Yada Yada Yada
I found my new favorite beer, and let me tell you it has nothing to do with taste (despite winning several beer competitions in the UK and US) and everything to do with packaging. Let me introduce you to Kiuchi Brewing Company's Hitachino Nest White Ale. It is not only adorable but it's also quite palatable. The bottlecap is even adorned with a little owl. Now I have to try the other varieties, and keep all the bottles and caps. Hordie, hordie.
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I rode my bike along the lakefront this evening, and it was the first time I went all the way downtown. It was a completely different experience from driving my car into downtown Chicago via lakeshore drive, which used to be one of my favorite parts of Chicago. The path alongside the drive is about 50 feet wide and slants down to the water's edge. It felt fatal and beautiful to be in between two very powerful bodies, downtown Chicago a few yards to my right and Lake Michigan a few yards to my left. It probably would have been an entirely pleasurable experience had it not been for all the damn rollerbladers. They can really kill a mood. One girl was 'blading by the edge in figure skater fashion, with raveresque arm motions. I can only guess that she does that every evening as a way of de-stressing and finding another piece of herself. Very profound. She sparked the memory of "bike trick dude" from UW-Milwaukee. Does anybody else remember this guy? He used to bring his bike into the courtyard surrounding the fountain and do really lame tricks, like stand with both legs on one peg. He circled the fountain again and again performing for everyone in the courtyard without ever making eye contact... like he didn't notice people were there.
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As I got out of the bath this morning the phone rang, and I scrambled to get it, thinking it might be something tragic. The last few phone calls have been Michael post-accident. It was only my landlord... she told me she saw two kitties running around in the alley. I've had my eye on these little guys, so I quickly dressed and ran out the back with a towel, a bowl of food and capture box (actually a cooler, the only thing I have since the last kitty pick-up left me pet-taxi-less). I searched up and down the alley, around the block, and back down the alley until I came across a different cat sitting in a trash heap. She was gorgeous, calico and as far as I could see clean. I reached down to place the food a few feet from her and she took off, clueing me into her feral-state. I looked back at the yard and noticed another cat, and another, and another, and another, and another. I looked up to see a dishelved yard and an abandoned house. It's all coming together now: a feral community down the street, a never ending supply of kitties and an approaching winter. I have a lot of work to do.
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peace. out.
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I rode my bike along the lakefront this evening, and it was the first time I went all the way downtown. It was a completely different experience from driving my car into downtown Chicago via lakeshore drive, which used to be one of my favorite parts of Chicago. The path alongside the drive is about 50 feet wide and slants down to the water's edge. It felt fatal and beautiful to be in between two very powerful bodies, downtown Chicago a few yards to my right and Lake Michigan a few yards to my left. It probably would have been an entirely pleasurable experience had it not been for all the damn rollerbladers. They can really kill a mood. One girl was 'blading by the edge in figure skater fashion, with raveresque arm motions. I can only guess that she does that every evening as a way of de-stressing and finding another piece of herself. Very profound. She sparked the memory of "bike trick dude" from UW-Milwaukee. Does anybody else remember this guy? He used to bring his bike into the courtyard surrounding the fountain and do really lame tricks, like stand with both legs on one peg. He circled the fountain again and again performing for everyone in the courtyard without ever making eye contact... like he didn't notice people were there.
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As I got out of the bath this morning the phone rang, and I scrambled to get it, thinking it might be something tragic. The last few phone calls have been Michael post-accident. It was only my landlord... she told me she saw two kitties running around in the alley. I've had my eye on these little guys, so I quickly dressed and ran out the back with a towel, a bowl of food and capture box (actually a cooler, the only thing I have since the last kitty pick-up left me pet-taxi-less). I searched up and down the alley, around the block, and back down the alley until I came across a different cat sitting in a trash heap. She was gorgeous, calico and as far as I could see clean. I reached down to place the food a few feet from her and she took off, clueing me into her feral-state. I looked back at the yard and noticed another cat, and another, and another, and another, and another. I looked up to see a dishelved yard and an abandoned house. It's all coming together now: a feral community down the street, a never ending supply of kitties and an approaching winter. I have a lot of work to do.
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peace. out.