seven years

September 1st was my 7th anniversary of living in Chicago.

The day I moved here -- September 1st 1998 -- was the longest day of my life.

Observe:

1. I woke up in Milwaukee around 9 a.m. I was living in a college house with 6 friends. All of my shit was boxed up and in the side living room.

2. I drove from Milwaukee to Racine to pick up my uncle's van. he kept me at his place to bullshit for at least 20 minutes (10:30 a.m.).

3. I got on the road and drove 15 miles to my grandmother's place to pick up two chairs, and then to my parent's place in Janesville (65 miles) to drop them off (noon).

4. I ate something and then drove back to milwaukee (80 miles) to pack the van. I said goodbye to milwaukee and college (3:00 p.m.).

5. I drove into Racine to look for the court house to try to get out of a speeding ticket. I couldn't find it, so I said fuck it. I think I finally paid that ticket off in 2001 or 2002 (4:00 p.m.).

6. I drove into Chicago rush hour traffic and crawled through the I-90 Kennedy Expressway (6:30 p.m.).

7. I finally got off of the Kennedy and drove through heavy traffic to my new residence at the intersection of Clark/Roscoe. I ran into a night Cubs game. I double parked the van and turned on the hazzards. Two of my roommates ran downstairs and helped me unload all the shit. I dumped it all into my new bedroom, drove around looking for parking for 20 mins., found parking and then went back to the apartment and and chilled for a bit (9:00 p.m.).

8. After the night game let out (10:00 p.m.), I got into the van and drove back to Racine (100 miles) to drop off the van (12:00 a.m.) and retrieve my car.

9. I then drove back to Janesville (75 miles), and crashed on my high school bed (2:00 a.m.).

10. The next day -- September 1st 1998 -- my parents and sister drove me to Chicago and dropped me off. I was a 24 year old fresh college graduate with no job lined up and $4,000 in savings, living three blocks from wrigley field with two friends from college and another guy who turned out to be a total dick, who went to DePaul. My dad told me that he wished he was me.

--

September 1st 2003 -- five years to the day -- was a bad day. Shannon expressed full-on paranoid breakdown, and killed it. I remember her meeting me at my apartment to pick up her shit... most noteably her Technics 1200 turntable. I drove her back to her place and was at a total loss because of all of it was sudden, and I wasn't ready for it to be over.

I dropped her off and went home. The french windows in my apartment were open, whipping stronger Fall winds through the front room. I noticed the crater of open space where the turntable had been, and the sinking feeling that I was ditched and going to be alone for awhile creeped in.

I recalled that THAT day was five years to the day that I'd moved to Chicago. It made me feel worse. I was defeated and questioned WHAT did it all mean.

--

September 1st 2005 was a good day (for me anyways,.. kind of a shitty day for anyone on the Gulf coast). At the end of a long day I disqguised my identity by wearing a form-fitted ball cap and black sunglasses, took the L home.

I stood above a hot blonde who was wearing a green t-shirt that said something about pirates and was playing a video game on a T-Mobile. she wore excellent artistic jewelry and I liked her bag. She looked up once and it was her -- Jen from Lollapalooza 2005 and Madison 1993 -- she was beautiful. At one stop, the person sitting next to her got up, and I took the vacant seat.

I sat there for a couple of minutes thinking about how bizarre this all was. I recalled everything that I'd thought of this particular stranger over the past 12 years, and the cosmic occurance of actually running into her and speaking to her this last summer. I questioned if I should say anything, but I recalled two things:

1. The last time I spoke to her I could tell that she was kind of unsure what to think of the whole deal.

2. I've recently met a girl that I've gelled with -- also named Jen -- and I was headed to her place to go out.

I decided to not say anything, and rather enjoy the creepy reality that I was aware of who this person is, and she doesn't know me at all. I got to sneak some looks... she's super hot, and appears to be my type. Just not in the cards this trip around.

Meeting the new Jen kind of killed the opportunity to meet the cosmic Jen. I'll take that to mean that I like the new Jen.