Slightly Wet, Pasty White & Nutrient Free

Last Friday, on July 1st, I was searching through the used bike listings on craigslist.org.

Wait…

I should start from the very beginning.

As some of you already know, my 2001 Fuji Finest was stolen from outside the Century City Shopping Centre while I was working out at the Bally Total Fitness. When I left the centre, I found that my bike was gone. They took everything, including the shitty master lock and chain I used to lock up the bike. I am under the assumption that the shitty lock I used was the reason why my bike was stolen over any number of other bikes there at the time, all of which had a U-Lock.

I called the police to fill out a theft report. I gave them all the details, including the serial number. I had, for whatever reason, kept the receipt from when I purchased the bike at Uptown Bikes back in 2002. (On a side note, Uptown Bikes is the shit. The staff is knowledgeable, friendly and they won’t try to up-sell you. I highly recommend them). I finished my phone call to 311, with the cop telling me that it was certainly possible it would be recovered, but the chances were slim.

Having accepted that my bike was gone, I began the surprisingly short search for a new bike. I hit several different bike shops, thinking that maybe they had cheaper prices on some of last years models. They did of course, but they all started out at $500. Feeling rather distraught by the expensive aspect of purchasing a new bike, I choose to go the craigslist.org route and find a used one.

I did pretty well. I found a 1998 Bianchi Sam Remo (mine is New Amazon green vs blue) for a reasonable price. I exchanged a few emails, met up with the guy and had a new (used) bike within two weeks of the theft. So I was pretty happy about that part of the story…

which leads me back to….

…Last Friday, on July 1st, I was searching through the used bike listings on craigslist.org. I am not sure why I was searching them. I had already gottten a bike I was pretty happy with, but I have found myself searching though the listings on other occasions as well. Maybe I was dreaming a bit in thinking that I would find my bike. Turns out I really wasn’t dreaming at all.

I found a listing for a Fuji road bike that seemed like it could be mine, being sold by a guy in Elk Grove Village. It was the right year, model, color scheme and it did have an issue with the front derailleur, which was similar to the issue mine had. But the frame size, 51cm, was significantly smaller than mine, 61cm. However, the frame size of the bike in the picture seemed way too big to be a 51cm. I called up my friend, The Assman, being that he is a bit of bike expert and had a truck to haul the bike back from Elk Grove Village. He told me to send him the link, to see if the frame size was possibly close to mine and we would go from there. He determined that the frame size was not 51cm, and likely closer to a 61cm size.

I texted the seller about the bike. He still had it and offered to meet me in Chicago the next day around 1pm. I set up the meeting under the guise of buying it from him with the actual intention of confirming it was my stolen bike, and recovering it, if it was. I brought both the receipt and my copy of the police report to the meeting.

He showed up about an hour late. When he got there, he took the bike out of the back of a white van. At first glance I could see the grip tape was the same as mine. I had changed out the original tape pretty recently. This had to be my bike. I mean, what were the odds of two of the same models, likely being the same size, having the same the derailleur issue, and the same exact grip tape? I then asked a few bullshit questions while attempting to compare the serial numbers. I spent the bus trip over to the location memorizing the serial number so I could quickly/covertly match it. The number was the same, confirming what I already knew. I pulled out the receipt and the police report, then told him it was my bike, which had been stolen only a few months earlier.

He appeared rather amazed that this was the case. He explained that the bike belonged to a friend of his who didn’t want it anymore, so he asked him to sell it. I told him that I didn’t think he was the thief, that he probably just unknowingly bought a stolen bike. He asked, “what do we do now?” I told him he could just give me the bike or we could call the cops to have them straighten everything out. Earlier that morning, I had called 311 to ask the cops what I should do in this case. They said to just call 911 and the cops would come over and straighten everything out.

We called the cops, they came out and I explained the story to them. The cop compared the serial number on the bike to the number on the receipt. The cop said, “it’s your bike, so you get to take it” and that he would fill out a supplemental report declaring it was recovered. The cop explained that without the receipt, or at least some kind of proof of the serial number, I would have been screwed. The cop also took down the seller’s information and had the seller explain how he got the bike.

