Thursday, September 27, 2012

Victoria

Seen getting on the Brown Line to Kimball at about 8:15 a.m.

I can’t believe she told me I couldn’t work. That it’s not a proper lady’s place. Well guess what? Last time I checked, a princess gets to do what she wants. So what if her-royal-highness-my-mother orders me not to? What’s she going to do? Disown and disinherit me? Good. I didn’t ask to be a member of this ridiculous secret monarchy anyway.

They’re all in denial. Do they really think that, in a time of crisis, the American people are really just going to let them swoop in and take power? Yeah, right. Frightened people will do a lot of things they might not otherwise do; frightened Americans, however, would probably just cling desperately to the ideal of Democracy and pull out their shotguns. What will my parents do then? How will my always-perfect little sister Gloria handle her bloody fate? I don’t want any part of that.

All I want is to be a normal person. I want to live in a shitty apartment with cockroaches. I want to hook up with a complete stranger that I met at a bar. I want a job that will scar and blister my pale, immaculate hands

This story will probably not make any sense unless you read this story first. I invented America's secret monarchy in May of last year. Can't believe it was that long ago.

I think some of my fellow DWChitown members and I are going to The Whistler tonight for The Minus Times release party. Fancy drinks. Readings. Who could ask for more?  

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Alexander


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:40 a.m. 

Dear Jesus,

As I’m sure you can see, I’m working hard to better serve You. I want to be a good student; I want to develop the brains You were so gracious to give me to their fullest ability. But I’m having a problem: 

I enjoy my critical theory class. Having to look at the same text from Marxist, Feminist, Foucauldian, and other perspectives makes me feel like my mind is doing gymnastics. But now Dr. Anderson wants us to critique passages from the Bible. He’s a nice man with good intentions, but I don’t think he realizes how blasphemous his assignment is. Who am I to judge Your Word? 

I was afraid something like this would happen when I came to college. I was all set on theological studies at Wheaton—my parents were thrilled—until You guided me to Northwestern instead. Now I’m not sure what to do. Should I complete my assignment to keep up my grades? Or should I defend my faith and fail? 

Lord, I know that You have set this challenge before me for a reason. As always, I put myself in Your hands. I am Your dutiful servant. I pray that You guide me to the correct decision. 

Amen.

Oh, also, there’s this girl. Amanda. I know I shouldn’t pray for such trivial things, but if You could help her to look my way, I’d be eternally grateful. I mean, more than I already am. Thanks.

I dunno. This guy just looked very religious. I can't explain it.

Writing group went well last night. Tonight: dinner with Meg, and possibly Doctor Who with Gena? We shall see... 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Micah

Seen at the Fullerton Station waiting for the Red Line to 95th at about 8:40 a.m. 

While reading his own novel, Micah suddenly realized that he was rather pretentious. Not like Ira Glass pretentious—more like Jonathan Franzen pretentious. Maybe that’s why he’d gone through three different agents in the past four years, despite the success of his book. Maybe that’s why his wife left him, despite the success of his book. Maybe that’s why newspapers and websites remained reluctant to interview him, despite the success of his book.

Micah clapped his book shut. The price of success is high, he thought. His perceived callous snob persona probably sold more copies, he thought. People love a good character, even if they hate that character, he thought. 

One day Gena and I decided that Ira Glass has the perfect level of pretentiousness. Think about it.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Dolores


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:50 a.m.

Dolores flips through each page of the catalog, and with clumsy fingers she slowly types the numbers of each item she wants into a list on her phone. This is her basic shopping procedure. It’s the end of September, which means Christmas is right around the corner. Gifts must be purchased; she has so many people to buy for!

This set of Poirot DVDs would work nicely for her mother, who lives in Dolores’ basement and does nothing but watch TV all day. Vivian at the office would really like this cute avocado scoop—it looks like an avocado and everything! Her neighbor Jim would adore this stone garden gnome. It matches the walls of his house perfectly. And here’s a nice fountain pen for Larry the mailman. He’s always so courteous when he drops off her mail—mostly catalogs. Sometimes bills, obviously.

Dolores might try a different catalog for her doctor and her dentist. Then she just has to cover her dogs and she’ll be all set.

If I could use one word to describe my weekend, it would probably be "whiskey." Unless we're talking about last night, in which case it would be "copasetic." 

Friday, September 21, 2012

The Ballad of Marcus Belway

Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:30 a.m. 


Sharp! Snappy! Stylish! All words that can be used to describe Marcus Belway. This is a man that takes pride in his appearance—sleek pinstripe suit, suave vest, a fedora covering his smooth head.

Bold! Brazen! Boisterous! All words that can be used to describe Marcus Belway. This is a man that is difficult to ignore—big smile, booming voice, a laugh that bolts up from the depths of his belly.

Lonely. Longing. Loveless. All words that can be used to describe Marcus Belway. This is a man that hides his heartaches well—let-down hopes, lost loves, little slights and arguments that have cost him an awful lot in life. 

Huh. It seems I almost wrote a prose poem. Sort of? That's why I had to call it a ballad. Seemed to fit. Also: fun with alliteration.

Last night I went to see The Heavy with Gena. They killed it; however, the real highlight of the evening was an awesome folk-rock band called The Silent Comedy. They were AMAZING. Fun fact: all you have to do is write a song inspired by Machiavelli to win my nerdy, nerdy heart.

Tonight: Velvet Goldmine party at my apartment. Glam rock. Glitter. Sexy dudes making out. Aw yiss. Hope you have a good weekend!