from my mother. The one time my train is on time, she's running late. But it's for the sake of change. She's applying for a full-time job and a chance to break away from the smallness of Rock Island. I love her.
I am experience so much right now, sitting on my bed writing this. A little loss, a little sadness, but also overwhelming excitement and happiness--I will finally get sunshine and a chance to be who I want to be--a mover and shaker of my culture. And I feel so much love. These past four days I've spent with friends have been amazing. In the three semesters I've spent at Columbia, I have met some of the most wonderful people. People who liked me as I was where I was, and people whom I could love for their creativity and kindness. Today and yesterday, especially, I understood that devout thanksgiving of which Emerson spoke. I will miss these people every day, but with the wonderful knowledge that they will not cease to be a part of my life. They will continue to make me laugh and smile. They will continue to amaze me with their creativity and wit. And, hopefully, I will remain with them as well.
So perhaps it is not loss that I feel. Perhaps I'm a little sore from expanding my horizons and my heart.
My friends, if you read this, I love you. I love each and every one of you, and I will try my hardest to remain with you, even from "my cottage in the Western night."

Wow, this is exhilerating. I'm writing again, I have a voice again, and it's all because I've stopped being afraid for just a moment and counted my blessings.

I'm attaching Part 3 of Ginsberg's Howl. I think it's appropriate in its sentiment, and, partially, in location. I am in Rock(Is)land and soon I will be west. Love it. Chicago, like Rock(Is)land, is an asylum. Get out and join me, Comrades.

                   III

      Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland
             where you're madder than I am
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you must feel very strange
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you imitate the shade of my mother
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you laugh at this invisible humor
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where we are great writers on the same dreadful
             typewriter
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where your condition has become serious and
             is reported on the radio
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where the faculties of the skull no longer admit
             the worms of the senses
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you drink the tea of the breasts of the
             spinsters of Utica
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the
             harpies of the Bronx
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you scream in a straightjacket that you're
             losing the game of the actual pingpong of the
             abyss
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul
             is innocent and immortal it should never die
             ungodly in an armed madhouse
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where fifty more shocks will never return your
             soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
             cross in the void
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you accuse your doctors of insanity and
             plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the
             fascist national Golgotha
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where you will split the heavens of Long Island
             and resurrect your living human Jesus from the
             superhuman tomb
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com-
             rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where we hug and kiss the United States under
             our bedsheets the United States that coughs all
             night and won't let us sleep
      I'm with you in Rockland
             where we wake up electrified out of the coma
             by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the
             roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the
             hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col-
             lapse O skinny legions run outside O starry
             spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is
             here O victory forget your underwear we're
             free
      I'm with you in Rockland
             in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-
             journey on the highway across America in tears
             to the door of my cottage in the Western night 

The Waiting Place, The Waiting Place

It's funny how whenever my life is most confusing, I turn to children's books. Yesterday, I reread both Oh the Places You'll Go and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane and I felt at peace. I still haven't found a car, and the search is becoming more and more stressful. Plus it is a constant reminder of the imminent and drastic journey that is waiting for me on January 17th.
But isn't it exciting?
Actually, yesterday, I finally left my house and ventured into the little hell that is Rock Island. My friend Joe and I went to the budding hookah bar in The District and smoked for awhile. We discussed our future plans. He has been reading about chakras and about the hero's journey, which I just finished studying in my mystical consciousness class. I think I've slain the ogre, and the forest is waiting. The point is, we discussed this for a long while. A (former?) friend came in with another acquaintance (my accquaintance, his hook up?) and completely ignored me. For the first time in my life in Rock Island, I realized that I just didn't care and kept talking. Joe and I went along The River after we had finished with our hookah and it has never looked more beautiful. I could see so many stars, and the water was clear and cold. Snow and ice created a shimmer and I felt at home. I wasn't transient. My boxes didn't matter. My worries floated away on the ice and shimmered and became beautiful. And I remembered "He makes everything beautiful in its time." And I thanked God.
Then we heard the train whistle, so Joe and I scrambled up the bank and ran (after an hour and a half of hookah) and ran to beat it. When we reached the street, there was no train. So we laughed (after an hour and a half of hookah and running through the cold and on ice) until we could barely breathe. It felt so good. Rock Island redeemed itself for a little bit, and I remembered that no matter what, I come from The River. Nothing can stop me just like The River never stops. I'm awesome. The world is nothing but promise. And Dr. Seuss and Kate DiCamillo confirmed this for me. Love and conquer. That is all I can hope to do.