The guy selling the bike was actually really cool about it. I told him I was sorry to have brought him out here under false pretenses, but that I did so because I had no idea if he was the thief or just some unlucky guy who bought a stolen bike. He told me he was glad I got my bike back and that there were no hard feelings.

So I got my bike back by shear luck and possibly by being too hopeful. It was a 1 in a 1,000,000 shot, but it paid off. Moral of the story, always keep your receipts.

In following a friend’s blog I wanted to list the ways I prefer not to die (in no particular order):

1. drowning

2. burned alive

3. bleeding to death

4. beaten to death

5. strangled/suffocated

6. freezing to death

Ways I wouldn’t mind dying:

1. riddled with bullets

2. exploded

3. imploded

4. crushed instantly (though that may be the same as imploded)

5. morphine overdose

6. heart attack (preferably during sex)

That’s all I can think of for now, feel free to add more.

Edit: Recent additions (via my FB friend Lazarus Long):

Eaten by ants.
Impaled on a stake (Vlad the impaler style).
Crucified.
…Boiling oil.

“I fear explanations explanatory of things explained.”

- Abraham Lincoln

“The fun part is counting my money in the bubble bath”

- Emerson Cod. Pushing Daisies

“This is the greatest case of false advertising I’ve seen since I sued the movie The Never Ending Story.”

- Lionel Hutz. The Simpsons

“Jesus, guys, doesn’t it bug you? Like thousand of people wanna be Paris Hilton and nobody wants to be Spiderman.”

- Dave Lizewsk. Kick-Ass

So Friday came and went without incident. Well not really. It was more like a lot of swooning and gushing on her part. I have to say that really made me happy.

I meet her at the Chicago stop of the Red Line with a Lilly in hand. She smiles and kisses me. It was nice, the kissing but really the whole event was kind of poetic. We walk back to my office, where we drop off her bag and I get the gift I have for her. We sit for a while and talk. I rub her feet as she has on rather uncomfortable shoes to match the frilly skirt she is wearing.

I have to say that she looks beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than she had ever looked. I guess maybe I am just really happy that she wants to see me, much less kiss me. We talk about us, and the fact that we both want to work this out. Which makes me feel much better, even happy?

We walk to the restaurant, “The Signature Room” and I ask her, “Have you ever been here before?” She says “no.” This was nice, as I prefer that it be someplace that she had never been before. It’s just nice to have an untouched environment, something that holds no memory, good or bad, a level playing field if you will.

We exit the elevator on the 95^th floor, the location of the restaurant, and sit at a window table. She loves it and is very impressed with my choice. I am so glad about this as I want to impress her. I want her to see that she meant a lot to me and that the expense is worth it; so worth it in fact that I would have paid almost anything to make it a beautiful time.

We share an appetizer of Prosciutto wrapped mozzarella and we both drink red wine. She has a Cabernet and I have a Pinot. I let her order my wine, as I have no idea what a good wine is by description, I just know what tastes good to me. She orders the Filet Minion, I have the NY strip Steak and we share a side of White Cheddar Potatoes. The dinner is nice, with the food being pretty good. I didn’t take her here for the food; it was the ambiance and the view, which is incredible. She keeps commenting on the Sears Tower missing as the clouds bury it. I think this is very cute.

So we sit and drink as I ask her, “Do you want to open your gift right away or after dinner?”

“Right away”, she says as her head bobs up and down a bit with anticipation.

I hand her the bag with a shoebox, badly wrapped in newspaper. She takes it out with an air of happiness. She has been impressed so far and I know this will impress her even more. She begins to unwrap the newspaper, sparing no expense in getting it off. She attempts to open the box but it is kind of a tight squeeze. She finally gets it open to reveal another smaller box, excellently wrapped in wrapping paper with a Warhol print of Jackie Kennedy. I tried to find corpses wrapping paper as corpses are one of her favorite things, but they didn’t have any at the store. I know she likes Jackie Kennedy and so I figure that Jackie being dead and all is pretty close.

