weather can NOT make it better

so that picture down there was just about the last time i ever saw my bike. when i finished studying about 2 hours after i took that picture, i moved it to another bike rack downtown, locked it on the standard chicago bike rack with the extra safe lock (thanks, kryptonite) and left it there for about 4 hours while i went to see a play with kim. and then i went to get it, and it was gone. no trace, no wheel, no chain, no busted lock, just gone.

: (

the epic target debacle

kim and i recently found ourselves in the market for a new bookcase. this was due in part to the ridiculous amount of books one accrues in the process of a medical school education (and the desire to display them to guests--"i know anatomy! i am SMART!"), but also due to the fact that we removed the back from our old bookcase so we could reach the light switch behind it, causing some instability and necessitating the use of a curtain rod for propping up ("i ruined my bookcase...on purpose! i am perhaps not as smart as you thought!").

anyway, like most people do when they want a nice, solid piece of wooden furniture, we turned to target for our furnishing needs. and it was there we found an incredible pre-fab piece of wood and wood-like substances, with only some assembly required. i figured i could handle this assembly with no problem, and i tore into the box. but could i handle it? in your mind, you should be weighing out the evidence presented by the old bookcase: lots of medicine books....but the bookcase itself is broken...on purpose. place your bets accordingly.

fast forward a couple hours. i've just done the only step in the entire process which, if done incorrectly, will irreparably destroy the bookcase when kim comes home. i show her the (nearly completed) work in progress, to which she says "is it supposed to look like that?" and i looked at it, and actually, no. it is not supposed to look like that, with the front part in the back and vice-versa, and screw holes in the part that should be the front. round 1 to the bookcase.

so kim and i went to target to select another bookcase. i asked the customer service rep, in entirely hypothetical terms, if a bookcase could be returned if it had been opened and partially assembled. she replied in the affirmative, so we began our search for bookcase #2. as we browsed the different display offerings, i noted with some satisfaction that the bookcase i'd just mangled at home had the exact same screw holes in the front that i'd given it--so maybe i'm not so smart, but at least i'd potentially make it at target. maybe. let's see how we fared at target.

here in "the big city", space is at a premium, and accordingly buildings are built up to make up for the lack of horizontal space. in a target, this means 2 story targets, which has given rise to the cart-friendly escalator (see pic). so we loaded up our cart with a few other things we needed (several bouncy balls, giant kooshballs, and toys for kim's ESL classes, some socks and underwear for me, and so on), and then we put it all into our cart. i didn't take a picture, so i'm using google images to find for you an approximation of what we were dealing with by the time we loaded our favorite bookcase into the cart:



and onto the escalator our load went, and happily it rode for about 3 seconds until gravity, that malicious little fiend, finally had its way with it, and the whole cart flipped forward, launching, catapult-like, all its contents out into target's airspace. aside from the loud and awkward crashing of the projectile bookcase, it looked very much like a target commercial, as all the underwear and colorful rubber balls arced merrily through the air among smiling white people wearing tasteful sweaters and browsing through cheap goods. it was a glorious scene, and would have also been basically harmless were it not for the fact that those overgrown koosh balls landed at the bottom of the people escalator, got sucked into the gears, and completely stopped the escalator from further functioning.

kim and i walked away and got our bookcase at a different target.

pictorial update essay, pt. 1--the wreck

sorry about the delay in posting--there's been lots happening, and therefore so much to tell, but unfortunately also so little time to tell. since there's so much to say, and since a picture is worth a thousand words, it stands to reason that the most efficient method of catching up is with a lot pictures. because otherwise these posts would be even longer(!).

so, let's see here. when we left our story (forgetting kim's...incident), aaron was in town. we had a great time, and i think aaron will probably back me up when i say that you should come visit us, too--it's good times. so aaron went home, and kim and i went back to our normal lives. and that's where our story begins...

some morning shortly after aaron left, i decided after waking up around 5:30 (which i usually do) that i would go for a bike ride. this is something that i've been wanting to make a regular part of my summer since about the fifth snowstorm of our crappy winter, and all winter i dreamt of how amazing it would be while stumbling through the snow. i imagined myself waking up every morning, going on long epic bike rides, and really enjoying starting my day with vigorous exercise, breathtaking views of the lake, and probably insightful thoughts or beautiful poetry written while sitting on a rock by the lake. in search of all of this excitement and more, this particular morning i rode down to the 57th street beach, and i got off the trail, walked around, and enjoyed the feel of sand on my feet. aaaaah, what a relaxing, great start to a lovely summer day.

as i sat on the beach, however, a menacing, foreboding wind stirred up over the lake and blew onshore (FORESHADOWING!!!). i sat it out (still waiting for my early morning, lakeside epiphany), but eventually i got tired of picking sand out of my eyes, so i decided to head home. the ride home was really nice, because the wind was at my back--i was going fast, enjoying life, and feeling like nothing could possibly be wrong in the world. but (FORESHADOWING) i was wrong. i approached the 18th street bridge and began the difficult climb to the top, digging in and probably imagining that i was winning the tour de france (i often imagine myself winning competitions during mundane parts of the day. throwing paper in the trash can: "3...2...jeremy shoots...1...HE SCORES!!! JEREMY WINS!!!" or while speedwalking to cross the street before the light changes: "and it's jeremy by a nose!!!". or while buttering my toast:"ladies and gentlemen, i think we may have just witnessed the first ever perfect butter/toast application. we await the score from the judges...6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, and from japan...6.0!!! jeremy has done it!!! the gold medal in the toast competition goes to jeremy and the united states!!! it's the miracle on wheat!!!" but i digress). so i crested the epic incline at the bridge, and did that thing that riders do when they win the tour de france. you know, they sit back, hands off the handlebars, and soak in the glory of their accomplishment. and i was so basking when the aforementioned wind decided that it was finished doing me favors for the day, and it was payback time. the wheels went sideways, i quickly grabbed my handlebars, there was a general sprawling and frantic scramble and spectacle (and i swear just as i was going over the front of my bike i thought of this) and i ended flattened, breathless, and unwilling to move, and unnaturally intimate with the pavement. i said "ooooh, oooooh, oooooh" for awhile, and finally i decided i'd rather not be run over, so i dragged myself to the corner. when i got home, here was the damage:



well, and also there was this intense rib pain which has stuck with me since, making me look (feel) like an invalid while getting out of bed. i think i may have broken my rib, which is really painful and really slow to heal. the pain is so intense, i haven't been able to ride my bike since.

but at least i won the tour de france.

26 and On Fire

Yesterday was Jeremy Howe's birthday.

And for his birthday, he got hit by lightning.

Well, not so much HE personally, as the apartment in which he resides with his lovely wife.

About 11 pm last night a huge storm was circling our neighborhood, when suddenly it felt like we were inside of a firing gun or the exploding part of a firework. Crazy flashes of light, huge cracks of noise and sizzly sounds, and phantom smokey smells. It made the hair stand up on your arms and your heart skip around inside your ribcage like a wee bunny rabbit. It hit like 5 or 6 times, and all I could think was, "This seems like it should hurt." Like afterwards you ought to check and make sure none of your organs have liquidized.

We have (had) a turret with a weather vane on the roof right above us, which has now been exploded and had its shingles tossed across the street.

But the most interesting part of the whole event is the fact that we have teeming multitudes of insects that happily co-habitate with us, and when the lightning hit, they all simultaneously dropped out of the air, twitching and dead. CRAZY TIMES my friends. Crazy times.

So for Jeremy's birthday, we got our whole apartment building turning into a giant candle, and a free pest extermination.

The end.