All I Ever Wanted - 2
21 April 2005 at 5:10 pm

James lives with his girlfriend in student housing at Columbia, an art school. We arrived around 7 or 8pm after carting our luggage three blocks from the El station. Aaron had decided to be fashionable and used the old-fashioned luggage we found on a street corner as his means of conveying his clothes. This turned out to be a mistake as vintage luggage, though stylish, is a giant pain in the ass to carry.

James and Samantha live on the 7th floor of a 22-story building. It is three blocks away from the main shopping district and really, downtown Chicago in general. It�s a good location, a safe location, and the apartment was spacious enough to fit all four of us without too much trouble. We were starving after six hours of traveling with barely a bag of Sun Chips inside of us so we went out for beer and antipasto at the local dive bar. Several dollar-hamburgers later and we were ready to head out on the town � to the Diversey Rock and Bowl! I�m not sure why we had to go there, but go we did. We neither rock nor bowled, but we did drink a pitcher of Miller (rare and for good reason: we tend to buy the quality stuff because we are snobs) and ran into some friends of his whom I didn�t care about seeing. I made the following notes in my day planner: �James has already gotten what�s coming to him� and �non-discriminatory violence.� I have no idea what I was attempting to reference. Samantha and I bitched about one of the guy�s girlfriends because she was prettier than us and then we caught a cab back.

We arrived at our temporary home drunk and exhausted � a continuing theme during the trip -- and tried to figure out sleeping arrangements: the couch was too small for the both of us, as was the twin mattress our hosts gave us. I took the mattress and Aaron took the couch and we fell asleep to End of the Century. My last thought before drifting off was how I was kind of annoyed that Aaron wasn�t being the snuggly wompons that he is at home, but he had warned me before we left that it would be a week before I heard his boyfriend voice again. I retaliated by morphing into superbitch mode.
(I'm not going for cliff-hangers here, this is just all I'm managing to get out during brief respites at work.)

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.