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.