I have no idea if this made any sense, but damn it felt good.

The Essential New Year's Eve Post

Once again, I've been lazy. That's how I do with these thingies.
I suppose I'll have to buck up and keep you, my loyal followers, entertained and amused.
Anyway, 17 days until I move to Los Angeles. Six days until I hit Chicago again. It's all happening so fast.
Here are my LA updates:
-I have a place to live in Glendale/Burbank with two seemingly awesome roommates.
-I am looking for a car.
-I am applying for jobs for weekends/nights. If anyone has any ideas of where I can apply, let me know.
-If I have Rock Island followers (very doubtful, but mad props if there are), come in and see me. It's the last time you can get delicious ice cream treats that I made.
-My room is in boxes. For all intents and purposes, I think I'm transient.
-No idea what's going to happen or with whom I am staying in Chicago. Possibly Nick, possibly anyone else.
-One of my very best friends, my dearest Teenerz, is a hot mess and I may or may not get to see her again until May. I'm distraught. Teenerz, I will do my best to get to DeKalb. If not, I shall write you and call you and all of that important goo.
-If you know folks in California, let them know I'm coming and send me their contact info. Please. I don't want to be lonely.

So that's about it. If you, dear reader/follower/browser/creepass stalker can help or encourage, keep me posted.
I'll try and do the same.

Now, for the current situation. The moment:
My New Year's plans to sit at home and watch LotR yet again got screwed up by Michaela's having plans (she 14, for goodness sake!), and my parents having plans, and the neighbors coming over. So it looks like it might just be the first one for me. I'm a little upset, but the first one, as I told one of my adoring fans (okay, not fan, but whatever) last night, holds all of life's answers. I watch it every New Year's Eve, and I swear it gives me direction. It's like talking to God indirectly, I've decided.
Does that make Peter, Fran, and Philippa prophets?

I have lost my creativity recently. My ideas have gone away when I need them most, and I think it's because I am afraid. Maybe I need to be inspired. General Patton, my hero, never got scared. Or if something scared him, he met it head on. Rommel, for example, should have scared the living daylights out of any military tactician, but Patton read his book. Those glorious bastards. I need to read something or see something that will make me believe I have ability. Or will at least clear my head enough to let me think. This brain in my head has rallied in mutiny, and it's running away with all my thoughts so that I can't trace it.

I'm out for now. Off to rock out to Guitar Hero until it's appropriate to hear God through Frodo and a little guy named Sam G.

It's Been Far Too Long

I am back in Rock Island. Funny how this is where I get my best writing done. I think it has to do with The River.
But damn it, I am so sad. I think. I'm not actually sure how to feel right now, because I am also ecstatically happy, anxious, excited, and ready for Christmas.
Nick loaned me The Princess Bride and it was wonderful to finish a novel again. And to be so engrossed I could read it in a day. For those few hours, I felt like myself, completely, entirely, and wonderfully. I can't wait to devour another book. Or to talk about this one. I love when people give me books. Honestly, aside from going to the movie theater to watch a movie, there is nothing more connective that I can think of. More genuinely connective. There is an intimacy to words that I cannot even begin to explain because I don't know if anyone else shares my sentiments. And with movies in the theater, there is this shared experience and celebration of imagination. People are silent and still and the collective consciousness prevails for that two hours.
I hate to see relationships that work change. And I just went a changed a lot of them. Changing relationships means that you usually have to express sentimentality, and I am really bad at it. I truly do care about people. I love--yes LOVE--most of my friends. But it's so hard to express that. It's so hard to just walk up to... oh, we'll say Christine or Andy since they were near-successes in the good-bye department and say "I love you and I love that you are in my life, so please stay, even if it means that it will be in a different capacity because I want to stay in yours" without missing the point or sounding clinical. Also, too many people gave me gifts. Give me your time, maybe write a note, but gifts? Oh, they were all charming and wonderful gifts--but it's so uncomfortable and I can't explain why. Let me just say that I did not receive a single gifty-gift for my birthday this year. Just a tattoo. And it was the most perfect birthday ever except the one where I got Chicklet, but giving a living creature as a gift also constitutes not a gifty-gift. Especially when it's Chicklet.
The point is, I am sad and confused and I really just want another night like Friday night, and another night like Saturday night, and maybe Tuesday night as well when I had tea that turned out to be coffee with Jordan. There was something terribly funny about meeting in the middle during all that snow fall.

