Extraordinary Very Merry Christmas

Let's get this job talk out of the way, because it's worth mentioning.  When we last met, I was excited to be starting this position at LA Fitness.  A step in the right direction, albeit getting there was a little shakey and a lot of worry for nothing.

Or so I thought.

There was finally a position in a gym for me, with my certification shiny and ready to be used, from a gym that contacted me; I didn't have to do the grunt work!  I wasn't even looking.  Shouldn't that have been a tell-tale sign all along?  Yes.  It should have.

LA Fitness is a big box gym, the biggest gym chain in the country I believe.  A facility where people pay money to go to work on themselves, each setting different goals to be where they want to be either healthfully or aesthetically.  LA Fitness provides lots of machines and weights and other such gym accessories for those looking to meet those goals.  But God.  At what cost?

It's an attractive value.  Many locations for a cheap price.  Open long hours during the day so you can go just about anytime you'd like.  There's even a personal training department to help you evaluate your goals, and with us, we can help you figure out the most efficient and effective way for you to accomplish them!

That's where I come in.  Hi, I'm Angel and I'm with the training department.  Can I interest you in a person training assessment, free of charge, to help you accomplish the goals you're striving for here today?

Oh, you're busy... right, you're working out.  And you have headphones on.  Okay, no need to be rude.  Just doing my job.

*     *     *

From day one on the job, I met the two guys I'd be working with.  Both having been personal trainers who are now Fitness Directors at the LA Fitness location at which I'd be working.  Introductions, yada yada -- here, Angel. Here's a clipboard with a blank piece of paper.  Go sell training.
"Umm, so what do I do?  I mean, can you show me how it's done first?"
"Oh, I guess you can shadow me for a bit."
Perfect.  What a relief.

"Hi, ma'am.  My name's Jesse [so on and so forth about setting goals and meeting them effectively and efficiently.]  Okay, no problem, ma'am.  If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come by our training offices! ... think you can handle that, Angel?"
And I was on my own.

From day one, blank piece of paper on a clipboard.  Go sell.

After about 5 days of this, I got a few phone numbers of clients so we can call them to set up appointments, but not anyone who actually wanted to go through with these appointments.  After a while, these 2 guys I would work with would berate me and say "We could go out there and get 30 phone numbers and book 10 appointments in an hour!"
The difference between these guys and me was, well, first and foremost there's confidence.  But I also have morals, and self awareness for these people.  I work out (not at LA Fitness) and it's my time.  It's my time to go to the gym, work on myself, and try to achieve my own personal goals.  I don't go there to talk to people.  I hate it when people try to talk to me at the gym.  It's distracting, unnecessary, and not the place for any sort of small talk.
If I were working out and someone not only tried to talk to me, but then tried to sell me something, and continued to push after I had said no, I would seriously consider going to another gym.
Now, the gym I work out at, which I really enjoy, has personal trainers.  I see them around with clients all the time.  But no one is walking around with a clipboard trying to push it on every member.

After my initial pushes on people weren't working, they had me try another approach.  They told me to write on a big piece of paper, 'DO YOU WANT PERSONAL TRAINING' and walk up and down all of the cardio equipment and show people the sign as I walk by and see if anyone would bite.

Never worked for me.

So, as big of a failure I was at bothering people and bullying them into buying something they didn't want, they showed me what would happen after I got a client to book an appointment.  We went through the rundown of what we tell these people, which has a lot to do with confusing them, drawing little charts, and asking them about their goals.

Say Patty came in and said, "I want to lose 60 lbs!" and Joseph came in and said "I'm trying to lean out and put on about 15 lbs of muscle," or Robert said, "I'm trying to cut and need to lose about 10 lbs of fat."
Our job was to tell each of these clients that it would take them roughly 50-60 weeks of personal training to attain these goals.  Yes, whether you want to lose 10 lbs or 100 lbs, we could get you results in a fucking year.

Of course I believe in personal training.  I think it could benefit absolutely everyone, even personal trainers themselves.  Having someone push you, bestow knowledge on you, intrigue you with new ideas, it is always beneficial.  I also believe in most circumstances, for most people, about 3 months of personal training could be enough.  That's if you're motivated to reach your goals and need someone to teach you proper form, certain exercise plans, and what it takes to make each of these goals happen so you don't give up and don't plateau before you reach them.

A year of personal training, while not crazy, excessive, or a bad thing, is a bit much for the average person.  Personal training is expensive, and usually an expense people don't want to commit an entire year to.  But if they can, that's great, and it can only help you in the long run.

Another piece of information given to these people is that if they gain 10 lbs of lean muscle, somehow magically you are guaranteed to be burning a pound of fat every week completely at rest, doing nothing.

This is the blanket statement they give to people.  Not considering that people also are taking in calories, are not always at rest, and that 10lbs of lean muscle does a pound of fat a week make.  It just doesn't add up.  But you talk fast, confuse people, and they might not ask super specific sciencey questions.

Now I questioned my knowledge when I was told this, which was a bit scary, but then my superior who was telling me all this (by the way I should mention he's gone from my position, to personal trainer, to Fitness Director in about 3 months.  Turnover much?) also sidebarred me with, "Now we both know this isn't true, but it's just what we tell people."

That was the moment I wanted to walk out.  But I didn't.  I came in one more day, and they gave me my blank piece of paper and clipboard, told me to make sales, and by the middle of the day I had only managed to acquire a couple phone numbers, they did what they had been doing to me for almost each day I was there; they told me to leave early read the packet of lies yet again, and come back tomorrow.  This was after another session of "WHY ARE YOUR SALES NOT HIGHER?!?!?" and talking down to me and making me feel like an utter disappointment.
So my sales suck, they make me leave early every day, and not once did I ever have a single bit of training besides a sales packet that only told me what to lie to people about once we got them sitting in the chair.
Now, these guys obviously weren't geniuses and one of them has only been there 3 months, so... I don't know.  Shitty company, not sure if I'm even getting paid for the week and a half I was there... but when I was told to come in on a Saturday bright and shiny at 8am to annoy more people with my clipboard and paper, it was finally time to say fuck it, and never show my face there again.  And judging by the phone call I did not receive the next day, I'm guessing this sort of thing happens quite a lot there.

I worked at the highlighted location.  The purple one.  The Lakeview location.  The one with 1.5 stars.

So I am now unemployed around the holidays, which means Yay, no stressing about working too much around the Holidays!  But it also means I have no income which, you know, scary.

But I've been making a few calls, sending a few resumes, and enjoying my time off in the snow, taking pictures and enjoying this extraordinary very merry Christmas.

Rode the Santa Express downtown yesterday to the Christkindlmarkt, a Bavarian holiday market downtown.  It was pretty cute.  Enjoyed some Glühwein and even got to keep the mug!  It was adorable.

So if you're wondering what to get the guy who has ... well, no job, you can always take a peek at my Wishlist on Amazon for inspiration!

http://amzn.com/w/3M0CMUKYC7OYO

Happy Holidays everyone!

Passion Play

There have been many a great changes occurring.  I wanted to do a video about it but I never got around to it.  Oh well.  Maybe next time.  I'll actually be having a lot of time to be doing these updates from here on out.  Now only if I had something to write about.

