Lameness, unrelenting

The thing I was writing about before? The love and the sadness? That theme continued through the week, until reaching a drunken apex in Lincoln Square. Combine wine + women in their late 20s + social work and you end up with a sassy stew that I ate too much of and resulted in a couple hours of sleep on someone else's couch. The love and sadness train has run out of steam, I think. Right about when I was laying in the yard at 4:30 am eating Cheetos while someone mourned a friend's death. Figuring out what needs to be open and what needs to be closed is one of my adulthood tasks, I think. So for now, after all that tenderness: sarcasm and summer days.

Off to a BBQ today. I have already planned an outfit, which makes me think that the near total absence of Little Sister from my life has resulted in me becoming her a little bit. My primary goal in all my weekend socializing: find homes for the kitties. Before they lose their adorably bankable kitten-ness. I should also fix my bike and join my fellow Chicagoans at the lake shore, which I tend to avoid, as it looks like the Power Point presentation my soul would show itself in a seminar entitled "This is What You Should Be Doing Instead of What You are Doing." Biking, beach volleyballing, being just tan enough.

In fact, my favorite summer activity may be setting off fireworks, unwelcomed in these skittish times. While everyone else in my neighborhood gets in their shorts and takes the bus to Fullerton beach, I shall take a stroll instead, pretending that the shimmering heat off cars stuck in traffic is the waves of Lake Michigan, and that all the trash is little boats.