Fairy tale later today, I PROMISE. I need to get lunch and unpack.

Thank You, Thank You

In the spirit of the holiday, I suppose I should make a list of... 50 things for which I am Thankful. This can include people, things, or events.

1. My faith--Relient K sums it up best with "For the Moments I Feel Faint."
2. Cream Soda--As much as you should "never underestimate my Jesus", also never underestimate the power of your favorite beverage after a long day.
3. My parents--Dad is a crime-fighter and Mom saves little kids, even if just for a little bit during their school week.
4. Michaela--I love that girl more than anyone can know.
5. Caleb--even though he hates me.
6. The Mississippi River--my soul and my car keys are there.
7. The jobs I've had--from Whitey's to Kenwood to PacSun to The Cage, I've yet to have a bad job or a bad boss.
8. Bathrooms--I can't help it, but I just love bathrooms. It's the one place where, even in public, you are offered a good amount of privacy.
9. "All These Things that I've Done" by The Killers--nothing like dancing anywhere anyhow and singing along with nearly anyone.
10. Cheeseburgers--best food ever. Medium well with either American, Swiss, Provolone, or Cheddar cheeses, ketchup, mustard, and (maybe) three pickle chips.
11. Chips and Cheesy Salsa--I love this shit.
12. Miss Mittens--We've been together for nearly 15 years, and she has yet to fail me or fight me.
13. My pets-Ariel and Jack, I love you.
14. My new tattoo.
15. Talking on AIM every day with Nathaniel.
16. Talking to Cody at least 2 times a week in the film offices.
17. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring--BEST MOVIE EVER. No argument.
18. Zoolander and Tropic Thunder--Ben Stiller, keep doing what you do.
19. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Toulane--great book.
20. Summertime bike rides along the bike path with a camera.
21. Swing sets.
22. Chick flicks that film kids make fun of me for.
23. My hooker boots.
24. Revelations that tell me to start a cultural revolution. Yeah, it's true. I'm the new Ginsberg, and I've already picked my Kerouac. Auditions for Cassady and Burroughs begin tomorrow.
25. Hair dye and hair cuts and change.
26. The guys on the 20th floor of 2 East 8th--while some of you will be getting a sub-category, all of you together (Andy, Mike, Connor, Justin, and Austin), you all fill this collective need in my life for friends and neighbors and a safe space when bad things happen and I'm in crummy Chicago.
27. Andy Hannon--You are a great friend who reminds me of what I am capable. I only hope you can see it in yourself and realize that you are one of the coolest fuckers on this planet. I cannot believe I just wrote that word--and I did it for you Hannon--something that rare means you must be special.
28. Mike Altstadt--sorry if I treat you like my kid at times, I know I'm not your mom, but you never fail at brightening my day with Castle Crashers, Oreos, or just a hug.
29. Justin Spilker--I cannot wait to call you when I meet celebrities. I'll miss you a lot.
30. Christine Fiedler--Girl, you're my only female friend, and you have no idea what that means to me. You're also the greatest at saving my ass in a problem spot.
31. Wrigleyville.
32. Michaela's Nintendo Wii.
33. French horn music at Christmastime.
34. Midge the 1996 Deep Plum Honda Odyssey minivan that I love.
35. TAing with Riley on Tuesdays.
36. Sabrina Drobnich--best roommate I could have gotten.
37. Amtrak Trains--sans terrorists with meat tenderizers and potato mashers.
38. Watching movies in the theater--It never gets old. Milk reminded me of this recently when everyone still managed to leave smiling after an assassination.
39. Michael Bay movies, Vin Diesel movies, and other guilty pleasure films and friends like Jim who tolerate them because of either good scores or complete badasserie. Jim, I'm also supremely thankful for you, and I think you're as awesome as a Bay film.
40. Saturdays in The Cage--Nick is terrible and mean, Dan is hilarious and my greatest superior, Mac is probably drunk off of panc-juice or in need of panc-porn, Jon is geeking out over something Star Wars or Batman related, and everyone else is just in and out, except JJ who is napping.
41. Smoking Hookah-it's delicious and relaxing.
42. Having friends in my gen. ed. classes--Holden Wilson and Stefan Morrison are lifesavers.
43. Daniel Plainview being created and perfected in There Will Be Blood.
44. Matchbox Twenty--yes, they're my favorite band and I'm finally comfortable admitting it.
45. Whitey's Ice Cream and Oreos--together, they are perfection.
46. My mom's tacos.
47. Pink and Green Chuck Taylors--the only kind of Chucks for me are the ones that are pink and green.
48. Reading new books with friends--1984 anyone? Me and Jordan loved it, and so will you.
49. Watching a country on the brink of change--and no, B-Rock isn't that change. WE are. S0 perhaps what I am thankful for in this slot is the recent surge of power that I feel as an individual part of the collective consciousness.
50. Troy Polamalu on the Pittsburgh Steelers--He can jump over men and tackle other men and be an icon all while being so precious and softspoken.

