Bitter(sweet) Bitterness

I know that I said that I'm never drinking again, but it's -20 degrees outside with the windchill, and there's a flute of Argentinian champagne staring at me from my end table. I'm opting to ignore the fact that I had a Moet mimosa with brunch this morning.

My apartment is so unbearably hot right now that despite the below freezing temps (so cold that the mucus in your nose ices over and freezes within minutes of exposure - do you know what I'm talking about?), I am sitting here on my couch in my underwear with two windows open. And despite this I am still very close to perspiring. Sounds rather unfathomable, doesn't it?

Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors can see me when I plop down on my couch after work with my dinner, blinds up, and jettison layers of my clothing to their respected piles on my carpet until I'm sitting there borderline naked. I live in a mid-level high rise in Chicago on the 17th floor. It's high enough that I am seemingly perched on top of my own little bubble, keeping an eagle eye on the passers-by, watching the waves of Lake Michigan penetrate the layers of ice only to gently lap the sandy shore.

A few streets down from my living room windows are various other high rises (much bigger and taller than mine). The blue neon flickers of my neighbor's television sets comfort me at night. One person still hasn't taken down their Christmas lights. The twinkling white bulbs cheer me up from a world away.

I never thought I would like living alone until I discovered that for the first time I can walk around in as little or as much as I want and it doesn't matter. Other reasons why I enjoy the non-roommate life: now I can watch Terminator 2: Judgement Day without being judged, and play my newly acquired Guitar Hero II for as long as I want (I'm on track 10 on medium if you're wondering). Other than that, I miss having someone to hang out with and to just have someone there.

The weather drives me to crazy things, and Chicago has been getting a beat down these past few weeks from Mother Nature. Over the past two weeks the weather has gone from 38 to 0 in one day, snowstorms and blizzards pile on top of one another, and freezing rain has created a hardened crystalline layer on the graying sidewalks and slush-filled gutters.

It was pouring rain when I hit last Friday's evening rush back into the city. My car dodged hidden hydro-plane prone puddles spread across the lanes of traffic. This lead to me gripping the wheel at 10 and 2 and pause my (bad)American Idol-esque singing session for a second or two. Caught off guard.

The rain pounded my windshield and hood as I patiently waited at a stop light on Lake Shore Drive. The stop lights glared menancingly at me with angry eyes; the other car's tailights dripped rivers of bright blood reflected on the wet pavement. A nightmarish scene for what should be one of the most joyous days of the week. I think it's possible to be halfway between pessimism and optimisim simultaneously. To have a glaring reminder of something you already know slap you in the face.

Have you ever had a realization that someone is completely over you? As I watched the rivers run red last Friday, I thought about this. Sure, maybe I knew this already but was in some sort of denial, maybe I'm still not sure if I wanted it that way, but it's true. The truth no matter what, always hits like a ton of bricks. I'm never prepared for it. I relish feeling somewhat intrinsically tied to another person and always feel a jarring dose of reality when that gets cut.

So leave yourself intact / 'Cause I won't be coming back / In a phrase to cut these lips / I loved you

Brooding and pensive, I exited my car only to have the valet driver who is in love with me finally pop the question and ask me if I have a boyfriend. Negative was my reply. He then asked me why I didn't have one. Haven't found one suitable for the job, was my answer. He chuckled, wagged a knowing finger at me, and rather ominously proclaimed that he was going to set me up with someone. That he can't stand that I'm single. Let's see how many days it takes before he suggests that I date him.

I always wanted to be able to go somewhere, either a restaurant, bar, store, etc. and have an employee knowingly smile and me and say, "The usual I take it?". I never go anywhere regularly enough to have something like this happen. Or I move on to another place. In the meantime I'll settle for Courtney's boyfriend who manages a bar and always looks up, smiles, and doles out exactly what we ladies are craving when we visit him late night. But I'd like to have that happen someday but right now I'm one face in a city of thousands.

I saw a commercial recently that made me feel uncomfortable. I've never had a commercial strike me to my utter core before. I've never felt that a commercial persona portrayed who I am and how I feel until I saw the Ford Edge commercial.

It shows a bunch of friends riding in the car at night, some really hymnal type music is playing in the background. Front seat friends are chatting away and completely oblivious to the backseat girl, who is sitting wide-eyed looking up out of the sunroof at the stars and tops of skyscrapers as they pass by. She is removed from reality so to speak, separated, and detached from what is going on around her. Front seat friends park and exit the vehicle and call backseat girl on the car's speaker phone and ask her if she's coming with them. She was off in her own world. I don't know how to explain in words how this defines the majority of my personality but it just does.

The kindness of strangers always surprises me. On Saturday night Allison, Courtney and I were waiting in the blistering cold for a CTA bus, and suddenly I realized I didn't have exact change ($2) for the bus fare. Shrieking and scrambling in all of our purses, we frantically clamored for silver coins falling to the pavement as the bus pulled up and was ready to close its doors. Two complete strangers came up and asked me how much money I needed, and plopped 75 cents into my gloved hands, thus allowing me to get on the bus. I'm always amazed when people do things like this. Makes me so grateful.

On a completely silly and random side note, one of my best friends, Shoe (that is her nickname, real name is Alex, the explanation would take too long) who moved to L.A. last year texted me on Saturday with the following message:

"I just got invited to Paris Hilton's birthday party at Area but I don't know if I should go because I don't know the guy that well. Thoughts?"

I'm starting to think that I'm living in the wrong city.