And now I do!

I'm writing this as I sit in a cushy brown chair in a Starbucks here in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago with the Apple logo glowing behind the screen into which I'm staring, just like all of the great writers of the world.  This Starbucks is located half a block from a complex which houses an LA Fitness gym on its top floor.  I work at this gym now.

Say what?!

Yes, I am working in a gym now.  It's not in the position for which I am qualified, no.  So here's what happened.  I get a random phone call a month or so ago asking me if I am interested in becoming a personal trainer at LA Fitness.  I say sure, let's give it a shot.  I go in for an interview that day.  I meet with a couple guys and discuss my qualifications, and I am very honest.

I say to them, look.  I have this certification, sure.  However, I would not feel very comfortable working with people in a person training capacity just yet, as I think my W.I.T.S certification course was kind of a load of haberdashery. I explained the course instructor was never prepared, seemed to not know what she was doing, and didn't really have us do a lot of hands on training.

They appreciated this honestly and told me I ought to start out in a different position.   This position is called a personal training counselor.  They explained the role to me, how I could work to be comfortable at personal training, and I accepted, even though I was a bit confused as to what this position actually entailed.

Later that evening, I received a phone call being offered the position, and I accepted.  And that's when things started to get a wee bit confusing.  I figured this would be a full time position, and so I could work with it to do this gym position as well as keeping some hours at the current gig, bartending at the Twisted Vine, the lovely wine and whiskey bar that took me under their wing when I was but a baby to the exciting whirlwind of Chicago city life.  So to get all of that situated, I came in for my first day of work to LA Fitness in early November.

We discussed my availability, which at the time was a November schedule at the bar that was written in late October, for the entire month of November.  At a bar with 3 employees.  No time off, no switching shifts, no quitting without notice (I didn't want to be a dick), and thusly, no gym job until my schedule cleared up.  He presented to me what the hours would look like.  6 days a week, with 3 of those days being there for about 11 hours, with a 4 hour break in the middle.  Meaning no time for two jobs.

So I put it off.  I was told when my schedule cleared, I would have a position at LA Fitness waiting for me.  I was told that sometime around November 13, and with a birthday weekend coming up, my birthday being November 16, I decided to put off dealing with that work junk, and made the commitment to report my final days at the bar to my boss when I came into work that following Tuesday.  Before that, I called LA Fitness to make sure he would keep his word that I had a position there should I decide to quit my current bartending gig.  It was confirmed.  So Tuesday came (my birthday weekend was great by the way), and it was consistently busy.  Never a dull moment.  Never a moment to breathe.  Never a moment to discuss the end of days with my boss.

Then came Wednesday.  It was a day that started with lots of busy work involving some side project my boss had been working on regarding Christmas ornaments and lots and lots packaging popcorn -- the fluffy stuff in packages.  My co worker would come in 2 hours after I had arrived, and committed that I would disclose the notice before she came in.  And so I did.  It went something like, "Hey, gotta tell ya somethin!" And then the blabbering of news came out, and the reaction received was an unexpected one.  Few words, mostly silence.  In fact, it was nearly 2 weeks of silence thereafter, an appropriately wintery chill, up until I finished my term at the bar, my last couple days there completely void of my boss, my friend who I had made since my walking into the once warming establishment.

It was strange to me, yet not surprising that he decided to be absent that day due to many different factors I won't bore you with here.  But so how he decided to end it, and thus it was.

I called LA Fitness about the position, and there were a few concerning hiccups.  The guy I was in contact with wasn't there for a few days.  When I came back, he told me to come in the next morning.  Then he called me back saying instead coming in for an interview with a guy named Al.

Heart racing.  Blood pressure rising.  What did he mean an interview?  I had already done the hiring paperwork.  I filled out those forms.  I was given his word on the position.  I was offered a full time position and I had quit my job to make this transfer, from the less than stellar world of bartending, late nights, no social life, and lots of bitch work, to a field in which I could thrive and put my actual passions into play.

I went in for this so-called "interview" with Al.  One of the first things he asked me was a question about whether I'm looking for full time or part time work.  I began with, "So I'm a little confused..."  I think he was too, be he recovered by telling me to chill out and that he just needs to meet everyone before their officially on board.  I think there were some mistakes made in this little process that scared and stressed the ever-living bejeezus out of me, but all was well in the world.

So that's where I am now.  And I know now more about the position.  Essentially I am selling personal training, in itself involves a bit of personal training from me to the potential clients.  So it's a step in the right direction.  But it's still sales.  That's never been in my best graces, but I will try my best until I make the position what I want for it to be.

And now I have that schedule, the unusual one where I have 4 hour lunch breaks.  I'm on one of those lunch breaks.  I had my food, and came into Starbucks, and I brought my computer with me.  So I can sit here at this Starbucks, like all the great writers of the world, and deliver you a much delayed continuation of my adventures since moving from Seattle.

Gym and Journeys

I've been gaining a bit of weight.  But no, in the good way.


A few weeks ago I was somewhere in the  11% range of body fat, but now that I've adjusted my little body fat reader to my current weight gain (to like 156 lbs or something) it tells me I'm at a comfortable 9%.

This top hangs on me, 

but one day, it will be tight...

Some notes on how I see my progress... well, I think my shoulders are coming in nicely and love the way they look in a tank top.  However, my pecs are growing unevenly.  I've heard to use dumbbells for presses when that happens, so that's what I've been doing.  No barbell bench presses for me.  Hopefully that works out the issue, because having a left pec that's noticeably larger (to me anyway) ain't cute.

Yesterday was a chest/tri day at the gym, so today it'll be back to bis/lats.  I might go easy on those and also work shoulders more since I haven't done that in a good few days now.  I can't imagine anyone who reads this finds this at all interesting.  How can I spice up my fitness blog?  Tips and tricks?  I dunno.  I kind of have a routine so there's nothing really out of the ordinary.  But if a sex scandal comes up from the gym, I'll let you know.  Or maybe I'll start taking steroids and write very angry blogs about all the ugly people in my life.  That would be something different.  

Let's bring this blog full circle for the moment and talk a little more about Chicago life.

I went on an architecture tour a couple weeks ago.  Apparently it was the wrong tour... I mean, it was interesting, but it wasn't THE Architecture Tour.  Guess there's an architecture society or something?  No one told me about this, so I went with one that I found on Groupon.  It wasn't bad, but didn't blow my skirt up like I expected, as everyone always creams themselves when talking about the architecture tour... but to be honest, Chicago seems to be a city that overhypes absolutely everything (Market Days, anyone?) which makes me feel a little better about the horror stories people have about winter.

I pieced together a little panoramic photo from some shots I got out in the lake.  Chicago is pretty and has some impressive architecture, for sure.

Ideas From The Cloud

Feels like I should be more inspired to write, but it can often be tricky to come up with subject matter to write about.  I had taken some notes a week or so ago regarding my living situation, my roommate, and the overall hipster-chic feel of it all.  Then I realized that might be kind of boring.  But then I thought to myself, is posting nothing at all really a better solution?   Not really.

