nostalgia, sort of
Today's trip to the zoo did not actually pan out so well. Apparently everyone else in Chicago, lured by the first real springish weekend this year, had the same idea, which meant Lincoln Park was a madhouse, no parking in the paylot or the surrounding neighborhood. We drove around for about a half an hour, even BY the zoo entrance at least twice, and gave up to head home. The only other weekend I've seen it like that was a father's day a couple of years ago.
It was nice to drive around (and around, and around) my old hood. I realized with a start that it's almost ten years to the date when I first found my old apartment there, having just secured my acceptance from Depaul. It was right after my birthday and, wanting to get settled in before fall, I needed a place to live rather speedily. (although not quite as speedy as the two week job change upheaval when I moved into this place.) I only looked in that one building. I looked at two studios actually, one that was even smaller, if that's possible, than the one I ended up taking. As you can seebelow, tiny does not even begin to describe it. I think it was under 300sq. ft. and now, according to the sign on the building is even now only about a hundred dollars less than what I pay now for something three times that size in a much less posh neighborhood. Plus, the floor boards are not, as they were in a couple places there, falling through to the subflooring. Still most of the time I loved my little existence there. I was much poorer, but I had a lot of free time to write and read that I don't have as much as now. Time to slack, to wander the neighborrhood, take long walks at night, hang out, drink endless cups of coffee in places that have now been replaced by evil Starbucks. Looking back, not a bad couple of years.
It was nice to drive around (and around, and around) my old hood. I realized with a start that it's almost ten years to the date when I first found my old apartment there, having just secured my acceptance from Depaul. It was right after my birthday and, wanting to get settled in before fall, I needed a place to live rather speedily. (although not quite as speedy as the two week job change upheaval when I moved into this place.) I only looked in that one building. I looked at two studios actually, one that was even smaller, if that's possible, than the one I ended up taking. As you can seebelow, tiny does not even begin to describe it. I think it was under 300sq. ft. and now, according to the sign on the building is even now only about a hundred dollars less than what I pay now for something three times that size in a much less posh neighborhood. Plus, the floor boards are not, as they were in a couple places there, falling through to the subflooring. Still most of the time I loved my little existence there. I was much poorer, but I had a lot of free time to write and read that I don't have as much as now. Time to slack, to wander the neighborrhood, take long walks at night, hang out, drink endless cups of coffee in places that have now been replaced by evil Starbucks. Looking back, not a bad couple of years.
Comments