Author: sat

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reading lately

: people who actually MAINTAIN their blogs (unlike some of us– quelle notion).

my favorite thing lately is this low impact means of catching up with long distance friends via their delightfully unique/beautiful/hilarious blogging about kids and mates and other life stuff.

Jen’s BabyX2: my tiny friend not only managed to carry to term and deliver two beautiful babies but also blogs about their developmental and fashion progress in typically hilarious style.

Sarah’s Quince and Quire: Sarah, a poet and book artist friend, consistently renders and reflects on her life in gorgeous, precise, and lovely patterns and hues.

Wilson’s Mate Expectations: an engaging and wryly honest narrative about coming to terms with the order in which life dictates events must unfold.

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3 a.m.

I will find myself tossing, one side, then the other side, this position and then another, drifting off, dozing, only to jerk awake with a sharp intake of breath at some shapeless dreaming anxiety. who knows what parts it's due to, thirsty, having to pee, distracted by a change in the weather, blinds slapping against open windowframes– but eventually I will quit fighting it, wake up, rise, wander the mostly-dark apartment aimlessly, picking up small things here and there, a glass, a plate moved from table to sink, stand staring in a doorway, wrap myself in a throw blanket and sink down on the couch, lie gazing up at moving shadows of tree branches cast across the wall by streetlights, listen to the base thump of a passing car or some random walker's laughter in the night… I think, ultimately, it has to do with the acute sense of life passing, simply and inevitably, right this instant, then this one, and the next, each and every and all of them leafing away and sinking without trace into the well of time– and the overwhelming urge, desperation really, to do something, whatever, meaningful, resonant, actual, I don't know, just something that makes sense, that serves to tie those passing instants together, to weave them into a thread, wind that towline, and gradually drag myself back up from the vanished depths.

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this one’s for the friends

…voxish and otherwise– just a big hello, really– yodelling out confirmation that I’m still here, bumbling along in my navelly way. there are these times when I go to ground– which is unfortunate as the tissues that connect us are altogether too diaphanous as it is. I have a bad habit of being an unreliable correspondent and regret the foundering of friendships as a consequence.

what gives on this end these days? ah, spring– now summer, I suppose, though it’s been far too chilly in chicago to really back up that claim. things I ought to be posting about, perhaps am in some alternate universe: our recent  weekend visit to the far north woods, new (to me) amazing book club!, looking around at apartments, considering possibilities for change.

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calming

sometimes the clutter, mental or physical, simply gets too much to bear. then what? for me it’s important to identify what works and hold it in store for those moments when every nerve of self seems to be outlined and pulsing with red aggravation. this morning I’m managing it, just, with a cup of tea, a plushy blanket, and writing it out. other times a good stiff walk provides the necessary tonic. washing dishes by hand, folding laundry, and baking things all serve to settle and square me. it helps to have a certain spot, away from the rest of it all, ideally with a comfortable chair, good light, and quiet–a work table would be wonderful– a place in which to reconstruct my peace, piece by piece.

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the hood

I recently signed up for email updates from EveryBlock Chicago— but the more I get these little bombs in my inbox, the more I consider the salutary wisdom of unsubscribing (and, frankly, I find the concept of “simple” assault or battery perfectly flummoxing):

Hello,

Here’s all the news we at EveryBlock found around [my block] yesterday:

5 locations in the media

  • 5000 N. Sheridan Road Uptown Quick Stop Robbed, 11:10 PM

    The Uptown Quick Stop at 5000 N. Sheridan Road in Chicago was just robbed (at 11:10 p.m.) this evening (May 4). Police, on scanner, say suspect is a male black who fled on foot in an unknown direction.

    Published by Chicago News Bench on May 5, 2009.

  • Lawrence & Sheridan JJ Peppers Robbed At Gunpoint?

    “JJ Peppers (at Lawrence & Sheridan) was just robbed a gunpoint (Monday night). The robbery victim is losing consciousness so an ambulance is now required. The perps are three black males who fled to Lawrence and Winthrop.”

    Published by Uptown Update on May 5, 2009.

  • Lawrence and Winthrop JJ Peppers Robbed At Gunpoint?

    “JJ Peppers (at Lawrence & Sheridan) was just robbed a gunpoint (Monday night). The robbery victim is losing consciousness so an ambulance is now required. The perps are three black males who fled to Lawrence and Winthrop.”

    Published by Uptown Update on May 5, 2009.

  • Broadway and Clifton Supporting The Arts On Clifton

    Watch as this young man vandalizes a building at Broadway and Clifton.

    Published by Uptown Update on May 5, 2009.

  • Kenmore and Lawrence Hookers & Crack Pipes & Slurs, Oh My!

    …10 AM. I had just picked a newspaper and was walking past the corner of Kenmore and Lawrence when I was solicited by a woman I had never seen before. She was across…

    Published by Uptown Update on May 5, 2009.

12 crimes

8 business reviews

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FML

so it’s one of those mornings: overcast, dragging– I chew my way resignedly through a bowl of cereal because it is required, do the utmost minimum in the way of morning toilette and wardrobe, again simply because it is required– grit psychic teeth and fight myself every inch of the way to get to and give up my day to the place of work because I must.  on the way in I decide, as unhappiness compensation, to treat myself to delicious $4 coffee beverage from the place located conveniently right near the workplace, suffer through the gratingly insistent jollity of the barrista (barristo?), sigh contentedly as I settle back into the relative peace of my car seat and savor the first sweet sip– then have a single gulp more while driving the final yards, pull in, kill the engine, undo seat belt and open car door, lever myself up and out with coffee in hand– and watch in slow motion dismay as the cup splats open against the parking lot pavement and glugs its contents in a chocolately pool across the tarmac and under my car.

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