I use writing as a creative outlet.  I don't seem to have to many of those these days as I used to.  I loved to draw and doodle as a kid.  I did a lot of blogging (complaining about how stupid my parents were) as a pre-teen.  I did a lot of acting and musical theatre in high school.  After that, video blogging was something I enjoyed doing rather frequently.  Then I got into painting.  Last summer I bought a camera and have been enjoying learning the fine art of photography, taking inspiration from artistic photo websites and seeing if I can get an idea on how to replicate those shots.  Yet, I don't go out with my camera too much anymore.

Lately at works in times of ultimate lack of anything to do (which is rare -- Facebook is always at my fingertips) I have been known to spot a pad of paper and taken to sketching something silly on it.  I've always had a thing for drawing an eye, and then designing a creature, usually cat-like, around it.  But nothing really interesting.  So I feel like I have this intense need for a creative outlet in random parts of my life but I haven't felt like I've been all that great at what I've created.  In my defense, art is subjective.

I took a creative writing class in college and we had an assignment to submit a poem for the entire class to read aloud and critique it.  Poetry has never been my thing, so I used a poem that I was inspired to write when I was 18, during a summer I had spent in Alaska and I was stuck on a boat for 12 hours a day.  It was rhymey, about a relationship that faltered, all that expected, trite sort of bull.

It was submitted to the class and read aloud anonymously.  Everyone hated it.  No, like everyone.  Not a nice thing was said about it.  Well, until our instructor asked if the author wanted to come forth and defend his work, which I did, and a nice girl in the class declared, "Well I liked the rhyming," probably seeing my humiliation forming in my eyes and about to stream down my face.

It inspired me to write another poem.  It was a poem about how I personally believe art isn't 'good' or 'bad'.  It's a way for a certain person to express themselves and if not another single person on earth can read the emotion that went into that piece, so what?  If it meant something to the "artist", then at least one person got something out of it.  And it also defended my personal interest in having poems rhyme.

Then there was another, probably also seen as terrible, poem I wrote about how there are a lot of things out there that I find I am okay at, but nothing comes to mind of anything that I really, really excel at.  So that's sort of a downer, and do I still believe that?  Who knows.  I don't try to think about it.  I live my day to day life, which a lot of people may find uninspired and going from day to day just living and not trying to achieve anything.  Again, maybe true.  I always have an idea of what I'd like my life to be like, and somehow either there isn't an intense motivation to get to that point, or my excuse that it's hard to balance a job and school without any other outside help is actually a valid one.

It's a topic I hate to think about and don't discuss with many people, but I see those who are successful out there and they are typically the ones who come from supportive families.  Then on the flip side, I think ... but everyone I know seems to be more successful than I am.  And then I think, yet again, most people who don't come from supportive families and are sort of down and out on their luck seem to never leave the small town they come from.

This has really just been a post of my progressive thoughts as I wrote this.  Ramblings, really.  This post started out with an idea, one I visualize as sort of a foggy, less compact cloud of ideas, and the more I wrote, the firmer the message became in my head and I was able to focus on a few of those certain aspects.  It is at this point in the post that I will give it a title -- not that I had an idea at the beginning and titled it appropriately.  Let's make that much clear.

To be perfectly honest, there are a lot of things I wish I could write about, but I couldn't bring myself to stand up and declare those stories of my life at the risk of certain people finding them, reading them, and knowing exactly how I am feeling about certain situations.  That's what I have friends for I guess, but still... I don't know.  They don't get the full, reign-free let-my-ideas-flow whole of it.

Suppose I could write those elsewhere... and publish those perhaps I figure out if I'm still in need to hide my thoughts from those people, whether if it's from realizing I can have complete honesty with them, or if they will no longer be in my life in a way that I have to fear their judgement.

Best Defense

Today I made a purchase that was probably a smart move, but a purchase made that I didn't want to have to make, because it addresses in the front of my head that at certain times throughout my week, I may be in danger.

You know when you're not necessarily rolling in the dough, and you avoid looking at your bank account because if you can't see it, it's not real?  It's kind of like that.

Today I purchased some mace off of Amazon.

No, not that kind of mace.  As in pepper spray.  "Police grade" they call it.

Last night I was leaving work at midnight, and I was entering the Redline station at Addison.  I heard yelling and shouting inside as I entered, and this girl outside with a stroller said to me, "You might not want to go in there," but she seemed a little out of sorts/crazy so I went in anyway.  I couldn't see anything happening, but heard a lot of different people who forgot to use their inside voices.

I enter the train station, and behind the turnstiles is a large group of thuggish men, fighting, and with blood all over their clothes.  I checked my surroundings and there were $5 Footlongs from Subway thrown all over the ground, and also on the ground there were several puddles of blood, and spatterings around as well.

People seem to have trouble understanding what's going on in that photo, so know that it's all the ground, and the can there is a decal on the floor advertising Coors Light.  And that's some blood next to it.  Quite a bit of blood (scale is hard to make out in this photo -- sorry)

The neighborhood where I live seems relatively safe... but anything can happen anywhere.  I see troubling looking people all over Chicago -- the city that has surpassed New York City as the most violent in the nation.  That's a title not worth scoffing at.

The neighborhood in which I work has become, from what I've been told, more and more dangerous in the past year or so.  A bunch of undesirables have made their way from the south side and like to party it up in Boystown and cause all sorts of trouble with people walking along the street.  No fun.

So now I will be carrying mace with me, in my pocket, in my hand, as I walk from work to the train station late at night.  It worries me though.  I've never used anything like that.  If I'm confronted with someone with a weapon, will I actually take the risk to pull out the mace, aim it at their face, and press the button?  Too many thoughts would occur.  What if I miss?  What if they reach out to stab me while being temporarily blinded?  What if I'm not fast enough?  

What if I'm outnumbered?  It's a bit of peace of mind, I guess, since my only protection before this was holding my keys in my hand, and knowing I'm a ridiculously fast runner... but who's for sure that they're not faster?

It's something.  Probably a smart idea.  At least if I am confronted by someone, I have an option to defend myself and that's always a good thing.  Now, if I'm blindsided and punched in the face at random, that's something else.  I just want to avoid the blood in my veins spilling out into the open air and onto the surfaces surrounding me.  That would be totally uncool.

Progress Report

I'm sitting on the purple line right now, updating from my brand new iPhone 5s which I acquired yesterday. It's a beautiful piece of machinery about 7,500 times faster than my previous iPhone 4.  Now I'm looking forward to reading this post in about a year, when I'll be cursing how crappy and slow my iPhone is. Such is the life of technology!

So the purple line. My first time on it. Heading to Northwestern University to workout with a friend at their gym.  

Progress has been good. Been studying a lot on many different aspects of fitness and browsing the forums over at a reputable bodybuilding website. 

That's as of today.  Why is the chest so hard to build?  I want it big and I want it now!  

So that's going well. Everything else in the world is pretty much standard. I mean I could tell you the debacle it was on trying to obtain my new iPhone but it's really not that interesting. Mostly frustrating and I'm done venting about it because no one cares and the issue has been resolved. Anywho...

