Disorientation.

DIARY

Things have been disorienting lately, but a different style of disorienting than I'm used to.

For starters, the whole work thing. It bounces back and forth between me googling and blogging away whilst filing, trying to remain oblivious to this sort of stagnant hostility most of the nurses, doctors, and office staff have developed towards one another. It's felt that way for awhile, but recently the conflict has been a lot more visible. And I'm still frustrated that they haven't offered me (and aren't going to) a full time position, even though I not have reservations about whether I'd even accept it.

Chicago Project No. 2 has suffered another setback. Less than two weeks from opening, one of our two actors dropped out, and the only actor remaining had only signed onto the project last February. You know what that means... we're more fragmented than the original Marilyn Manson. Anyway, we're going through with the show. Our former lighting designer, Elisabeth, has signed onto the part. We pushed back the production back two weeks. It's nice to have the extra time. Although that means summer will be starting even later than expected.

I've been very adult and responsible lately. At least compared to normal. It's a little odd. I got a bank account. I signed up for internet service at my apartment. I went to the supermarket and bought a Toilet Brush.
Last night I threw a party, mainly to motivate myself to clean. I cleaned my whole apartment, and then only one person showed up.

Here is what the invitation said:

---

Austere:

10 PM, Friday (today) May 28th
3613 S. Archer #3F
BYOB, BYSO, BYOM

Please read #9, at the end of this email.

*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+

Concise:

I am throwing a "party" tonight at 10 PM.

3613 S. Archer #3F
FROM HYDE PARK.
By car: LSD to Stevenson.  Stevenson to Damen.  Left.  Damen to Archer.  Right.
Park across the street from the CTA stop (right next to Los Comales taqueria).
By CTA: 55 W to Western.  Western N to Archer.  Walk 2 blocks east to Los
Comales.  *OR* #6 N to downtown.  Transfer to Orange Line.  To
35/Archer.  Cross street to Los Comales.
WHERE IS THE DOORBELL?  To the left of the door (3613), in a doorway alcove.
The one on top.

BYOB.  I'm poor.  See below.
BYSO.  Boyfriends, girlfriends, brothers, and sisters.  see below.
BYOM.  The beats, man, the beats.
No food.  No handouts.  Just hungry hip fun.

Please read #9, at the end of this email.

*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+*->+

Extended:

It's summer and I love my apartment situated in the barmy stockyards
neighborhood of McKinley Park.  It's getting balmy and nice with the fairer
months and its kind of sad that nobody ever sees the place but me.
That said, my lease explicitly forbids "Big Parties" so I am opting for a Mild
Get Down (MGD) instead.

Much of the relevant information is encased in the austere and concise versions
above.

Please find all other relevant rules and regulations below:

1.  Regarding BYOB.  I cannot afford to get you all lushy.  Bring tools to this
end.  EXCEPTION!  The guy (or gal) who brings a) a television and SNES/NES with
Megaman, Castlevania, Mario, or whateverelsethefuckyoucanscareup games, or b) a
CD-Rom emulator that achieves the same.  Alternately, DDR was awesome at the
scavhunt party, and, in combination with a TV and accouterments with which to
place, would be an equally worthwhile venture.  That gal (or guy) will receive
a Guinness or a Rum Coke.

2.  Regarding BYOS.  Significant Others are Welcome.  So are Sibling Others.  So
are Siamese Others.  The Other in general, however, inflicts upon me a
disassociative postmodern angst, so keep it away!  All away!  Besides, we would
risk our MGD turning into a BP and drawing the attention of the CPD down at the
NA.

3. Regarding BYOM.  I have cool music.  If you don't like it, you suck, but you
can always bring your own.  That said, this is my MGD, and I choose to ignore,
and by doing so refuse to acknowledge and play, any music written or recorded
between the years 1980 and 1989 in which the artist's name is not contained
within the phrases "Sugar Hill Gang," "Run DMC," "Jackson," "Depeche Mode," or
"the Cure."  Worry not; we will compensate by playing extensive quality from
the 70s and 90s.

4. My poor neighbor.  We must let him sleep.  I'll let you know now, I'm going
to be a bastard about the noise level, and probably scream at you to shut up
too many times.

5. In the event that the Scavvies and Judges outnumber non-Scavvies/Judges at
this MGD by a 2:1 ratio some of us will have to talk about something other than
scavhunt some of the time so that the MGD doesn't suck for those who haven't
"joined us in the big hunt" in the words of one motor city mad man.

6. No Hipsters.  No Yuppies.  Hipster Yuppies, however, are fine, though they
may be employed in our game of Pin the Tail on the Ass.  South Side Hipsters
smell funny, and should pass on my MGD in favor of swilling coffee at Huck
Finns up the street.  Hipsters disguised as Yuppies are really cool, actually,
so long as done with heart and talent.  Yuppies disguised as Hipsters are an
abomination that will be tolerated.

7. On a related note, if I see *either* one fucking pirate *or* one fucking
ninja, then dammit, I better see at least one lumberjack.  I'll give the first
lumberjack a Guinness or Rum Coke, but only if it's done with heart and talent.

8. Dan, if you haven't got anything nice to say, than don't say anything at all.

9. This is a bit risky for me.  I am sending this out ad hoc and at the last
minute in an attempt to keep attendance at a reasonable number, being too soft
hearted not to invite any relevant chums.  If my sweete studio fills past
capacity (which will happen around the time the 20th person arrives), we may
have to take drastic action, like moving our space pod to the Union Stockyard
Gate (http://www.ci.chi.il.us/Landmarks/U/UnionStock.html) and reading exerpts
from "The Annotated Jungle" while smelling the luxurient scent of lead mingled
with fermenting pork products that so permeates that neck of the woods.

All joking aside, I am a little worried about this spilling out of control if
more people show up than I expect.
We may have to be suddenly resourceful.
I ask that everyone is respectful of my neighbors, and pay attention to what's
going on.

Already concerned,

Connor
=)

The sky is falling!
http://blueskiesfalling.blogspot.com

---

In the end, the only partier (see Roger and Me for details) was Austin "the Awesome Bossman from Boston," captain of the Pierce scav hunt team. He brought an NES emulator, but we discovered that my computer was too slow to run it. I gave him a Guinness. He did me the dignity of hanging out a little before leaving. Then I went to sleep.

Also, the landscape of Chicago is changing this summer.
My last student contacts are staring to fade. The students who were 1st years when I was a 4th year will graduate now. At the same time, Elisabeth just moved to Hyde Park with her sister, Jenny. Paul might be settling down in Milwaukee. Sam and Hallie will be coming back at the end of this summer.

I feel like the Occlusion Group may be ready to plunge off in a totally new direction. Several of our projects have been reexamined, and I think the makeup of the group may be changing somewhat.

Thursday was fun.
After work I helped Elisabeth and Jenny and their parents move in. Then rehearsal, and then a scavhunt meeting, where we discussed many options for next year, some of which will be retained, some discussed and discarded, and many probably simply forgotten. We drank good Scotch. Then Jessica, Dan, Elisabeth, and myself drove to the Golden Apple in Lakeview, and Dan bought me dinner. Because he owed me.

I know there's no rhyme or reason to the chronology of this post.
That's all right; I'm disoriented.

~ Connor