All Quiet with the Lava Lamps

Right now dimly overhead I hear a R&B/Soul song, only slightly faded by the hum of about six laptops.

That's right... I'm temping. In a hotel lobby. There's a woman in a navy blazer taking our picture. Beside me a man with a shaved head and a black button down shirt makes a joke (he's in improv here in Chicago - so is the girl on my right). Here in Temp Land, the elevators are space-age with Easter egg hued lava lamp like bottoms that shoot from the sky when landing here in the Lobby. Ornamental plants are lit up with artificial lighting and frosted skylights are cut out amongst the smooth veneer of the ceiling. I'm sitting in an amplified dentist's office, minus the old issues of Highlights and Parenting Magazine.

It feels wonderful really. Mostly just to have something to do other than plant vegetables* that may or may not thrive on the second floor back patio of Joel's apartment - surrounded by brick walls of nearby housing structures. Going on week two of no work is starting to take its toll on me. Without a direct promise of upcoming work or paychecks, I do that thing I always do: obsess and worry. Together, it's a recipe for fun... Add rainstorms and flat tires and you might as well be giving me a ride on a unicorn - or a hairy dragon... it's almost magical really.

Other than my tendencies towards the negative, Chicago has started to feel quite like home. The neighborhood I'm in love with is Logan Square. Here's a quick look at it:



I won't mention how frustrating it is to have an extreme lack of neighborhood coffee shops in comparison to Seattle or Minneapolis. I'll instead entertain you with talk of tulips, blossoming trees along Logan Boulevard (two blocks from the apartment) and the howling pitch of 10 school-age children playing in the belly of the sidewalks in between four apartment buildings each day. It's deafening. It includes a "who can yell loudest" contest apparently. And some plastic bikes they push each other around on. I'm hoping daily they stay away from my tomatoes. I'll cry. Huge tears. Promise.

The days have been filled with either sunshine or a thunderstorms, with trips around town to drop off recycling, pick up foodstuffs, or explore which place really has the best burrito? Our neighborhood is filled with cheap eats for meat and veggie lovers alike. Avocados come in slices or in guacamole form or somewhere in between depending on where you dine. For those with a higher taste in dining, there are more spendy establishments to frequent as well. Twice I've dined on the best thin crust pizza, with free RC Cola and $2.10 delivery, that lends grease to the bag it comes in. It's awesome. I'm still looking for the Thai food place of my dreams. A bit of a let down so far. I'll find it. Until then, I'll make lasagna:



Now all I need is a Local & Sustainably Minded, Bleeding Heart, French Bulldog and Bike themed job to pay me enough to support a one bedroom apartment and my very own dog and I'll be good to go.

Oh, and I put together a pink and red bike to replace the fallen Torpado. Pictures soon. But first - the Torpado: let us all have a moment of silence.


Wishing you small spurts of sanity, in whatever obsession you are playing a part in...


Love love love,

K.

*My drastic undertaking of growing organic veggies with only about 4 hours of sunlight a day includes this laundry list of good green guys:

Russian Striped Heirloom Tomatoes
Juliet Red Tomatoes
Italian Sweet Peppers
Red Leaf Lettuce
Spinach
Romaine Lettuce
Basil
Cilantro
Mint