Those longings....

So I awake...or stay awake rather. My sleep schedule has been flailing trying to find something to grab hold of, to no avail. After having a dental meltdown (spare details but it involves a frantic call to my mother whilst in the Jackson El stop, an emergency dental appointment, and a very scary tool called the "CAV-A-TRON!"). After working this summer (learning the value of a dollar(I am bitter now too) and realizing that without my mothers employer provided health insurance credit card I would be a wanted man, I have begun to long for the time when you could ask for 5 dollars to get lunch and that would get you lunch, dessert, and pop. The time when you were taken care of. When you didn't have to worry about bills? And after a night of late night blog posts from someone very close to my heart, they have sparked another desire in me. The desire for "THAT" time. The time when woman wanted to look like Jackie Kennedy. When they actually cared what they wore when they went into public. But women like that are a dying breed. Now girls go to class wearing a pair of Uggs, sweatpants, and a northface jacket, and feel that is acceptable attire for almost any occasion. And I find myself, for lack of a better word, disgusted. I digress though. So this longing has been awakened within. I want to go back to the time when Michigan Avenue represented something. When it stood for class, and sophistication, not your leased luxury SUV, your multi-million dollar MacMansion in the burbs, or (dare I say it) your brownstone in Lincoln Park. (I realize that in my most recent post I confessed to wanting this life, but one must understand there are those that possess class (hoping myself) and then there are those that do not. Who shop on Michigan Avenue just to say "Oh yes! I bought that at Burberry on Michigan.") One final thought, because I feel a rant a-comin'! I long for the single family homes of Chicago. They too are a dying breed. Where those children's foot prints on the wood floor tell volumes about the history of that home. But now the only thing on the floor is beer from last nights party. And that once beautiful home has been butchered into 6 identical apartments and possibly a depressing garden unit. What happened to history? What happened to decency? And what happened to class?

Back home...at least that's what I call it.

At last, I have returned to the blogosphere to "enlighten" my 2 followers, and several other people who might blog browse now and then. I have returned to the city of steel, lights, and the city that enchants and haunts. While I was home during the summer, I would look forward to sleep. Every time that I lay in my bed, Chicago would reach me 800 miles away, and remind me of why I return to this place of ungodly cold, of homeless men invading my personal space. It is because this city that I recognize as my true home has truly stolen my heart. Chicago is one of the few women that I will ever love.

I will not bore my reader(s) about the tedium of Dallas. However, I will say that this tedium was punctuated with friendships that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

But now that school has started I love knowing where I am going. Physically. Mentally, I haven't the foggiest. I woke up five minutes late for class, and whilst putting on a pair of heinous shorts I had flashes of me working at Dominic's until the day I die. And no one wants that.

With that thought I have come to a realization. Also with the help of some late night Lady Gaga therapy, that I want to become one of those men that works till they get married. I want to be like the yuppie woman who work at their jobs until they find their mister right. They buy their MacMansion (mine will be a brownstone here in Lincoln Park or similar) and have my children. With that thought comes the thought that I am a terrible person, but at the same time, I am admitting it, while others just deny it. I have my life goals set and I aim for those goals. On that note, I bid you all good day, morning, or night. And thanks for reading!

Love, Rev RJH

P.S. Chicago, one of your children has come home. And is never leaving your embrace again.

Whoa...Its been a while

Yes, I have neglected this blog for a while. But don't worry. My haitus will soon be over. I shall resume posting once I am back with my beautiful girl. Chicago.

Light on the horizon aka June 12th

The cycle begins again!

Hello all!  I haven't written in a while, and there is much to talk about.  Not to give it all away, but this list will help keep me on track, because if you have read any of my past posts you will know that I digress that it's no ones business.

1.  I am 19

2.  I am in the final stages of talking to someone

3.  Spring Break

4.  Class

5.  The usual college kid angst

First off, on March 18th, I officially turned 19!  I had planned on going to the Russian Tea Room, it has been a dream of mine since the last time I ate there.  And I my first three choices were unavailable, due to a variety of reasons.  But then I had the best time with someone that will remain nameless as he might read this.  And oh it was glorious, I had some of the best jasmine tea I have ever had.  And I cannot think of any better way of spending my birthday.