That's what's going on in my neck of the woods. What's going on in yours?

Worst Blogger Evaarrr!

I should really work on keeping up on this.  I wouldn't mind keeping it as a fitness log, which some might find interesting, some might not.  Who knows.  Who cares?  I don't need to categorize this thing... I'll write when I feel like writing.

On Saturday, a couple friend of mine and I took an epic road trip up to Saugatuck, MI.

It was pretty fun.  When we arrived, we realized that this place, which he had heard was a gay resort town, was chock-fulla heteros and families.  No bueno.  The gay resort there was booked solid, however, for some hardcore fetish party.  Interesting.  They were all confined to their resort and didn't venture out into town.  So all the gays in town were not only fetishists, but confined to a highly secured gay resort.  Lame.

We walked around town a bit, had a lunch in a crowded straight restaurant, and were all in a pretty defeatist mood.  We were about to head back to the city, do some wine tasting along the way, but decided to grab a Geocache (look it up) before heading out.  The closest one brought us back to the gay resort.  While there, we decided why not go ahead and grab a drink.

We spoke (flirted) with the bartender, he told us about the event, and said the bar, at least, would be open and pretty fun later in the evening.  He talked us into booking a room across the street -- where they have a pool -- and so we did.

We went swimming, later went out to dinner, got some alcohol, had a couple drinks, went to the bar, drank there, and met a lot of awesome people.  It led to a skinny dipping party in our outdoor hotel pool.  Awesome.

Whatever else happened stays in Saugatuck.

The next day we went to this awesome diner full of middle America people.  Out of shape, unattractive people who don't take care of themselves and go about every day life waiting for the days to pass until they are sent to the golden gates to meet their maker.  It was interesting to say the least.  Like somewhere they would go on an early episode of Roseanne or something.

We also went apple picking!

It was pretty adorable and now I have way too many apples and it didn't even cost me $5.

We did end up grabbing a geocache before leaving Michigan (because I want to find one in every state if possible!), which was in a beautiful area that kind of closed the book on summer in a way.  It seemed like things are about to slow down around these parts.

What's Going On

This update comes from my iPhone, so don't expect the usual great strides of poetic bloggery. 

Now, this is what has been going on. Still working out as much as possible (within reason) and I think I've been making pretty great strides.  Here's a photo I took last week. 

Legs are still a bit scrawny but the upper bod is coming along. 

Last weekend I was in DC. A friend I made at the bar works in travel and invited me along on a trip to DC. I had never been, so it was a pretty awesome experience.

I bought a Michelle Obama magnet as a souvenir. I kinda love it. 

That's about the short of it. Enjoying Chicago and all it has to offer. Friendships are developing nicely which is exciting. I might have more to say later. Next weekend I have plans to go to a gay resort town in Michigan, and then a gay theme park night at Six Flags the following weekend. It's gonna be a gay ole' time. 

Today

I'm feeling pretty fabulous lately, in case anyone is wondering.

Flapping 'Em In The Breeze For The World To See

Still a little hard up concerning friends.  I've met lots of people, but they seem to only want to date, and if I don't want to date them, then it's nothing.  Every single guy is looking for either sex or a boyfriend, and I just want a good friend or two.

So I move on to the guys who are in relationships.  Then the question arises, "So are you into threeways?"

PUT YOUR DICKS AWAY GENTLEMEN.

Off Of Feelings

Just woke up from last night's craziness so I'm going to go ahead and just start spouting off emotions.

Yesterday was a pretty frantic day.  It's Market Days in Chicago which is this big gay street fair, and I work on the street on which it takes place.  It's hectic, lots going on, etc. etc, but my overall feelings on the event is that it was supremely overhyped to me.   The best way people could describe Market Days to me was, 'omg, it's so craaazy.'  They talked to me like this guy from this tiny fishing village they call 'Seattle' could not possibly comprehend the epicness that is Market Days.

Lots of guys at the club which is cool, lots of guys in the street, lots of this and that going on, but I was expecting some Folsom Street Fair shit or something and it was nowhere near that crazy.  Just a large gather of gays.

Last night I got off work at around 1:15am.  Afterwards, I was going to meet a friend at a late night bar, and as I was leaving work this cute girl tried coming into the bar and I told her we were closed and that I was leaving.  We got to talking and she ended up joining me and my other friend was too drunk to be able to come out anyway.  But this girl was super drunk too.

We ended up bar hopping and spending way too much money.  I ran into this guy who I met once and we were supposed to hook up but it never happened.  He was with his new guy and some other friends.  We tried getting into a different late night bar, apparently we were with a 20 year old so she couldn't get in, my new drunk friend decided to go home, and everyone else sort of split off.  So I went away towards the street parade area to another gay bar by myself.

On my walk, this group of african american men outside of Dunkin Donuts grab me on my walk, threw his fist into my face after uttering something like, "Hell naw," and pushed me away.

Now I'm a fast walker in general, so I kept moving and wondering what the fuck just happened, but still in hindsight, on this extremely busy night, I'm annoyed no one came to my aid to ask me if I was okay.  I got to my destination and walked back and forth wondering if I should go into the club or not.

I did, checked my face in the mirror in the dark club lighting and there was no bruising.  Went to the main area and talked to a random person about it and he said my face looked very swollen.  Upon feeling it, I felt a few large lumps in my jaw.  However, no broken teeth or anything like that which I was thankful for.  He happened to hit right in the area where I happened to have had a tooth extracted back in 2008ish and I honestly feel like if that was still there, he would have cracked it.  It hurt a lot.

Over the next half hour a lot went through my head.  Mostly it was the overwhelming sense of loneliness which I have experienced since I moved here that I haven't really admitted to anyone.  But I feel extremely lonely about 60% of the time I'm here.  I'm terrible at making friends, am extremely introverted, have gone out many times by myself and have managed not to meet anyone.  When I meet some cool people, they all seem to want it to lead to sex and if it doesn't, they stop talking to me.

So this whole debacle has mostly shaken up the lonely feeling up by a couple hundred percent.  I had no one to talk to about it besides strangers at the club when I was drunk, then after I got home, only able to vent about it on Facebook.

Overall I'm okay.  My jaw really hurts, can't open my mouth all the way, the left side of my face is swollen, but I think my spirit is the biggest thing to take a beating from all of this.  I feel so deflated and really wish I didn't have to deal with going to work today, but I do because it's a really big event.  So, guess I have to suck it up and roll with the punches.

Into the Groove

Hey blog-reading people,
Probably not many of you since my last post got 3 hits... but it was one of the only ones I didn't directly post on my Facebook, so... there's that.

I sure could use a deep, painful, unforgiving, soul-scarring massage right now.  You see, I used to work out.  A lot, actually.  For a little under a year, I had the gym bug, which I am trying to get back again.  But it was all in convenience.  This was back when I was in Bremerton temporarily but still working in Seattle.

The Bremerton ferry would drop me off in Seattle and I would exit the ferry terminal where you see the big red dot.  Now, there were two ferries I could take.  One that would get me into Seattle at around 7:50am, when I worked at 7:45.  My work is the big green dot.  Now, this was a corporate cruise line I worked for and being even 1 minute late added up to repercussion.   So that wasn't an option at all.  I had to take a ferry that got me into Seattle an hour and a half before work.

