The Chicago Me

Being as how I'm moving into the city with my fiancé in August, I have begun to think about the necessary changes that I will need to undergo to fit into the Chicago twenty-something crowd. The following describes some of those changes...

I will need to buy an Apple mac book, and regularly take it to my "local" coffee shop to sit and use their Wi-Fi (even though my apartment has perfectly good internet access) where I pay $5 for a bag of Tazo tea, and cup of hot water.

I will need to start wearing the following: Scarves, tight pants, short colorful shorts, artistic tee shirts, Ray Ban wayfarers, a canvas messenger bag, dirty unkempt hair, a five-o'clock shadow, Birkenstock sandals.

I will need to sit on the El and labor through a very thick piece of literature, while periodically glancing around to be certain that the passengers have taken note of my choice in prose. Something like Ulysses, Remembrance of Things Past or Leaves of Grass will do nicely.

I will need to eat primarily organic food, and very little meat. The more obscure the fruit or vegetable, the better. Mangosteen and Goji berries are a must. Very ethnic food is also a must. Again, the more obscure the dish, the better. I will travel incredible distances to my "spot"-some hole-in-the-wall Indian or Thai food joint where the food is no better than anywhere else near where I live, but that isn't what I will tell people. It will go more like this: "Oh man, this place on fifth has the best Phu soup in the Western Hemisphere. No one knows about it though because it is so far off the beaten path. It is only like a 35 minutes El ride, with two transfers for me, but it is totally worth it."

I will need a closet-sized high rise apartment that I will decorate with rugs, a guitar that I will not learn how to play, ewually useless tennis rackets and balls, unread books scattered everywhere,horrible "artwork" and vinyl record cover art. The bathroom and kitchen will also need to be in a constant state of disaster, as I spend too much time editing my screenplay to keep them tidy. The entire dwelling with smell always of sandalwood.

I will need to live in a building that is at least fifteen floors, and serves as a nest of other twenty-somethings with similarly furnished apartments and lifestyles. I will borrow cups of jasmine rice and whole grains from these hive-mates. We will converse about whose Indian or Thai food "spot" is superior, always arguing in circles and never visiting the other's "spot" to prove or disprove one's opinion.

I will begin to listen to awful, awful music. The music must be so underground that the musicians haven't even learned to play their instruments or form an actual band yet. If someone recognizes the lyrics to some of these shit songs that I post on my facebook status to describe my feelings on the day, I will immediately recognize them as a poser, and stop listening to the shit music as, "They were good before they went all mainstream and lost their real identity as musicians."

I will only exercise in public. Anything done to better myself that cannot be witnessed publicly will not interest me anymore. All exercise will consist of beach volleyball, rowing, jogging, etc. all of which done wearing puma cross-trainers, an ipod armband and brilliantly-colored shorts.

My bar choices will be similar to my restaurant choices, in that they will be small and unfrequented by most people. I will occasionally get "roped into" going to a wildly expensive and equally loud club where I will sip a $16 dollar Old-Fashioned and ask people if they want to read my poetry, or do drugs.

Most importantly, I will disown my former self. Entirely. I may even change my name.