Following glorious Russian Tea I returned to LP, where I proceeded to sift through the 60 some notifications of wall posts on Facebook.  I then went back to State and Randolph, and the gifting began.  And while some of you might think that these are not "gifts."  The love put into these gifts is what makes them gifts.  An Iced Custom Berry Blast, a big smile, and a happy birthday was the extent of my gifting.  And I have officially decided that this was one of the best birthday's I have ever had.  Shortly after, and I will not focus on this point as parental issues are not meant for the blog-o-sphere, I did not get a happy birthday from my mother.  I am at peace with it, it's happened before...

I have decided to skip over the final stages of talking to someone point.  Only because as was mentioned before, he might read this, and lets not scare him of just yet.

As I try and collect my thoughts about this next point, all I can do is emit a contented sigh.  Spring Break was wonderous, Dallas has remained the same, however more and more bits of my childhood neighborhood are being replaced by monstrous McMansions.  And I can't help but wonder, what is it about cities that compels them to be in a continuous state of change.  After reading taking a class about Chicago's progression from a mass of smoldering rubble to the concrete and steel jungle that we see today, I realize that cities seem to hate themselves, they disregard the past and are only interested in the bigger and better.  I cannot help but pray that cities will recognize their past, and preserve it.  MAJOR DIGRESSION!  The weather was indescriably amazing.  I flew down from Chicago wearing a track jacket, and once I arrived my Texan gene kicked in, I felt like emitting a "YE HAW!"  at how great the weather was.  But me being the always fashionable Bob Hogge couldn't bring myself to do it.  Needless to say the weather was great.  And upon returning to Chicago, I had hoped that Chicago's hormones had leveled out and the weather would slightly resemble spring.  Then Chicago slaps me in the face.  It gets freezing.  In fact 3 days after returning home, it snows!  Wonderful!  School starts tomorrow, and Chicago hates me!

Class has started.  I have decided that DePaul is seriosuly medicated, because the quarter system is ineffective.  I have to buy more books, endure extra stress from three sets of midterms and finals, and to top it all off every first day of the quarter is like elementary school all over again.  You don't know anyone, and you pray to God you don't drop your lunch tray in the cafeteria.  Luckily, I have gained more confidence, or perhaps it is that I will probably never meet my classmates again after the quarter ends, I go head first into conversation, looking for the smart person so that I can leech off of them.  Manipulation...I am a terrible person.

Finally, the usual college angst.  My roommate left for California, and my room all of the sudden no longer smelled like death.  It smelled well, pleasant.  I have received my housing application for next year as I was determined to walk as little as possible in the winter.  That was until....THE OMEN.  My room selection number, I kid you not is 666.  After discovering that several of my controlled substance's that I require to function in school had gone missing I decided to check my mail, and get even.  Apparently my roommate had also intended to live on campus next year.  To my extreme and utter disbelief, his number was 91.  After throwing this discovery in the trash I decided that off campus housing seemed more appropriate, so now I just need to go through the hassle of searching for an apartment.  I cannot help but do my T. Rex arms out of stress.  

There, you are caught up.  Sorry if this one was boring.  I shall attempt to be more poetic in the future.

Love Rex RJH!

 

Indecision sucks!

So over the past few weeks I have been doing a sort of reevaluation.  And I have come to realize that, not only am I a bitch, but I have no concept of money, and I am never going to be able to make it in the real world if I do not learn the value of a dollar...OR CAN I?  So I was thinking about certain professions in which people make a lot of money-Doctors, CEO, President (or some other head of state.)  And while the latter sounded the most appealing, I fear that I would turn into some sort of like high school assistant principle and go on some sort of power trip.  Anyways, my mother and I were texting.  I find this mode communication so much more...tolerable.  Anyways, she gave me a good idea, I should be a psychiatrist.  She did some math work, because anyone who knows me knows I cannot to math to save my life!  And I am satisfied with the possible income.  And while the money that I might possibly make would suit me quite comfortably, I am faced with a terrible dilemma.