Now, during lunch one day I decided to go tanning.  The only tanning option in this 'financial district' of Seattle was at this gym located on 2nd and Cherry (big blue dot), just downhill from my work.  I went in, went tanning, and I saw signs saying they were celebrating their 2 year anniversary at that location and were offering memberships with no enrollment fee for $14 (!!) a month.  So I decided, yes, of course I am going to do that.  I even got a personal trainer twice a week for a couple months to sort of show me the ropes.  It wasn't cheap, but I was saving some major money, both a.) with the $14 gym membership, and b.) living in Bremerton.

Now the reason I included a map in this story is because, if you look at the location of everything, it works out absolutely perfectly.  I had to get to Seattle a hour and a half early before work so I wouldn't be late, and what else am I going to do?  Well, on the way to work, why not waltz my ass 2 blocks uphill to my gym, work out, shower, change for work, and then walk the remainder of the way up those steep-ass Seattle hills.

So I was working out 5 to 6 days a week.  Sometimes even on weekends I would stay overnight in Seattle and before heading back to Bremerton, I'd hit the gym.  It was great.  I went from a scrawny guy who fluctuated between 125 to 135lbs at 12-14% body fat to a solid 155lbs with 7% body fat.  It was awesome.

Then I moved back to Seattle.  To Capitol Hill.  And I switched jobs.  I was working on Capitol Hill.  If you're on Capitol Hill, at the way at the top of the city, you don't wander downhill for any reason.  Everything you need is there.  So I stopped going to the gym.  But they wouldn't let me cancel over the phone, I sort of forgot about it, switched banks at some point, accrued debt there since they couldn't charge me and I'm pretty sure I still have a lien on my record somewhere for that.

So I joined 24 hours fitness... which is just down Denny from where I lived.  Down, as in downhill.  I went here and there.  Got a workout buddy who I went with occasionally (Hi, Billy!) and tried to maintain and build, but I just wasn't going enough.  Eventually, I lost my job, had to quit completely, and that was the last time I was part of a gym.  That was probably mid 2011.

I worked out here and there and went on runs quite a bit.  I would work out in Seattle's police gyms, and I technically wasn't allowed to be there so I didn't go as often as I'd like, but tried to squeeze in a lot of night workouts in preparation for trips to Europe or a Caribbean cruise... which was gay.  So that's a lot of pressure.

So the reason why I need this life-changing, I-wanna-smack-a-bitch massage?  Because I rejoined a gym 2 days ago, did a tri/chest routine my first day and did legs/lower back the 2nd and my entire body is saying "FUCK YOU."  When I had my personal trainer, he worked my legs like a mother effer.  And after him, I would work on them quite a bit until one day I was doing box jumps, and I didn't quite hit the box and I scraped the shit out of my shin, blood everywhere, still have a scar, it scarred me for life.  So leg workouts have not been a focal point in my exercise routine in well over 2 years.

Now I can't walk, sit, stand, lie down, anything.  It all hurts.  Going downstairs is tricky.  But it's all worth it and even with the pain, I enjoy this feeling.  Pain means progress, just like day 3 of using Crest Whitestrips when your gums are peeling and you have that acid burning sensation engulfing your mouth in flames... but you have progressively whiter teeth.

ahem...

So that's me.  Today.  Yeah.  I am never one for posting such a graphic photo for all to see on the internet, but hey.  I want to keep track of my progress and I am holding myself accountable not to let myself be seen as not trying hard enough, so now that you see that, I'll have to follow up with progress, or else I'm a loser with no friends.

Anyway, I just posted a shirtless pic of myself on the internet so I am going to step away from the keyboard right now.  The reason I'm in a swimsuit is because I'm going to the beach so I can get nice and dark and look like this:

Hi, mom!

I'm out.

Blog Short

Yes, it's been a while.

I could apologize, but that would seem pretty presumptuous of me.

In all honesty, not a whole lot has been going on.  I've been working 5 to 6 days a week, and while I suppose I do meet a lot of interesting people I could be writing about, it typically slips my mind.  I've toyed with the idea of bringing my computer to work and to write about that, but that hasn't happened yet.  We will see.

Something big that is happening is I am moving.  Over the next couple of days, I will be picking up my life here in the Siberia of Chicago (west Rogers Park) and moving a block away from the Berwyn red-line stop.  In case you're not from here, that's essentially turning a commute of a 45 minute bus ride plus a 20 minute walk to get home at night to an 8 minute train ride (if even) and a 30 second walk to get home.  That's pretty dope.

So that's what's been going on in my world.  And a lot of work.  And perhaps a bit too much partying.  But I think for now that can be another post later in the week. I have met some interesting people, and a subject has come up recently that I've never really had to face in life before, so that could make for an interesting story as well.

Until then...

Round Peg, Square Hole

Until today, I thought one of the most unfuckable people in the world was the guy my mom has been dating since I was 15.  I'd describe him for you but I just had processed meat for lunch and I'm already not very good at keeping that down.

The Chicago Hot Dog.  With all those pickled vegetables, where's the room for the cream cheese? #seattledog

Everything has changed.  I try not to judge people too harshly unless I am given a reason, so I almost felt bad about this guy I temporarily coexisted with on the bus, with his size x-large K-Mart wifebeater hugging his midsection, constraining what can only be imagined as an outie belly button the size of a tennis ball and showing off a skin tag on his shoulder blade that I would describe as a birthday balloon deflated only enough for the party to have been maybe 4 or 5 days ago.  He had on saggy black basketball shorts and something around his head to the effect of an old engine room rag twirled into a thin strip, likely to keep the sweat on his bald head from dripping onto his face, which was being violently molested by his finger around the nasal area.

Alas, I was given a reason to comment after all of these thoughts had already run through my head.  This man was standing on the bus in all of his lack of physical glory, walking to the front, and as the bus approached a stop, would hurry the people getting on the bus -- no one moved fast enough for him.

All the same, when passengers would be disembarking, he would chime in, "Hurry!  Hurry!  Come on, now!"  The young women getting off the bus were treated no better, but were I'm sure feeling like ladies when he would rush them with direct eye contact on their tits and asses.  Dick.

It's certainly a strange coincidence that after I got off this bus with this fat piece of shit, I get home, check the mail, and I have something delivered to me from W.I.T.S, or World Instructor Training Schools.  You see, back in June of 2012 (a year ago), I had finished up a 9 week personal training certification course.  The whole process was kind of a joke.  It was once a week, the instructor was nice a hot, beefy drill sergeant or even a lean, fit, perky young lady with a positive outlook on life.  It was a pear shaped woman in her late 50's/early 60's who was apparently some sort of dance instructor who wore a pressured grin the entire 9 weeks and had a short temper.  Ok, that last part might not be quite true, but she looked a lot like my bitter, awful drama teacher back in high school, so that's where that might have come from.

