Opportunity

Hello from an area of Chicago that goes by many names: North Uptown, South Andersonville, SOFO (South of Foster Avenue), West Argyle, etc. My block--a particularly long East-West one--is predominantly made up of Asians, young urban hipster parents, middle aged gay men, young lesbians, and a lot of artists and actors.

Moving here was a great opportunity to tell the folks back home, "told ya' so!", because they never understood why on earth I chose Chinese as a foreign language for my undergrad degree at NIU. Unfortunately, I forgot most of it, but living in this neighborhood would be a lot more fun if I still knew it!

My professer, Dong Shu Zong, called me 'Lan Qiu' ("lan-shee"). He said it meant "very blue". He was referring to the color of my eyes. He was fascinated by them in a tourist-y way.

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2013 has been a rough year and many ongoing changes. I feel sure that one day I will look back on the changes in some kind of positive light.

I have been re-reading old journals from 1988-92. In retrospect, it was an awful time, but I got through that. They were big changes but they happened slowly. The changes were all for the better, but I wasn't able to view it as such until afterwards. It's hard to not see now as a parallel of what's going on in my life.

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It is 1990-1. I was at the bars and dancing. It is still winter and I don't need to wear my coat when I leave because I danced hard. I always did. It was like a form of athleticism.

I stop at the 7-11 for a Big Gulp and head back to I-55 to the south suburbs. Home. I roll down the window to let the cold night air keep me alert and my eyes on the road.

This Charlatans UK song, "Opportunity" reminds me of the time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itOlgJBsSeY

I feel the spirt of my 25 year old self in my song, still. I wore fashionable Girbaud jeans and t-shirts. I loved 'loose fit' jeans, and thier sexy bagginess. Although no one really wore boxers at the time, let alone let our jeans be loose enough so they'd show!

I wish I had photos of myself from that time.

I wish I could have one more drive down I-55 listening to this song and just really loving myself, because I didn't love myself back then. I admit it. I dreamed about the open road, but I didn't live it. At least we can have the songs now, still, and live the open road in them, in memory. Maybe at the time, I was living an open road while listening to the song, while a dead world spun madly on outside the comfort of my car--the warm stereo LED lights, the heater turned on, my Big Gulp, being able to sing along or tapped my hand on the dashboard in time--a hand drum.

I don't think I live an extraordinary life in any exterior sense, by any means, but I am interested in my life as I look for small treasures through the way I inclined to perceive and explore it.