day 4 of misery and newly found hope
I think I'm listenting to somebody either puke, or have some sort of very aggressive sex. I'm sitting out on my porch/common area thing that is in the middle of all the apartments in my building. I had a very productive and interesting day. I have found comfort in talking long walks around my city chicago. Today I was reminded why I moved here this summer. chicago is a wonderful place. i applied to 20 or so jobs today because the company i work for right now, is bombing, so i need other sorces of income. in my search for a new job, i came across really cute and unique boutiques, thrift stores, cafes, and restaurants. I found a kind of thrift store that sells old designer clothing. I saw some chanel shoes there for 100 bucks. i wouldn't buy them of course, but the prospect of there being chanel shoes for 100 dollars is interesting enough to ponder. tomorrow i will walk over to belmont (real artsy farsty part of chicago, includes boys town *you could only guess what that means*, vintage clothing stores, funky restaurants, etc. belmont is a good 20 to 30 minute walk down one of my favorite streets " halsted". hopefully i will find more jobs to apply to and another adventure that will avoid my current despondant and sometimes suicidal nature. my grandmother is visiting next week, which is a great way to eat at really expensive restaurants downtown, and do the tourist thang, which is so much fun in chicago, espcially when there is an adult present to provide funding. Plus, my grandmother is a gay man trapped in a vibrantly older woman's body, so she will parade me around the bed bath and beyonds of chicago purchasing a romping new theme for my current crackhead chique bedroom.
During my voyage through the streets of chicago, I came across a few bumps in the road. I saw, greeted, and conversed with yet another lucky actor invited back to depaul's prestigious conservatory. and to think I was beginning to feel joy again. after walking in the opposite direction after our wonderful chat, i held my breath and squinted my eyes to trap my aggressive tears from making their way out from my heart to the sweaty surface of my cheek. I suceeded. after walking into and out of my 7th starbucks which was in a 40ft perimeter from the 6th starbucks that was also not hiring, I came upon a cute little restaurant with a desperate sign in its front window reading "help wanted". The help wanted sign was next to another sign in neon lights that read " BYOB", which in a Chicago restaurant entails that customers can " bring your own booze" , which also entails that some one 18 or older can serve. Unfortuantely my only conflict with the city beautiful is that she is a little psycho and over protective when it comes to the drinking law. So if you' re not 21 you can't serve....unless its BYOB. So ya, I was totally excited. Finally a restaurant where I could wait tables. And on top of that, this little restaurant was right behind my building. I walk in, barely able to find the table because of the restaurants lack of lighting. I approach two women who at first glance appear as non english speakers. But after I said hi, and I heard a lovely midwestern dialect, my excitement returned. I told the two women that I was under 21 in search of a job as a waitress/hostess. The one woman with horrible teeth began speaking some language that I've never heard, and I had to move in closer, and say "WHAT?" before realizing that she was speaking English. She told me that blah blah blah I'm not 21 blah blah blah can't wait, I was confused, so I said, well can I be a hostess, and they said, blah blah blah no we do both, and I was going to leave, but they handed me an application anyway, so I spent 13 minutes filling it out, and then the manager, who was very professinal and serious about all this, shaked my hand, took the application, sat down and started reviewing. she asked," how much do you know about Japanese cuisine", and for a moment I could have sworn I was on that Bravo show, "America's top Chef" which is the same exact premise as America's Next top Model, but in this one there are men, fat men, and ugly, fat women, or nutrition freaks, and food. So, I replied with a very confident answer to her very elitist question " i don't know much, but I'm willing to learn. There's a first for everything!" Oy vey. She basically referred me to some restaurant that I couldnt spell or pronounce if someone held a knife to my throat. So I left.
I walked home, exhausted from my grueling day of writing the same information about my riddiculous work experience 10 thousand times, and my attempt to gather some kind of inspiration to answer questions like "what is your favorite cartoon, who is your favorite mouse, why do you like coffee, and what do you like best about pizza". After my right hand began to turn from red to my natural skin tone of some sort of olivish yellow, i found myself infront of my building. I didn't want to go upstairs, I haven't enjoyed being in my apartment as of late, so I sat in the outside part of the cafe i live above. I was talking on the phone with my friend, and noticed I was sitting next to a very pretty and nice looking woman with the cutest little puppy. My friend was consoling me, and asked what she could to do to make me feel feel better. I told her, buy me a puppy. The woman looked up, smiled, and said, "get a dog, they help with loneliness", or something across those lines. I laughed, and said something stupid, and got off the phone. I was sitting, enjoying the wind cool my earlier sweaty cheeks and forehead, and I began to talk to the woman with the puppy. We appropriately, began talking about hard times. She told me that she has lived all over the world. She just moved back to chicago after living in the jungles of costa rica. She told me the many languages she has learned from living in so many countries. She began to tell me about her stay in Italy. she lived in a hotel for a month, and after learning italian finally found an apartment with two cicilians. She told me about the time she lived in california, how she was broke, living in her car, with a broken hand, without health insurance, and a grueling break up with a man she had dated for 8 years. She told me that when her parents would call and ask how she was, she would tell them that everything was fine. It was the most difficult and painful time of her life, she told me, but it was exciting. after hearing that, I told her my recent tragedy, and she told me, There is no such thing as failure. she didn't judge me, she didn't ask questions, she just smiled and nodded her head, and said, " you know, people always ask how i could do this stuff alone and i tell them that i do it because I can. i do it because i want to. i think you should do anything you want to do, and do it right away. you want to go to europe, get on a plane and go. You aren't living if you don't take risks." And with that, she got up, walked over to me and said, will you hold her, I'm going to use the bathroom. I took the little puppy, I held her in my arms, and I felt more comforted than i have been in months. I looked at her sweet little face, and my joy burst free and flowed through my body from my stomach, and exploded in my heart. The puppy kissed my cheek, and rested her beautiful little head on my forearm. I gently stroked her soft neck, looked up at the sky, and for the first time in chicago
i saw the stars.