Anyway, this entire class had very little hands-on training whatsoever and I honestly didn't feel like I learned a lot.  And probably didn't, because when it came to taking the final, I passed the hands-on stuff with flying colors (things were kind of a 'duh' in general) and barely passed the written with a 74% or something thereabouts.  Either way, I passed.  So to complete this certification, all I needed was to do a 30 hour internship at a gym.  Yeah, that's nothing.

I did what I needed to do, sent in the forms a few weeks before I moved to Chicago, and then today I received a large yellow envelope in the mail.   I brought it to my room, ripped it open, looked through all the papers about continuing education, business certification courses and whatnot, and finally at the bottom of the pile was my certificate.  

Pretty cool.  Except I just looked it over and it's good for two years from the completion of my course.  Which was June 9, 2012.  So it's good for less than a year now.  Great.  $650 later...

Will I use it?  We'll see.  Will I continue my efforts in becoming more certified with perhaps a more well-rounded program?  If I get into the personal training business this year, then yeah, probably.  Maybe an employer will help me get on track with a more valid certification.  I've been told that these W.I.T.S certifications aren't the most widely accepted.  

Maybe I'll do a personal personal training gig.  Like, through Craigslist or something.  I'm more interested in motivating those who want a lifestyle change when it comes to their diet, getting healthy, and losing weight.  Those TV shows where people are motivated and put in the effort into changing themselves to look better and potentially living much longer have always flirted among my interests.  I'm not so much about helping people bulk up, because let's face it... I need help with that myself.

Chicagotube

Nothing special.  A video I made in the past week with a bunch of outdated information that y'all already know about.

Enjoy!

The Good Stuff

Call this premature and I'll knock on wood or whatever, but I'm kind of in love with this job I've taken at the wine and whiskey bar.  That reminds me... I need to call this sushi place and tell them I can't come in tonight... or ever.  Its been a week since I last worked there and I've known for a couple days now that I didn't want to go back in, but I've been kind of lazy when it comes to calling them and telling them I don't want anything more to do with them.  I can't muster up feeling bad about it either since I gave them 5 hours of my life for no pay, so screw it.  I'll call them eventually.  Or maybe go in and try the sushi (I hear it's some of the best in Chicago) and then let them know.  We'll see.  I have all day.

Anyway!  About this new job.  I went in for my first day on Monday.  It was a very slow day which was perfect.  I got to understand the nuances discerning the work on a bar on a boat, which was my previous job, and working at an actual land based bar.  One of my favorite differences so far is the fact that at a real bar, all the liquor stays in its place permanently, unless you want to clean the shelves or rearrange some things.  Back on the boats, you had to bring out a good 40something or so bottles of liquor every day from some different part of the boat, and then put them back at the end of the night.  Such a pain.

That's a very small thing though.  This position is rather glorious I must say.  This place sells quite high end spirits and wine.  I've had very limited exposure to the good stuff, so on my first day the owner of the place and I got to work on changing that.

-- Have you ever noticed that there is a word missing from the English language?  I'm not talking about from the outside perspective where something doesn't translate properly.  I'm talking about when you start talking then realize there is a word missing from your vocabulary that you're certain if it existed, you would know that word.  Here's an analogy.

hunger:fed::thirst:______

Fill in the blank.  You can't!  If you're hungry, I will bring you food and I have fed you.  If you're thirsty, I will bring you water and I have ______ you.  What have I done to you??  Let's call this word sponged for now. --

He sponged me.  Oh, he sponged me all right.  He sponged me right and good.  He sponged me with some of the best shit they carry.  I was shown to appreciate the different characteristics amongst several different scotches, as well as an assortment of American whiskeys.   I tried at least 10 different types of wine, and even practiced making a few of their signature beverages... and drank them in their entirety.  How I did not leave drunk is beyond me.  Perhaps buzzed in the first hour of my shift, but I honestly left feeling just fine.  Probably because of all of the Andersonville Midsommarfest drinking I had been exposed to in the previous 2 days.

It was pretty amazing!  I learned a lot and made a decent share of income considering how few people actually came in that evening.  But that happens when you're serving the good stuff, I suppose.


The next day I was open to a plethora of new experiences as well.  One of those was champagne tasting.  Now, I'm no novice to tasting wine.  I'm from Washington state, land of the largest amount of wineries and acres of grapes outside of California in the United States.  Now, am I a pro?  Definitely not?  Am I good?  That's for sure arguable.  But I get it.  I know the process, I know what to look for, I know what I think.  And of course when doing all this in front of people who have been doing it as a living for a number of years, I shut down and keep my opinions to myself and know not what to say when asked my opinions.  Naturally.

Champagne tasting... now this is a completely different element.  This isn't a very common practice, especially among people in my skill set.  Champagne is expensive and it doesn't last long after its open.
My second day at the bar, the wine/spirits rep to whom I was introduced and thusly got me the job at the place stopped in with a handsome French man representing Champagne Lanson.  We popped some bottles, tasted, I for the most part was ignored (which I thanked the high heavens for... I definitely didn't want to be asked my opinions on my first champagne tasting.  "Umm, good?  Uhh... there's bubbles!")  I was included every once in a while whenever a word was brought up that they thought I might not know.  Yes, I was talked down to a lot, but that's to be expected.  I was not going to tell these people, "Blargh, I've been tasting wine for years in Washington!  Of course I know what that is!"  It was a bit trying, but I remained quiet and open to whatever they wanted to teach me.  If I knew the word, then I learned it a second time.  Being cocky and too confident is not going to get me far in this job and if I ignore any helpful suggestions on vocabulary, then I could be missing out on a lot of the wine world that I actually don't know about.  Pro-tip from Angel!  Don't be a dick!

The rest of the day was good.  Waited on a couple tables, nothing too difficult.  It's wine and whiskey, occasionally some cheese, and even less commonly a cocktail.

There are times at this place I definitely feel out of my element.  The first day not so much.  The owner is this magnificent beam of light who has an incredible amount of faith in his employees, which is something you don't come across too often.  My second day was very informational and I worked with who I am going to say is something of their 2nd-in-command guy there.  Handsome, charming, intelligent, has an opera-singing girlfriend who looks like Anna Chlumpsky from My Girl if she grew up to be more thin and more beautiful than she currently is.  But there was a lot of "you probably have never heard of these types of grapes," and "I'll teach you that word later," which sort of knocked me down a few pegs.  But that's what the military does, right?  Degradation until they can build you to their own brand of perfection?

Maybe I'm the grapes.  Grapes are fine as they are.  Sweet, smooth, enjoy on occasion but not every day.  But you break down the grapes.  You take from them what you want, expose them to a bunch of processes they otherwise would never have been exposed, and after a period of time you come out with a product so special and so rare, you can then put your label on it and call it the taste that represents you.

Don't Say No to AIDS

This past weekend was the Andersonville Midsommarfest.  Midsommarfest is an event celebrating the businesses of the Andersonville neighborhood, and their underlying appreciation of the Swedish culture.

For this event, I met up with the Chicago AIDS Foundation for the first time to be a volunteer.  Do my part, help spread the word on HIV and AIDS.  Have something to do.  I met up with this girl who was organizing the whole thing, Adrienne, and she kind of gave me the down low on what's going on.  We had flyers to pass out to bring awareness to the AIDS Run and Walk.  Sounds easy enough.

