From a whiskey stained notebook...

Sometimes, sinking into sorrow is like sinking into a worn, memory-ridden pillow after a weary day. Lowering yourself deeper into an innately comforting mindset that permits finishing the remnants of cabernet sauvignon from the bottle during window-shaking thunderstorms while putting on that album to more vividly resurrect previous grievances.

Cathartic or self-disparaging, it doesn't matter. Instead, fully consuming oneself with melancholia as opposed to avoiding immediate moods, emotions, and circumstances produces a sense of understanding. Understanding me, in particular, and who I've always been--emotionally engrossed with depression tendencies--but truly devoted to the affective and aesthetic as a means to my own being.

In short, I'm trying to embody how 'on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur, l'essential est invisible pour les yeux.'

"One only sees with the heart, the essential is invisible to the eyes." -St. Exupery, Le Petit Prince

Chicago's First Thunderstorm of the Spring

I ventured out this afternoon in the first thunderstorm of the year. It's still raining but the thunder's gone for now. In the middle of a down pour I wanted to take a walk-I love rain walks. Got some wine for the week and some soaked shoes as well. Since then I've finished some physics homework and read E.T.A. Hoffmann's "The Sandman" short story for my philosophy course this spring called "The Uncanny."

Long time coming, I've decided to finally publicize my acceptance into three philosophy master's program-University of Chicago, Oregon, and Loyola. Tomorrow I'm going to send in my acceptance to the University of Chicago and inform the other two of my decision. Scared out of my mind but settled would describe my feelings about next year. I have no idea how to pay for this program even though it's only a year; but, if I do go on to get my Ph.D the U of C will be the best program to have graduated from. Overall, I know I want to get my masters and as of right now that's what I'm going to do.

The past two weeks were strange and lovely. Christine and I baked a number of goodies to sell at Protest's 5th Anniversary's Festival last weekend. On top of making people smile with cookies and pie, I realized how much I love the Protest series. Somewhere, in a random journal I wrote about this during a show there, in early fall. In essence, I felt like the music, the series, the people were a community that I was somehow invited into, though not in an exclusive way. Without possessing any competent way of explaining the music other than it's avant-garde, improv jazz, I can only suffice to say it's a home for me. Other than the past two weeks when I've been to three Protest shows, I haven't been for quite some time. Christine's been very busy working shows at the Ottoman and I have never gone to Heaven Gallery by myself, so it had been a while. But just like this past fall, I remembered how much I love this aspect of Chicago. It's a mix of the friends that I've made and the comfort I've found there. Something struck me these past two weeks after I'd been to multiple jazz/jazz-type shows-mostly that I love very dearly the people I've met through Protest and Heaven Gallery and I'm very grateful.

I'm turning mushy again. I guess it was also something to do with how in the past two weeks I've been let down by some people I'd been spending time with, but right at the apex of my disappointment I realized how wonderful some of these jazz guys are. Overall, I know I don't want to leave Chicago.

Time for some Hemingway and one more glass of wine.

Migraines and Tonsillitis and Women's Curling

Oy vey. Tuesday I woke up around 4am with a migraine that decided to not go away til long after my logic exam period passed. Later on that day I managed to make it to my Agamben class only to notice an unfortunate tickle/swell in my throat. eeukkkk. Wednesday the tickle turned to a nasty little Foosball sized swell and during my night class I came down with the chills. Then today I mustered up enough energy to make it to my first two classes before driving back to Carol Stream to see a doctor at the Convenient Care.

Strep throat came back negative. Mono came back negative, although it's actually too soon since I've felt ill to accurately test for mono. My white blood count came back higher than it should be so the quick analysis-tonsillitis. Which let me tell you, I've now mastered how to spell that little bugger. So lucky me, I get to take antibiotics and Tylenol with codeine for the next five days.

Compared to yesterday and this morning, I feel great. I've been able to eat soft foods so we had mutter paneer for dinner-we being the parents. Even though I could have found someplace to go in the city I'm glad I came back home and got to relax for a bit with my parents. Got to watch some curling on the tube with my dad and mom. Finally, I understand why my dad is really getting into the sport, it's oddly addictive to watch. Overall, I'm looking at a diet of yogurt and ice cream for the next few days because eating even a soft meal is exhausting right now. The energy required to swallow when swallowing is a full body ordeal is extensive.