I am not normal, anyone can tell you that.  I have malignant mother issues, resentment for my sister, a fear of abandonment, an irrational fear of cockroaches, and whenever I see cute babies I think they are judging me.  And it is because of these aforementioned fears and emotional issues that I wonder, "Would I be a hypocrite for counseling people?"  For as long as I can remember, I have been the listening friend.  The friend that you can vent to, and as I sit on my bed, lightly stroking the keys of my computer, I wonder...should I capitalize on that, or destine myself for a life as a penniless journalist.  

Still freezing in my thermal undies

I realize it has been a while.  Perhaps it was all the drama, and inner conflict.  A majority of which was cause by the weather.  "Do I WANT to go to class today?  Am I willing to endure this hellish cold to get to the SAC?"  The usual answer is no, but some unknown force compels me to put on my afortmentioned thermal underwear.  And make the long block and a half treck to class.  

I digressed there.  There actually has been a lot of drama, mostly self induced.  I think that I may have said this before but it seems that right as I get a hold of my life.  A major peice of it just falls apart!  I don't know if this is how it usually is, but I know it happens to me.  Except now, the little control I had has slipped through my fingers never to be recovered.  I have a research paper, and a paper talking about Daniel Burnham's Great Chicago Plan, due on March 4th.  So most likely from this day forth I will be found chain smoking outside my dorm, frantically throwing research and other such sources around my room, and sleeping amid a mountain of papers, looking a hot mess.  

Not only do I have the daunting task of major papers on the horizons, I have been required by the head matriarch...I like that, it adds a feeling of emotional detatchment that fits her quite well.  Anyway, I have been commanded by her to send down all of the receipts to account for my slowly declining bank accounts.  (Just a side note:  I went to chicago thinking, it is almost a thousand miles away.  How will she be able to control me?!  SOMEHOW she found a way!)  I have decided to not provide said receipts as most of my purchases are "undocumentable."  I jest, but a vast amount of my money has gone towards Chicken Potstickers at Wow Bao, and Raspberry Hot Chocolate at Argo Tea.  I long to just declare independence, then my mom has to pay more taxes.  But then that means I will somehow have to procure $44k a year to pay for my education.  So I am trying to weigh the pro's and the con's and while the pro's of making my mother aware of the things that I am buying are, I would sooner dive into a mountain of broken glass, than give her the satisfaction of knowning that she still has control over me.

Now we get to the recurring theme of almost every single one of my blog posts:  the contempt, or perhaps hatred that I have for my mother.  And trust me when I say, that this hate is not unwarranted.  The rap sheet on her is unending, she put me on adderall in second grade, and from then on used it to control when I was being myself.  She gave me unending grief, even to this day, about wanting to go to my first choice school.  

However, two people have given me great advice.  Person number 1 knows all of my demons, and said that even though I don't feel love, I should recognize the sacrifices.  And I guess I do recognize them, this education will be the only thing I will sincerely thank my mother for.  And person number 2, has given me hope.  That even though right now, I have little happiness in my love, or parental love.  (I got boat loads of friend love.)  I can start anew with my children.  And I can say that without a doubt, that I will love my children unconditionally. To these two people, I would like to say thank you.  I would like to say so much more, but then it would get creepy. And no one wants that.

As I sit here on my bed looking out at Chicago.  I can see a few rogue snowflakes riding an updraft, hitting my window, before finally falling to rest on the ground.  And I can see the two spires on the top of the sears tower.  And I can say with absolute certainty that I will be seeing those for the rest of my life.

FINALLY....

Over the past 5 weeks I have felt like I have been drowning, left adrift in the sea of academia.  But last night I stayed up all night and did 10+ math homework assignments, and with the passing of midterms, I feel like I am finally back on track...somewhat.  Something that I find slightly unsettling is that I have only taken 2 midterms, and midterms week ends tomorrow.  Or rather today, DAMN me and my night owl habits!  

Recently, I have been sick.  And now that I have made an almost full recovery, I am trying to find things to kill time.  These activities used to consist of playing MarioKart for Wii, watching South Park online, and Facebooking.  But now that I am better, I feel like I have changed.  I don't want to watch South Park, or look stupid with a Wii-mote.  I want to go out and do things!  I want to stay up all night and go watch the sunrise over the lake.  Its just my luck that this zeal or hunger, or whatever it is for life, comes when the temperatures remain in the single digits.  

