Well this is a little bit better at least.
Some of you may remember when I told you about a temp place and the guy referred me to a company via the phone book. Now, me with my fancy Chicago ways, thought this was really odd. No company there would ever even consider an unsolicited resume from someone who had been referred to them by some random third party.
But, I figured why the hell not. I was sitting around drinking and I got to thinking about it and it occurred to me that while I didn't want to outright call the company (as this fellow had suggested) I could always do a websearch for their page. They sounded like an interesting company and it couldn't hurt, after all. So I found the webpage, wrote a letter explaining where I had heard from them and sent my resume.
I was extremely surprised today when they called me back. They want me to come in for an interview, and bring some writing samples, as they may have jobs available in the technical writing or editing departments. Well, that's pretty damned exciting. So that makes two interviews this week, assuaging my fears of having to take a Target job, and easing the frustrations of this otherwise stressful move.
Friday, we actually got a chance to get out and explore a bit. We went to Valley, to check it out. I can't say I liked the vibe of the place. I'm sure that it's cool, and the downtown campus seems decent, but the main campus felt very much like a high school. It felt very drab and institutional. Not institutional in that old academic way, with the brownstone buildings and creeping vines, but institutional in the way of a sanitarium or a government agency. We then went to Fourth Coast, which was nice. I don't think I've had the chance to go there since the day we signed the lease, and I really like that spot. Kinda dingy, kinda seedy, good coffee and good music---just the way I like it. Then we went to KIA, Kalamazoo Institute of the Arts. Decent stuff, though I thought the best work was their exhibit of student works from local high schools. The little interactive area was cool, too. Rob remarked that if this place was KIA, then the Chicago art museum must be CHIA. I started laughing uncontrollably at the image of a gigantic chia pet in the south loop. After looking around for a bit, we headed home.
That night, we went out for some drinks. We tried to get a hold of our friends but they weren't around. So we went to the Green Top, whose cheap and potent drinks never fail to amaze me. While we were there, one of the local tattooists saw my "I Feel Sick" tattoo, and told me to come by his shop for a piece sometime. Ah cool. I had been wanting a piece in late summer that's based on a lithograph Jennifer did. I really would like to have it done at Wonderland in Detroit, but the place is right down the street from Rob's mom's house and she got a little freaked last time I got a tattoo there. This one is so deeply personal I would rather not have to explain myself when I go to get it. Who knows, and I definitely want at least one more piece from there, but it's nice to know that there are some local folks around here to go to as well.
We went by Club Soda after that, and caught a ska band there. We went home kind of early though, we had to make a trip to Chicago the next day and so we called it an early night.
The next day, Rob and I went for breakfast at Colonial Kitchen. Then, we went by Water Street Coffee Joint for some wake up/ get motivated/get over last night's hang over espresso. Rob dug the place. Then, we got on the road.
Traffic going into Chicago was just horrible. It was about eighty degrees out, there was apparently a game going on, and every trixie and (quite literally) her dog was out rollerblading along lake michigan, in search of a doctor husband. I was torn between liking the vitality of the city, and feeling extreme loathing at all the things that had driven me away from there.
We got to the apartment to pack up the rest of our stuff and take a Jetta load back to Kalamazoo. It seemed like a daunting task. On top of that, we realized just how creepy the apartment was without the cats and all the little things we used to liven it up. Everything emanated a sort of hopelessness and impending doom. We both noticed this. I wondered how much a role that place had played in the past year's events. We ordered some food, a nice reprieve from the packing, then got right back to work.
As I was taking a box to the Jetta, I passed a neighbor I had never met.
"Hi! Moving in?" He said.
"Out. We lived here a year."
"Oh." He looked embarrassed. "So have I,sorry."
No big deal. It's the nature of apartments in a large city. We finished packing and got back on the road. As we drove out of Chicago, I looked at the old buildings that were both depressing and beautiful. I looked at the train tracks, the lights, and thought about everything I had hoped the city would be. Then I thought about everything that had happened, the bad memories and disillusionment, all the cool stuff that seemed to get driven out, and the general sense of resignation I felt about this. It was a pity, but I was glad to be getting away from it.
Sunday, we sat around in our pajamas watching television all day. Since school is just getting out, you can't get a truck or even a mini van for shit in Kalamazoo. So we had arranged to rent a van from Avis out of OHare, park the car in long term parking at the airport, take our stuff to Kalamazoo and return the van to OHare the next day. This was tomorrow. I was going to enjoy the reprieve while it lasted.
Today we went to Chicago. I realized I must be adjusting to Kalamazoo because I was slightly more enamored by the liveliness. Not so much that I wasn't glad to be gone, but enough that I could give the city credit for what it still has to offer. Driving into the city, I remembered how anti social I had become living there. Although still private, I have at least got a certain joy in being around people and to a lesser extent, trust. As we passed through the streets I remembered just how much had happened, how chaotic the past two years had been and how little I could relate to the life there. I wanted to, I think, but I also think I just had a different way of looking at things, a different value system from many of the folks I encountered.
We loaded up the stuff, in between rain and wind. I realized it was the last time I would set foot in that run down, creepy apartment. No more slum lords skirting on the edge of the law, no more junkie neighbors downstairs from me, no more gang tags on the building walls. I might miss some of the great restaurants in Chicago but I sure as hell won't miss living in anxiety and substandard accomodations for $800 a month.
Now we're at home, and resting before unloading the truck. I have a job interview tomorrow, the first of two. The transition from three million people to 77,000 might be a big one but I think it's all going to be worth it.