I smile and say, “April fools”, as it is April fool’s day and all. My joke goes over well, the double boxing that is. She carefully begins unwrapping the smaller box to reveal yellow paper concealing the gift. She unwraps the paper to revel a sterling silver antique cigarette case.

She gushes and almost starts to tear up. She carefully takes the case out of the box and looks at it as if it is the single greatest thing she had ever seen. Her face lights up as she tells me, “I love it”. The thing is: I knew that she would love it.

Many weeks ago, the last good night we had before we broke up, we spent the night together and got up to have breakfast in the morning. We wondered around and went to many of the antique stores that occupy the little strip of Lakeview that I live in. Seriously, there are three of them on the same block and another two vintage stores just down the street. We went to a nicer looking one and she saw the case in a cabinet. She liked it so much that she asked the man to remove it just to take a look at it. It was highly priced, but I could see that she really loved it. She collects them and uses them as wallets. So I figured that I should get it for her, for her birthday. She told me at the time that it was weeks away and that if it was supposed to be hers I could go back in a few weeks and get it. I went back the next day.

She is so happy with it, that when I get back from having a smoke at the bar, she has taken it out of the box and is looking at it with glee. When I get back from the bathroom, she has taken it out of the box and is looking at it with glee, again. I think this is so incredibly cute. I wanted to impress her and I did. I do well this night, so well that she wants to come home with me. When we broke up, she had refused to come over as it was hard for her to be there and not want to be physical. She needed time to sort out how she felt about everything and I was not about to push her. I guess that my actions and behavior gave her the impression that I want to change and be a better person; that I realize how important she is to me and that I have put this importance into practice and made this event, her birthday, important.

All we do is make out; just really really hot kissing on the couch and that is enough for me for at the moment. I rub her back and hold her and she says, “It hasn’t been this hot in a long time”. I agree. It hadn’t been that passionate for a while. I say, “Maybe we should just break up every six months to realize what we mean to each other?” She slaps me in the face and says, “Take it back”. I apologize and take it back. The thing is that if I had been the old me, or less like what I want to be that this would have really pissed me off. It doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Perhaps she is rash in doing this, but I’m not going to take it personally or overreact to it.

The passion is incredible, so very incredible. At open point she whispers in my ear, “Tell me you love me”. I tell her, “I love you” and I want to cry. I want to cry because this statement makes me so happy that it is like breakthrough crying. I hold her for a long time, as we both just feel really good about the evening, this new chapter and our future together.

“It’s a hard life spreading the truth; never made Ghandi rich, never made Mother Teresa rich, L. Ron Hubbard… well actually he did pretty good for himself.”

- Harlan Griffith. Eight Legged Freaks

“You don’t sleep naked. You think it makes a rapist’s job easier”

- Steph. TiMER

“Man, you go through life, you try to be nice to people, you struggle to resist the urge to punch ‘em in the face, and for what?”

- Moe Szyslak. The Simpsons

“There’s 6 billion people on the planet. What were the odds it would be your day?”

- The Far Side (likely paraphrased rather than quoted)

“Mister anywhere you point this thing, it gotta beat the hell out of the sting, of going to bed with every dream, that dies here every morning”

- Tom Waits. Burma-shave

I turn 36 tomorrow and I am trying to decide if this is a good thing. I don’t feel old… scratch that, I injured my back lifting weights on Saturday and I kind of feel like an old man at the moment. I think that’s mostly because I have an Icy Hot patch on my back.

I can’t say my life has been all bad, in fact it’s been pretty entertaining most of the time. There have been moments of pure genius, moments of utter stupidity and many levels in between.

In my current situation, I am not sure how to go about having what I want. Maybe that’s because I am not really sure what I want. You see, several months back my life changed dramatically and has been a series of, pretty much, weird events since then. Well they have mostly been weird to me and in some strange way offer a bit of peace.

