I've come to enjoy the echo of Pink Floyd and (pre-Battle Studies) John Mayer in our shoebox apartment. The hall light on the third floor is out, but there is a skylight. Even if I can't ever find the right key after dark, I like that the coral-colored street lights get to peek through.
Show me a picture of every red line El train stop from here to downtown, and I can tell you exactly which one it is. I guess that doesn't sound so neat, but I like to think outside the box of monotony. The 30-minute ride to school every day has the potential to make me a grump because of its claustrophobia, loud and obnoxious teenagers on their cell phones, and consistently funky smells.
I still miss wide open space, harvest time in Nebraska, taking meals to the fields, Blue Hill high school football games, joking with my grandparents over a steak dinner, beating up on my little brother (who am I kidding? He'll never be little anymore)...singing everyday, getting drunk with good friends, and Pabst Blue Ribbon not being such a hipster beer. I don't think I'll ever stop missing these things.
Nonetheless, I knew that comfort would come and that my young and naive (with some additional urban maturity and navigation skills) country girl spirit of awe and wonder would come back to me, a better outlook on the challenges of the future.
The Blackhawks have been winning, and now, out of decency and respect for the sport, I know what I'm talking about when it comes to hockey. Yes, I did some research instead of doing homework. Sue me for being a Blackhawks fan and posting related videos more often than probably need be. Come on, it's hockey season!