So there we are. Fifty things for which I am thankful. I could go on for 50 more, I'm sure.
Here's to chanting the beauty of the good.

It's Been Awhile Since I've Fairytaled

It never ceases to amaze me how Life insists that I be wrong for thinking logically. Right now, the circumstances in my life are (vaguely, and I apologize) something like this:

I leave in 2 months for Los Angeles. TWO MONTHS.
Something new and exciting has just started here in Chicago.
In all likelihood, it will be impossible for said new and exciting thing to remain in my life in LA.

So there that is. And I am not stressed about it, and I don't think it's wrong, but I don't know what to do.

How is it that I am okay with this?

Now for dinner stories:

Aurelia arrived at City Hall just ten minutes early. City Hall in Hardenstall contained a ballroom which also doubled as a meeting hall, and, in this case, a banquet hall. There were about fifteen other people in the room when Aurelia walked in--city officials, servers, and two of the three dignitaries--and she remained mostly unnoticed. Prince Reginald, however, was just entering the room from a side door as discreetly as he could when he spotted Aurelia moving along the edge of the crowd. He ducked behind a small plant as she moved his direction. He did not want anyone to notice him so that he could speak to her.
As Aurelia walked the edge of the crowd, she passed close to the two Outsiders and wondered where the prince was. Then she caught a snippet of their conversation:
"I do hope that seamstress arrives soon."
"Do you think she is the one?"
"Yes. The Judge said she lives outside of town."
"That gives us ample opportunity to speak with her."
"Precisely. But there is something about her. She does not look like these people, and she certainly has a gift."
"You're right. She is the sorceress."
Aurelia hurried past them and stopped a moment. She stood directly in front of Prince Reginald, nearly in tears.
Prince Reginald had heard the conversation as well, being near enough and very good at reading lips. He reached out to Aurelia, who recoiled at his touch.
"It's just Prince Reginald."
She made a move to leave him.
"Please, I heard their conversation, and we are not here for you. At least, not to my knowledge."
"Please, Your Highness, tell me what's going on."
"Come outside with me, and I will fill you in."

The two left the way Prince Reginald entered the room, and both thought they went unnoticed.

Sealing My Fate

Today I turned in my application for my Semester(s) in LA. There is no turning back at this point--I'm ready to go. It's time, to lamely and nerdily quote Rob Dyrdek and Chris Boykin, to DO WORK.
Last night, I hung out with a large group of very good friends and watched The Office. It felt so good to be laughing and smiling. Not that I don't do that regularly, but it was different last night. There is a peace about the direction my life has taken in which I know who I am, I know my merits, and I can love everyone for theirs as well.
No fairy tale today. I have a screenplay to develop and a world to embrace.
Also, as a note, regardless of my political opinions and standings, which no one in my life can legitimately say they know but me, it was really cool to see so many people so happy about a political figure on Tuesday.