I can’t say for sure If I like it or not, but I can say that it’s leading me to question a lot more of my ways of thinking. I guess maybe we come to know things or they become habit and then we have to adopt new habits as life changes. Still, I think the new habits are better than the old ones and it can’t be all bad if it’s keeping me out of trouble.

In the long run I have no doubt that all this will work out as it is supposed too, but I do wonder about the logistics of that. But all this future stuff kind of scares me as maybe it should. I wonder how else I am supposed to feel about it. It is the unknown, which is usually scary, but can be good. It’s also quite exciting and is keeping me on my toes.

So to compensate, I made a spread sheet of college credits that are required to get my degree. It kind of also produced the opposite result as it’s daunting as well, but at least I can kind of pick my classes and see where I will be as it goes.

As of right now I have 9 credits and will have 12 at the end of the summer semester. Now if I go full time in fall I will get 12 more, and if I continue with full time for the next semester after that I will have 12 more, meaning I will have 36 which is more than half way to my AA or AS.

I guess that is going along smoothly and I should be happy about it moving along as such. I guess what really scares me is what do I do when I am done? I understand that I will get a job, or rather a career, and then in theory have higher pay and job satisfaction, but who knows how that will all really shake out in the end.

Still I can’t complain, and won’t. What I will do is write about this, go to therapy, do my laundry, possibly drink some beer and when my back is better, get back into the gym so I can get that “me” time back and clear out my head some more.

“Wanna know what’s a crime? Whoever defaced that work of art by painting it that color… ought to have his ass removed.”

- David Ackerman. The Rookie

“Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else, and it hasn’t, it’s that girls should stick to girls sports, such as hot oil wrestling and foxy boxing and such and such.”

- Homer Simpson. The Simpsons

“Peachy, Kate. The world’s my oyster, except for the fact that I just rammed a wooden stake in my brother’s heart because he turned into a vampire, even though I don’t believe in vampires. Aside from that unfortunate business, everything’s hunky-dory.”

Seth Gecko. From Dusk Till Dawn

“Do you mind if I name my first child after you? “Dipshit Knight” has a nice ring to it.”

- Chris Knight. Real Genius

“You think you’re goin’ to heaven because you’re honest, but you’re not. You’re goin’ to the same hell as the crooked cops you can’t stand.”

- Laurie Roberts. American Gangster

It’s been a weird week, for sure.

On Wednesday I started my Cultural Anthropology class. As a way to introduce us to the practical aspects of the field, the professor showed us slides and a short film of her 1 & 1/2 year research project in the Central African Republic working with Pygmy tribes. It was actually quite interesting and I found myself tapping my foot and bobbing my head to the beats when they showed them dancing. Apparently Pygmies really like to dance and do so often, for several hours at a time. They also like to sing using Polyphony. The professor drew parallels to Herbie Hancock’s Watermelon Man from the album Head Hunters to explain the concept. Being a musician, a huge fan of jazz, Herbie Hancock and this very tune I found that I got her point quite easily.

I also found myself admiring her for work in Africa and almost considered the idea of joining the Peace Corps when I finished college. Now no one here really knows me all that well, (and by that I mean most of the followers of my blog) but that idea is just kind insane seeing as I am a city boy and have a rather large aversion to not having modern western technology. Still it was kind of an inspiring thought to go somewhere I had never been, help people and view the world from another person’s eyes. I figure I’ll wait and see what happens when I finish school. If the idea hasn’t worn off, then…

I left class and wandered around Uptown for a while. I took some pictures of my old apartment building, saw a transvestite (not the cute Las Vegas kind) and stopped for a beer at a place I used to frequent when lived there. I got back on the train and had to make my way through the barrage of drunken Hawks fans, rightly so, celebrating the victory 49 years in the making. But they were still kind of annoying.

I got home, slept for a few hours and then woke up at 2am for some god awful reason. So not being able to sleep I rolled up/smoked a few cigarettes, watched some TV and checked my email. I got a message, via Facebook, from someone I hadn’t talked to in nearly 2 decades. On a side note, when I find myself saying things like “in nearly 2 decades” I realize just how young I am not anymore and it’s kind of humbling.