Side note: Adrienne and I both talked about our uncertainty about getting to the street festival as it was our first time there.  We're both new to Chicago!  Oh, not only that, Adrienne is from Seattle!  Well, Kent, but hey.  Same area.  Even though it's still Kent.  

More people showed up for this AIDS Volunteer thing.  At first I thought maybe we would have a booth, pass out some free shit, mingle with the locals, etc. etc.  No, we were passing out flyers.  So off we broke up to individuals to do our assignment after I got as much info as I could handle about this AIDS Run and Walk thing and started passing out these flyers.

It kind of sucked.  A couple people wanted them, but that was after I had to actually go up to people and blurt out the mouthful, "AIDS Run and Walk?" or whatever way I happened to be saying it.  It felt more wordy at the time.

Then came the rejection.  A lot of people weren't interested.  I'm sure a ton of people took flyers because saying no to anything promoting the fight of AIDS makes you look like a dick.  It just does.

Eventually I ran into Adrienne and this other girl helping organize this thing, and apparently in the time since I lef them, they had accomplished the beginning of a search for a street vendor cord dog.  So I joined them.  I was tired of being rejected after going through all the trouble of going up and talking to complete strangers.  I just don't do that.

The whole AIDS thing lasted 2 hours and then we were let go.  I can say I saw it through to the end even though a lot of us really didn't do anything.  In fact, I excused myself for a good 45 minutes after I "wowed" everyone with my camera and realized I left my SD card at home and had to go all the way to Walgreens to buy another one.  Everyone was completely understanding.

Too many dogs to take pictures of!

After the whole AIDS thing was over, I got drunk.  I met up with someone who I had hung out with before, and I got to meet a lot of his friends.  We ended up at a little house party very nearby.  A gay house party in my 2nd weekend in Chicago.  Not bad!

Everyone was really nice, met a lot of great people who had lots of tips about Chicago and the job scene and the gay scene, and even some plastic surgery stories which were pretty interesting to say the least.

We returned to the festival to what an ABBA cover band perform which was pretty fun, and I later excused myself so I could go home and get some rest.

Gays out in full force in Andersonville

The next day was Andersonville Midsommarfest AIDS volunteering part II.  I called in.  Yesterday had been so pointless, and I was also pretty much dead from alcohol and sun exposure so I ended up sleeping most of the day.  Well deserved, I'd say, as I have been a busy bee since before I landed in this city and I need a nice Sunday full of R&R.

I ended up back at Midsommarfest in the evening so I could join a couple people to watch this local cover band called Rock Candy perform.  They were lots of fun.  Check them out!

Then the next day I had my first day of work at this new wine and whiskey bar.  That will be an entry of it's own.  How did it go?  Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see!

1 Week in Chicago

Found this little guy outside my apartment today

Have no fear!  A legit job is here!

So through my newly discovered talent of networking, I showed up to meet this guy I've chatted with at this wine and whiskey bar here in Chicago, in the gay neighborhood of Boystown.  He told me to bring a resume, as he is good friends with the owner and is one of their wine and spirits distributors.

I showed up, they asked if I was drinking anything and they offered me an Old Fashioned, so I took it.  The owner had no idea I was there for an interview, but when the guy I was meeting asked me for my resume, the owner took notice and wanted a peek as well.  He then caught on that his friend was trying to get my a job.

The owner took me aside, told me to grab my Old Fashioned, and we began to discuss my credentials.  It was very Mad Men.

After some small talk and some questions you're not really supposed to ask at an interview, he told me he would like to give me a try.  I start Monday.

I have Wednesday off and I am scheduled to go into the sushi place, but I think how it's going to work is I am going to go in, ask if I earned any money when I worked last Wednesday, and if they say no because I'm a trainee, I am going to leave and not look back.

If they say I did make money... well, I'll take the cash and probably still leave because that's the day I think I am having a Seattle from come visit me so we can hit the town.

Things are developing quite nicely, wouldn't you say?  Not bad for being here a week.

Personality Pay

This sushi place... yeah.

I went in the other day for my first shift.  Right away training began.  Skip the tax forms, skip the background check, skip it all!  Because we're not paying you!  The customers are!

This is a nice place.  Clean, expensive, BYOB (which is a whole 'nother thing I won't even get into.  I've never heard of bring your own booze to a bar... other than bringing wine for a $15 corkage fee or whatever.)  So when I started getting a little more comfortable around the people who were training me, I asked, "So, I'm not from here, but whenever I've started a job, we've had to fill out tax forms and direct deposit slips and all that stuff..." and the girl basically said something to the effect of, "yeah, we're supposed to but we don't."
We don't get an hourly wage.  We just make tips.  Except trainees don't make tips.  They make nothing.  And training is 2 weeks.

Fuck. That.

I am not here in the hopes that one day I might be a skilled enough sushi server so I can live on the hopes that my tables are treating me well enough to make a decent living.  My next shift isn't until Wednesday, so I am going to go in and ask, "So do I get paid at all for the shift I worked last week?" If they hand me a wad of cash, cool.  I can deal with whatever little they pay me just until I find something better.  If the answer is "No, you're a trainee," then I'll be heading out the door.

Hopefully I find something before then so I can skip it altogether.  Well, I won't do that of course since there is a chance there's money waiting there for me, and I did give them 5 hours of my life, so...

I went to an interview yesterday.  It was at this fun, hip restaurant/bar and the way I was dressed was not so fun or hip.  I wore a suit.  Everyone else applying wore jeans and a polo.  My disposition was as stern and serious as always.  I was told straight up that they hire people based on their personality.

Fuck.  My personality sucks!  When I first meet someone that is.  And this guy just so happened to be very good looking so that didn't help me at all.  I was nervous.  Luckily, he was not only attractive, but a very nice guy.  At this interview, I was given a homework assignment.

I'm new to Chicago, so there are a whole bunch of places I've never been to.  This establishment is one of those places.  Since I haven't had the chance to get to know the city that well, this handsome man was kind enough to extend me an offer: Come back in on Friday or Saturday night and get to know the vibe.  Chat with the bartenders.  Mingle with the people.  Then I am to email him after that and tell him if I think I am a good fit for the restaurant.

Umm, duh. I'M PERFECT.  I want the job!

So I'll go in tonight by myself, check it out, loosen up, have a merry ole' time, and then I will email the guy and tell him how much fun I had and how I'm going to be a great fit and how this place seems perfect for me, and how perfect I am for the place!

And then I will have my first shift and I will be stiff and nervous and hopefully I'll be able to loosen up a bit before they fire me.

And I feel like you might not want to read this block of text without pictures, so here's my roommate's cat helping himself to my glass of water.

I Have Arrived

About the title... yes, I've been in Chicago for 4 days now, but it's taken me a while to actually get used to the idea that this is now my home.  It probably still hasn't fully sunken in since I don't have various expansive circles of friends or anything, but I've made advances to make myself more and more a citizen of this midwest metropolis.

