|Autumnal wanderlust, or big city blues
||[Nov. 2nd, 2006|01:01 pm]
Does the urge to travel ever leave a traveler? I've found through many months of trial, dull-and-dreary clouds and rain, and boorish Chicagoans that the answer to that question, at least for me, is no. So, it's understandably harder for me to be in a place I love so much knowing I'll soon be on an ass-numbing 22-hour ride back to a city that constantly kicks me in the nuts. Why go? Why not stay in Georgia? It's saddens me a bit that on the final stretch of the bus ride here, all I could think about was how much it would hurt to leave again. We weren't even in Athens yet, and it already pained me to leave.
Being here is something else. Many things have changed in the short six months I've been gone. 666 Pulaski House is no more (at least compared to its former glory), and our once-beloved co-op seems to have taken a turn for the worse. People have moved and people have left, punk kids exchanged rooms with other punk kids in other punk houses. Time marches on. The weather is amazing- I'm in a tee-shirt and shorts, and I'm totally comfortable; Chicago's already pissing down snow and sleet in-between those innumerable bouts of rain. I suppose it's not all bad- the dumpsters are prolific, I ride my bike (the-richard-dean-anderson-experience) every day, and we met and took in the sweetest cat in the world a few nights ago. But its negative qualities are too numerous and too overpowering to warrant staying in Chicago until April, happily and sanely.
That of course begs the question, "what to do?" Leaving Atlanta on the bus bound for Athens last night, Stacey and I were talking about our options. She wants to go back to Chicago to finish school. It's paid for, it's all online, and it's easy as hell. But, as far as I understand (I know she'll correct me if I'm wrong), she hates Chicago and wants to leave as much as I do. I can't count on all my fingers the number of times we've said to each other, "Why the hell did we come here?" So she wants to leave but can't, and I want to leave and have nothing binding me there but her. We know, at least, that in April/May we're taking a cross-country road trip to Portland with our friend Justin. All of us, no matter what. It's figuring out what to do between now and then to stay happy and healthy and to maintain a strong, open relationship that's the problem. Fucking Chicago...
So, we went over the possibilities: I could stay in Athens while she goes back to Chicago. Sounds great, but I don't think it's quite fair or really safe for Stacey- she's already had her face spat in and had a guy pretend to rob her at work. Scratch that option. We could also both stay in Athens, which seems to be what we both want. If we did that, though, Stacey couldn't finish school, as she has to register for classes in person, and she would be leaving the work-for-which-she-was-hired-that-she-can-finally-do undone at her job. That means no christmas bonus. So, that option is out too.
I think the closest thing to solution that we found today is this: we will both go back to Chicago. For now, at least. In January, Stacey will register for classes in person, then use an address of a "friend" to receive school-related mail. Then, because our buddy (and my big crush) Chris Ingham is moving out of our old house, we'll move back to Athens and take his soon-to-be-vacated room. Using the money from tax-returns/christmas bonus we can pay for the ridiculously cheap room here for four months without having to work, and Stacey can finish all of her classes online using UGA computers. We still have to figure out the logistics of moving her stuff, my bike, and the cats to GA, but we know a few people with cars, and with proper diplomatic begging and pleading, we might be able to borrow a car or employ a friend as cabbie for a few days. This is the most satisfactory plan I can think of, and the idea of being in Chicago for only two months instead of six makes gives me tremulous tummy butterflies the size of elephants.
I conclude, then, with hope and well wishes to all of my beautiful friends. Dinosaur Johnson's a little down, but he's not out for the count. Talk to you soon, kids.