We used to be involved and I was a horrible person to her. I did some bad things I am quite sorry for and still struggle with to this day. I assumed I would never talk to her again as she has every right to hate me and not want to ever talk to me. So it was surprising that I got this message. It’s was surprising even more so coming at this time in my life. It’s kind of leading me to believe that god or some mysterious force is trying to kill me, but now I am just being overly dramatic.

It’s weird to have to examine parts of your life from a long time ago that you just hadn’t thought about in a while because they were from so long ago. It’s weirder still in how we may try to relate them to our lives now, whether they should or should not be. Being the overly analytical person I am, I wonder if I will think about this for weeks to come.

What I guess I don’t get about this is what it all means? Now I feel like John Cusack in High Fidelity. OK maybe it means nothing and I am trying to ascribe meaning to it because I think it has to have a meaning. Who really knows?

Luckily for me, I have a busy weekend coming up and won’t really have the down time to think about this. Well I will think about this, but I will be able to distract myself with various things that will require my attention and focus. So I guess I’ll try and put this off till Monday or maybe just having wrote about it, I won’t think about this for weeks to come.

“Oh shit”

“Hey watch this”

“Hold my beer and watch this”

“Oohh, I’ve wasted my life… “

“Here we go”

“OK. I’m gonna try one more time”

“Wait a minute”

“You Got me”

“One last drink, please”

“Now why did I do that?”

Recent additions, via Facebook friends

“Is this thing loaded?”

“I know what I’m doing”

“What’s this wire for?”

“It DOES make you look fat.”

“What would happen if…”

“Holy shit!”

“You know, in a situation like this, there’s a high potentiality for the common motherfucker to bitch out.”

- Maurice “Snoopy” Miller. Out of Sight

“Don’t ask me why I can’t leave without my wife and I won’t ask you why you can.”

- David Dutton. The Crazies

“Look, pal, if I wanted to sit and listen to someone jam around about their lifes, I’d be at my AA meeting now.”

- Janitor. Scrubs

“I killed a cow with a bazooka… I’m not proud of that last one.”

- Nick. Yes Man

“If he’s so smart, how come he’s dead?

 - Homer Simpson. The Simpsons

I had a pretty good week. Some ups and downs and a few in betweens, but overall it was more interesting than not. I think maybe things are looking up in my world. Of course I am now hesitant to think that because I just said that. As if I could actually curse myself by thinking so.

I met up with some friends for beers and or coffee, biked several miles, worked out like a fiend and tried my damndest to just chill. I was able to be flexible/amiable and I think maybe it’s given me some positive karma.

I have a distinct memory of being overly calm which I attribute to a long bike ride and the fulfilling of a prophecy that I assumed would come true. I will admit that I have had it for a while and did at points question it’s validity or rather if it was more so a delusion. It seems now that it was not.

It’s only really begun, but it seems to be moving along nicely. There in lies the part where I must let it flow naturally and be OK with the outcome of all of it. I perceive the outcome to be what it is, regardless of if it is the outcome I want it to be.

I have often wondered how much of part we really play in our paths through life. Can we, do we “make shit happen” or is it more like we are pushed in a direction no matter how hard we try to escape it. Is it a matter of fate meeting free will, or just one or the other.

I don’t really know and I think maybe I will stop wondering, if just for today.

“Don’t feed the pigeons”

- Bartender at Matchbox, in reference to the homeless asking for cigarettes, money, etc.

“My priest says shame is god telling you what you did was wrong.”

- Patrick Kenzie. Gone Baby Gone

“As long as there’s an image of me rolling around, rolling around up there… I don’t care.” 

- Joe Cordova

“Don’t just beat the summer heat; break out some Taekwondo on it”

- Burger King ad

“There is no situation that you could not escape from. There is no situation that you could not turn to your advantage.”

- Mike Terry. Redbelt