I flew here by Spirit Air. This airline is notorious for their hidden fees. But I read several online reviews and realized those fees are completely avoidable with planning. So the round-trip flight was $70 and all I’ve had to deal with was some crumbs on the seat and a lack of free pretzels and Fresca. Big deal. For the same price I can ride the Megabus and have to tolerate much worse.
I helped my parents pack for their move. My dad will not part with things like his library of Bonhoeffer and New Testament exegesis texts, even with the prodding and gentle ridicule I give him. I recognize myself there. After all, I failed to throw out my Campbell biology text for years even though it was out of date the moment it was printed.
We walked along a protected stretch of sand dunes on Lake Michigan, which was beautiful. I walked to North Park Nature Preserve and enjoyed the warm weather. And we saw "Dallas Buyers Club." The many sex scenes weren’t awkward at all even though I was with my parents. It’s one of those idiosyncratic markers of adulthood, I suppose – not feeling awkward next to your parents despite lengthy onscreen fucking. We also got stuck in a traffic jam because of a huge fire in a mini-mall. We saw the plume of sick black smoke grow bigger and bigger and we even saw flames. Five news helicopters were overhead and the smell was strong.
I find that I really like Chicago but I would only want to live here if I could be downtown and walk where I need to go, because the traffic congestion is unreal. People can get used to anything, of course. But you have to carefully compare the benefits and costs of a new city. I love the lake and downtown and the culture you can get here. But I hate the political scandals and the racial segregation and the traffic. Here there is the feeling of belonging to a metropolis. I love my city of Minneapolis but you don’t quite get that feeling there. You don’t quite get that feeling of being part of something big, of being elevated and heady.
Now for pizza with my parents ! Funny how even at 27 my mom wants me to eat more. Are parts of motherhood programmed ? And are mothers’ constant exhortations to eat present across all cultures ?
Included: a rodent that I believe was a Franklin’s ground squirrel. A greedy little guy.