Also, while I was sick I forgot about friends.  And it seems like so many emotional things have occured, and I have realized, that I want a boyfriend.  My friends have significant others, and I am the fag bangle (hate the word, but I totally am a fashion accessory) that goes to parties and eventually ends up sober sitting you, and going home to my empty.  Not trying to get pity, but I have finally realized that I want someone.  Not only do I want a boyfriend, I want gay friends.  I want my group of boys (or girls, ;)) to go out with on saturdays and then get hangover brunch at Nookies or Clarke's.  And so far my plight for brunch buddies has produced Patrick, who has so much drama in his life that it could choke a whale.

My last topic, I promise.  My mother, a displaced Yankee, has decided that she wants to live in Chicago, woman is smoking crack if she wants to endure this weather!  (Don't get me wrong, the city is great.  Just give me some reasonable temperatures, possibly above freezing.   I prefer not to see a single digit on my dashboard, while I debate about wearing my thermal underwear.)  I digress, and so while I am trying to establish my identity, which as the title of this blog would indicate is being the alchoholic gay man that is so flaming he asfixiates people with his fumes, my mother tells me that she is getting her lisence (medical) and is looking at houses.  WTF?!  I came to Chicago to escape your matricarchal oppression, and all of the sudden a nice change of scenery is what you need?!  What seems even more convienient is that my mother is looking for places in GUESS WHERE, Lincoln Park, Lakeview, and Wicker Park.  All of which are RIDICULOUSLY CLOSE TO DEPAUL!  And while I support my mothers decision to focus on her own life, I would prefer that she begin this focus at a safe distance.  Prefferably 5+ hours away.  

Anyways, thats all I have to rant about for right now.  

Writing from my room, in Lincoln Park, on the north side, in Chicago, and with love, Rev RJH

Smug snow!

Hello all, it has been a while since I have posted so I thought why not update.  Well school has officiallt started.  I find it sort of comical, in a sense, that people are still at home, twiddling their thumbs away waiting to go back to school, while I am already back.  Well, I'm sure they are not twiddling their thumbs, but you know, night time antics do get boring after a while.  Anyways, they cold has hit me, and I remember saying that I could handle it.  Thermal Underwear?!  PSH!  My loins of steal can withstand any cold.  And then I step outside.  Loins of steel indeed.  It is a crippling cold.  A cold I never imagined possible.  And then to top it all off and UNGODLY windchill.  Yes I am officially in hell.  However, today it is a balmy 18 degrees.  Yippee!  At least the sun is shining, it makes the snow go away, so it isn't so much like communist Russia when I walk to class.  On a side note, I pity the people at UIC.  If I went there the Dan Ryan (or whatever major highway that is) would have called me a long time ago.  Their campus is so, UGH!  

I continually digress jeez, ANYWAYS, until today, I was sort of feeling adrift, I think it is because I have taken my medicine.  And while it usually makes me feel terrible, it seems like today is a good day.  Usually I want to hurl myself on sporks, or inflict some sort of pain (nothing too drastic, thus the spork)  so I can feel something.  Its like in Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, "When everything feels like the movies, you bleed just to know you're alive"  And right now, I feel alive, which is quite a change.  OMG!  Digressions-R-Us, continuing, all of my friends are back at school which is nice, I got the oldies, and the newies.  And I got the weekly, I am worried about you, but I love you lecture via AIM, and its nice.  It shows that I have people care about me.  

I have a rant, more of a cute little observation.  I find that mothers like me.  I think it is because I am sexually non-threatening.  I officially have two mothers that would take me in off the streets if I needed it.  Neither of which need to, but you know, its good to know.  Just wanted to say thank you, to both the children, and the mother, for loving.

Love Rev RJH

New Beginings

Ah new years.  New beginnings.

Sorry about that last post.  I was in a funk, but I am no longer in said funk.  So I thought I would update everyone!  I am back in the city of bright lights, of great fires, and even greater friends.  And that is all I wanted to say!