With the being said, I'm off to bed. A little bedtime story from dear old Agamben will do the trick-in actuality he's quite an engaging writer. I'm also abnormally interested in thinking through witnessing and giving testimony to what cannot be said-namely the experience of Auschwitz-because it is those who can speak of the gas chambers that, at the same time, cannot.

Ragout and Oatmeal Wheat Bread and Contemplation

I made a portabella, tomato, leek, and cannelini bean ragout and then a oatmeal wheat (quick) bread today. I was also super productive in not doing much homework, yet. The stew was great, I think I added too much creme fraiche but other than that it's super yummy. For the amount of portabellas I had to buy (at a not so cheap price), the stew didn't make that many servings. Oh well. The bread is good, I over baked it a little. For a quick bread it's not bad, but I don't think I'll make it again. When I hear Oatmeal Wheat I expect the kind of bread that you'd get from a yeast bread, so I'm not surprised that it's denser than I wanted. It took ten minutes to put it together and only 45 minutes in the oven. Overall, a good cooking/baking day.

I got up early to do my laundry and went to grab some coffee but ended up reading there for a little over an hour. I'm trying to finish up Giorgio Agamben's Homo Sacer and Bare Life for Birmingham's seminar this quarter. We've been moving slowly though so I'm not too worried. Tonight I have to make significant process on my English Major Inventory report-this is almost all busy work, cataloging my non and Major classes at DePaul and expanding on what I got out of each English class. Boring, but I understand the need to look back through what I've learned and actively engage with it.

In all honesty, I keep going back to thinking about what happened in Bloomington with Landon. The first week back home I didn't contemplate it much at all. But the past few weeks I stop and it hits me really hard. I think it's because I've never felt so comfortable with someone off the bat like I did with Landon. We never had dull conversations and were both perfectly happy not talking about anything, just spending the little time we had together in silence was comfortable and welcoming. Then all of a sudden-bam-he completely disengages. Which would have been fine if this didn't happen after I directly asked him if he was still interested in spending time with me. Blah blah blah, anyway, I've come to the conclusion that the reason I'm still hung up on this that yes, I'm lonely; but also, this is the third person in a row to do this to me. To really engage in a friendship/pseudo-relationship and all of a sudden, out of the blue, completely change their attitude towards me. I'm tired, in the exhausted sense, of establishing some level of trust and intimacy with men only to have them suddenly change their character.

With Matt, he turned brutally unattached, uprooting our six inseparable month relationship. When he broke things off his language with me was entirely unfamiliar. He refused to see me or talk with me any further about it. My other friend that I was hanging out with just kind of freaked out which was fine, he was super busy and still is so it was bad timing but he also, without any explanation flaked out like I'd never seen him do before. Then Landon showed me a side of himself that was selfish and cocky and heartless.

I'm definitely at a stage where I don't trust too many people. I can't deny it. I've just been hurt (all three were varying degrees of hurt, I don't mean to be uber-dramatic) a little too much in the last eight months.

What now I ask? I don't know. Try to strengthen my friendships here in Chicago a little more I guess. Figure out...or just wait to figure out about graduate school. I'm becoming more and more skeptical about acceptance anywhere. Especially since two of my schools didn't get one of my letters of recommendation til this week because one of my recommenders forgot to send them in. Maybe try to establish more relationships on campus to get better letters to apply next year? I don't know.

What now now? Finish my Goose Island Mild Winter beer, put on The Cairo Gang's album, and start my inventory. Oh, and stop worring so much about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Bloomington, IN....not going there again.

I could, without a doubt, write a brutal post right now about how I've lost faith in humanity. But I refuse because even though I spent the worst weekend of my life stuck in Bloomington, IN I've learned a lot about myself. Definitely, I feel more confident in my character because long story short I drove down from Chicago to stay with a friend who completely disregarded me as a human being the whole time I was there.
Without going into any more details than that I know I still have to pursue my life mission of meeting people half-way. I understand how crazy I am, really and truly, so maybe this helps me to realize others quirks and meet them at a point where we can both appreciate each others weird/backward/odd personalities.
I want to walk away from this weekend and start to approach friendships/relationships/whatever with a better attitude but I know this won't happen for a while and I'm fine with that, for now.


C'est tout pour maintanent. I think I'm still too wrapped up in this past weekend to really understand what happened. I want to write through this though. Be prepared?