Snow.

This has been a brutal winter. Only in Chicago would you spend 15 minutes wrapping scarves around your body, covering every bit of skin possible while still allowing yourself room to breathe. Then you step outside and enjoy the first 20 seconds or so before your body registers the negative temps, thinking, Oh, this isn't so bad, this... this... and then your teeth begin to chatter. The mascara you shouldn't have bothered to put on begins streaming in tears down your face from your eyes, that shouldn't really be exposed to these sorts of conditions.

At least sometimes snow is pretty. Sometimes.

gobama '08

Lisa at the Obama Election Night Event, November 4, 2008, Grant Park

it's been hard to shake off this feeling of complete euphoria at the election of barack obama a little over a week ago. the day at work was such a buzz that it was hard to focus on anything. i had the jitters, bad, and i couldn't shake them. i left with three of my coworkers around 5 to eat burgers with bacon and cheese inside, and an onion brick, and down a few hard ciders while we watched the returns come in for kentucky, pennsylvania. we walked to grant park in a mob of other people, all trickling toward the same destination. we passed street vendors selling buttons, "I Was There.", and t-shirts with the profile of a man who now is recognized, everywhere. a roar of applause and screaming spread amongst the crowd when people announced that obama had taken ohio; they'd received the updates on their cell phones. we stood in line for a little under an hour near the entrance of grant park. the city was so alive. a building across the span of grant park lit up U.S.A., and against the already perfect skyline, the view didn't get much better.


once inside grant park, we had barely found a spot to stand when it came across that obama had taken virginia. virginia. it was an unbelievable excitement. we were still celebrating that fact when suddenly a news update flashed on the screen. president-elect barack obama. he had taken it. so soon, so sudden, it was his!


there were tears streaming down faces. kids were on their parents' shoulders, pumping their fists in the air. we turned and hugged each other, and others. we shook our heads and smiled. my cheeks hurt from smiling. not a few moments later, mccain's concession speech was broadcasted on the large video screen. the audience, aside from a few booes, was respectful and quiet. i think we used his moment of acknowledging defeat to absorb the fact that we had won.

several minutes passed. oldies songs streamed from the speakers and everyone continued to jump around, dance, hug, smile. so much smiling. then, a reverand took the stage and led is in a moment of prayer. he was followed by a beautiful rendition of our national anthem. and then, we were led in the pledge of allegiance. i held my hand to my heart and for one true moment, a beautiful moment, i felt pride. i will never forget listening to the echo of the crowd saying those words in unity, as you would a prayer.

the sky was clear. it must have been 65 degrees. the air was blowing gently. it was perfect. no one was crowding or pushing. then it was announced. the next president of the united states of america, barack obama. he took the stage holding hands with his daughters and wife. he looked tired, but elated. genuine. his voice sounded different live. deeper. it was hard to concentrate on his words because i felt like i was in a dream. i couldn't register the fact that he was mere yards away, speaking, at this moment. and what i heard wasn't a recording, it was his voice.



when we filed out of grant park after his speech, michigan avenue was a flood of people. groups of people were banging on trash cans, everyone was honking their car horns, people were break dancing in the middle of the street, there were chants of yes we did.

ray lamontagne video #1, for kate (& her mom).

Burn, 10.11.08

icelandic, hopelandic, chicagoic

the chicago theatre, wednesday september 24th

last night, i saw sigur ros perform at the chicago theatre. their sound takes me away. i always describe it as otherworldly, but that's cause its true. especially during the haunting final moments of untitled 8. this tour was colorful. their stage background screens were tied to cameras on the stage, and the strobe lighting was wild. also, i love a good confetti burst.

now some pictures.

me, in my seat.

the view from our seats.

opening band: parachutes, also from iceland. the lead singer of parachutes, alex, is actually jónsi's boyfriend.

opening: one of my favorite moments, Svefn-g-englar.

performing a song.

performing (another) song.

the projection screen was cool.

goobledigook, with the addition of parachutes' "drummers"

they were all so happy, drumming away.

then there was a burst of confetti!

yay, confetti!

this video captures the very last moments of the confetti falling and the end of Goobledigook:

taking a bow.

[set list, for my own record: Svefn-g-englar, Glósóli, Ný batterí, Untitled 6 (E-bow), Fljótavík, Við spilum endalaust/Með suð í eyrum, Hoppípolla/Með Blóðnasir, Inní mér syngur vitleysingur, Festival, Svo Hljótt, Heysátan, Sæglópur, Hafsól, Gobbledigook*, **Encore**, Illgresi, Untitled 8 (Popplagið)]

no love for beth cooper.

i was just about to start reading I Love You, Beth Cooper when i decided to amazon.com it and check out some reviews, which led me to the web site for the book, which ultimately led to a page that revealed the book is already a movie starring hayden panettiere. now as i read, i'll just see the cheerleader from Heroes. great.

faces in the same places.

when i took the diversey brown line train every morning, it was always hot and crowded and full of unfamiliar faces because you'd be on the train with whoever managed to squeeze under someone's arm or shimmy themselves up against someone's back or plow through however possible. now i take the belmont brown line train. because the belmont station is a hub for both red lines and brown lines, the brown line train that arrives usually unloads dozens of passengers who run quickly to the other side of the platform to hop on a red, allowing me to step into a cool train and take my favorite position - leaning against one of the glass walls, facing forward.

but that wasn't my original point. the belmont trains are cool and less crowded and full of familiar faces. i am beginning to think i am unknowingly following a precise minute-by-minute walk from my apartment to the train; crossing the street after identical turns of the crosswalk signs, traversing the steps at the same speed, and catching the same train each morning -- and so is everyone else.

some days, on the way from the train circa 5:30PM, i pass the same people on the sidewalk that i passed going the opposite direction that morning. like the girl with the cropped brown hair and the green scrubs and the pink crocs.

and almost every afternoon, just before i reach my building, i pass the guy with the too-small-for-his-already-petite-body-backpack that must contain a large bottle of ice, because i heard the crinkling sound each time he passes by.

on some days, this bothers me. i don't want to see the same people every day. i like remaining anonymous and familiarity when really there is no familiarity is kind of uncomfortable. on other days, i like that i'm sharing some common piece of my day with these strangers. i could be in any other city, on some other street, but i'm not, i'm right here. and so are they.

rain

it's been raining non-stop since friday afternoon. today, at approximately 11AM, i finally purchased an umbrella. i can't explain my reasoning.

this morning, i ate my first breakfast at melrose, which has been "just down the street" for the past year and 2 months. i had a grilled croissant sandwich, with scrambled eggs, cheese, and bacon. the waitress complimented me on my top, saying "Gray is very in now you know." I nodded my head as if i knew what she was talking about.