During my voyage through the streets of chicago, I came across a few bumps in the road. I saw, greeted, and conversed with yet another lucky actor invited back to depaul's prestigious conservatory. and to think I was beginning to feel joy again. after walking in the opposite direction after our wonderful chat, i held my breath and squinted my eyes to trap my aggressive tears from making their way out from my heart to the sweaty surface of my cheek. I suceeded. after walking into and out of my 7th starbucks which was in a 40ft perimeter from the 6th starbucks that was also not hiring, I came upon a cute little restaurant with a desperate sign in its front window reading "help wanted". The help wanted sign was next to another sign in neon lights that read " BYOB", which in a Chicago restaurant entails that customers can " bring your own booze" , which also entails that some one 18 or older can serve. Unfortuantely my only conflict with the city beautiful is that she is a little psycho and over protective when it comes to the drinking law. So if you' re not 21 you can't serve....unless its BYOB. So ya, I was totally excited. Finally a restaurant where I could wait tables. And on top of that, this little restaurant was right behind my building. I walk in, barely able to find the table because of the restaurants lack of lighting. I approach two women who at first glance appear as non english speakers. But after I said hi, and I heard a lovely midwestern dialect, my excitement returned. I told the two women that I was under 21 in search of a job as a waitress/hostess. The one woman with horrible teeth began speaking some language that I've never heard, and I had to move in closer, and say "WHAT?" before realizing that she was speaking English. She told me that blah blah blah I'm not 21 blah blah blah can't wait, I was confused, so I said, well can I be a hostess, and they said, blah blah blah no we do both, and I was going to leave, but they handed me an application anyway, so I spent 13 minutes filling it out, and then the manager, who was very professinal and serious about all this, shaked my hand, took the application, sat down and started reviewing. she asked," how much do you know about Japanese cuisine", and for a moment I could have sworn I was on that Bravo show, "America's top Chef" which is the same exact premise as America's Next top Model, but in this one there are men, fat men, and ugly, fat women, or nutrition freaks, and food. So, I replied with a very confident answer to her very elitist question " i don't know much, but I'm willing to learn. There's a first for everything!" Oy vey. She basically referred me to some restaurant that I couldnt spell or pronounce if someone held a knife to my throat. So I left.
I walked home, exhausted from my grueling day of writing the same information about my riddiculous work experience 10 thousand times, and my attempt to gather some kind of inspiration to answer questions like "what is your favorite cartoon, who is your favorite mouse, why do you like coffee, and what do you like best about pizza". After my right hand began to turn from red to my natural skin tone of some sort of olivish yellow, i found myself infront of my building. I didn't want to go upstairs, I haven't enjoyed being in my apartment as of late, so I sat in the outside part of the cafe i live above. I was talking on the phone with my friend, and noticed I was sitting next to a very pretty and nice looking woman with the cutest little puppy. My friend was consoling me, and asked what she could to do to make me feel feel better. I told her, buy me a puppy. The woman looked up, smiled, and said, "get a dog, they help with loneliness", or something across those lines. I laughed, and said something stupid, and got off the phone. I was sitting, enjoying the wind cool my earlier sweaty cheeks and forehead, and I began to talk to the woman with the puppy. We appropriately, began talking about hard times. She told me that she has lived all over the world. She just moved back to chicago after living in the jungles of costa rica. She told me the many languages she has learned from living in so many countries. She began to tell me about her stay in Italy. she lived in a hotel for a month, and after learning italian finally found an apartment with two cicilians. She told me about the time she lived in california, how she was broke, living in her car, with a broken hand, without health insurance, and a grueling break up with a man she had dated for 8 years. She told me that when her parents would call and ask how she was, she would tell them that everything was fine. It was the most difficult and painful time of her life, she told me, but it was exciting. after hearing that, I told her my recent tragedy, and she told me, There is no such thing as failure. she didn't judge me, she didn't ask questions, she just smiled and nodded her head, and said, " you know, people always ask how i could do this stuff alone and i tell them that i do it because I can. i do it because i want to. i think you should do anything you want to do, and do it right away. you want to go to europe, get on a plane and go. You aren't living if you don't take risks." And with that, she got up, walked over to me and said, will you hold her, I'm going to use the bathroom. I took the little puppy, I held her in my arms, and I felt more comforted than i have been in months. I looked at her sweet little face, and my joy burst free and flowed through my body from my stomach, and exploded in my heart. The puppy kissed my cheek, and rested her beautiful little head on my forearm. I gently stroked her soft neck, looked up at the sky, and for the first time in chicago
i saw the stars.