I've changed my address on a lot of my online accounts... though not all.  I need to get on that.  Though I'm hoping if any of these business responsible for my phone or finances needed to get a hold of me, they'd find a more immediate way than through the postal service.  So I'm mostly missing out on ads and stuff (I would hope, since some of those have addresses two or even three residences ago.)

Today in the mail, I got a tiny piece of treasure that carries quite a hefty pricetag.

Within that envelope is a credit card-sized RFID-containing piece of plastic that will allow me on an unlimited amount of busses or el trains throughout the city of Chicago, the Chicago Card... at only $100 a month.  I wouldn't pay that much in Seattle, but 

a.) Seattle doesn't have trains... well, we're getting there, but far too late and none that concern me.

b.) In Chicago, there are no bus transfers, so I was paying upwards to $12 to $15 a day going around and about the city.

I still have a $20 3-day pass to get me on transportation that I bought yesterday, and may have gotten its worth for... however I don't think it matters if I start using my Chicago Card now or in 2 more days because they'll be charging me for another month on the 27th.  Oh well.  Moving and learning about your new surroundings is known to be rather expensive.

Another big change came a day or so ago when I decided to take the plunge and let the world know I was telling Chicago, "I have arrived!"

That's right.  It's now Facebook Official.  My friends and strangers alike can access my Facebook, see that even though I am a "Seattle Boy," I now am in Chicago.

These Happy Days Are Yours And Mine

Yesterday I felt obligated to blog about something, but if I had, then it was going to be a piece about the culture shock of coming from a place where plastic bags and styrofoam are banned, you must recycle by law, and everyone wears a helmet, to a place where all of those things are the opposite.   It would have been boring and uninspired, so I'm glad I decided to hang out with new friends instead.

Yes, I've made a friend!  How about that.  Everyone was right... my bright, shining personality of puppies and rainbows really shone through to attract the attention of a brand new beginning of a social life here in the Windy City.

This morning, he and I went downtown to go shopping.  What I found funny was this was the first time I had been near the iconic buildings of downtown Chicago since I moved here.  I went to them all when I was here back in April.

2nd and 3rd tallest buildings in the citty, as seen from the tallest.

While downtown, my goal was to find something totally awesome to wear to a job interview that I got from the guy I'm staying with.  His best friend owns a sushi restaurant, so he told me to go in at 4:30 today for an interview.  I got the clothes I need, put them on, and realized... this outfit need a tie.  Luckily, I had bought a tie earlier while downtown.  Not for this outfit, but it would have to do as somehow my ties didn't make it from Seattle to Chicago, which I was just this morning realizing.

It all clashed.  Black jacket, gray vest, white shirt, with a spray pattern of navy blue on the collar.   And the tie was pink.  It was for cancer!  And it was $10, about $50 cheaper than any other tie at Macy's.

But I made it work.  Unfortunately, I did not have such an interview outfit when I had to go to my interview the day after I flew in, which was at a gay restaurant here in town where men in drag dance around in some sort of burlesque show or something.  Haven't seen it myself, but I went in for a short, 3 minute interview where it felt like they weren't expecting me, was asked, "Do you know what kind of establishment this is?" as if they thought I was straight.  ME!  So my hopes aren't high for that place, but they told me I would definitely be getting a call, which I hope I do and I hope it's a yes because that place sounds fucking awesome.

So on my way I went to this sushi restaurant.  I met with the owner, Mike, and this other girl who works there, both of whom asked me about my age which I don't think is legal, and discussed with me when to set up my first shift.

That was easy.  What'd I get all dressed up mismatched for?

That was good news.  A stable job.  Not sure about the bartending job I was promised when I showed up to Chicago.  That guy is still out of town.  But in case that doesn't work out, for now I at least am going to be serving sushi.  And hopefully making drinks at a drag bar too.  I'll keep you posted.

After the good news, I decided I was going to treat myself to a ginger ale!  I deserved it.  I got a job by showing up.  So off I went to Walgreens to seek out a ginger ale.  I saw one at a Caribou Coffee yesterday that was unfiltered, so the liquid looked clear yet there was a cloudy mess on the bottom of the bottle.  I was very curious, but I had just ordered a tall skinny vanilla latté so it would have to wait.

When I walked into Walgreens, a hispanic man in a red shirt asked me if I had time for an HIV screening.  Funny you should ask.  My new friend invited me to go with him and his roommate to go HIV screening with them.  I declined.  Felt that was kind of a private thing.  Private, yet necessary.  I haven't been screen since before my 2 year relationship which ended back in December, so it was high time I go and do something about that.  Usually my first reaction when propositioned to take part in anything that was not in my initial plans is a "no" if they're lucky enough to get any sort of response, but this was something I really should do.  So I did it.

The first thing that crossed my mind is whether or not Walgreens knew these men were in their store pricking people with needles and taking their blood, and if this was legit.  When I was taken back by the pharmacy and into a room that was part of the permanent building, those doubts went away and I was open to all sorts of questions about how big of a gay slut I have been in the past.

The man assessing me chimed in that he was also a Puerto Rican (by the way, readers, I'm part Puerto Rican) and was definitely hitting on me.  I'm usually very aloof to this kind of behavior deviated towards me, so this guy must have been at it hard.  Hispanics usually are.  We're a very sexual people.  I mean, he told me this was going to be a finger blood draw and then he told me to pull down my pants and followed it by a bunch of sexual innuendos.  Along I went with it... I mean, I didn't actually pull down my pants, but I laughed and let it go on, and then he told me I was very serious.  He told me to pull down my pants and was about to stab me with a needle.  How was I supposed to be acting?

So he used his little tool to prick me (hehe), and I didn't feel it at all.  It was pretty awesome.  I had the face that was awaiting the pains of childbirth but it came to be unwarranted, and then turned into the face of someone who is experiencing the relief of just having given birth... or something to that effect.

He swirled my blood into a little vial, dropped it into some sort of tiny bowl, dropped vial #2 into a tiny bowl, and dropped vial #3 into a tiny bowl.  The bottom of the bowl ended up showing 1 very clear dot.  Congratulations, I'm not pregnant!  Nor do I have HIV.  The test wouldn't determine if I was pregnant or not, but I'm pretty sure that's the case, but it said I more than likely did not contract HIV three or more months ago.

After he found out I was clean, that's when we got into the heavy petting and he showed me that magic that two Puerto Rican men can have together.  Just kidding.  That didn't happen.  But he did ask me if I wanted to volunteer for the Chicago Foundation of AIDS something-or-another.  

Initial reaction: No.  Still thirsty for ginger ale.  This is not the course on which I was heading.

But I said yes, I would.  I mean, the way I answered it probably make me sound like kind of a douche.  "Sure, I just moved here so it's not like I have anything else going on."

So he should be contacting me to possibly volunteer for this Market Days I've been hearing so much about and for gay pride.  Volunteering will be a great way to meet people and become part of something great.  Oh, and I guess part of it will be preventing the spread of HIV or whatever.

There we go!  A day of shopping and really good news.  It's sunny outside right now so I am going to head on out on my very first run here in Chicago.  Oh the places I'll go.