My own Chicago Landmark Project: 12 Short Stays in 12 Chicago Locations


Jun 1: Lincoln Park 1BR, 2015 Clifton Ave, futon
Jun 2: North Central 2BR, 4224 Leavitt St, couch
Jun 3: Hyde Park 5BR, 5487 Hyde Park Blvd, board
Jun 4: Lakeview studio, 560 Diversey Pkwy, bed
Jun 5: Lincoln Park 1BR, 531 Deming Pl, couch
Jun 6: Avondale 4BR, 3754 School St, futon
Jun 7: Ravenswood 2BR, 1601 Berteau Ave, bed
Jun 8: Edgewater 1BR, 6029 Winthrop Ave, bed
Jun 9: Rogers Park 2BR, 7609 Eastlake Terr, air mattress
Jun 10: Lakeview 2BR, 1410 Henderson St, futon
Jun 11: Albany Park 2BR, 4240 Whipple St, couch
Jun 12: Ravenswood 2BR, 2736 Leland Ave, couch

“There ain’t gonna be no more begging and pleading…”

Praying it holds up better than the stitching on pants’ knee.
“…Falling in love is so hard on the knees…”

“There’s no way I’m turning back…”

Too much light is blinding.

“…Sticks and stones may break my bones / But whips and chains excite me…”

The umbrella costs the same regardless the weather.

“Murder for Two” plays with negative space, an accompaniment piece.

Sorry for waking you up, but I need someone to reassure me I don’t have Lyme Disease.
I get that all the time. It’s in your head.

Okcupid has too many boxes which I don’t fit into.

Will work for futon, or so I’ve heard.

Like herding cats.

Frustrd.


Don’t feel frustrd. Makes me concerned that you’re becoming a condiment.

Working from home, except not.

“Don’t go chasing waterfalls…”

Everything coming down.
Everyone comes down.

“…I think you're moving too fast…”

“Jump around / Jump around…”

The fledging unhopping on the street, thrust from nest too soon, vulnerable, lifted from below, and patiently aided to flutter off to the cobblestone side.

A butterfly flaps its wings and in STL people are happy.

For the first time in my life, I was embarrassed to be associated by my religion, to the point of wishing disassociation, lest I be labeled as I wasn’t. But rather than a futile gesture of passive non-association that relegates the extremes to speak for the entirety, let me speak out with satire.

An SI win, and thereby I am funnier than a double-Pulitzer prize winning humor columnist.

Spiral staircases, 4 bedrooms, wet bar, in-unit laundry, balcony porch:
Too big to fail.

“Can you help me unravel my latest mistake / I don’t love him / Winter just wasn’t my season…”

F:
+Rooftop porch
-El Proximity

“…We walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes / Like they have any right at all…”

M:
+Fireplace
-Character

“…Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while / But, my God, it's so beautiful…”

K:
+Lofty ambitions
-Leaky ceiling

“…'Cause you can't jump the track…”

I think I’m in love.

“…Breathe…”

We heard you like pushing shopping carts, so we put a shopping cart in your shopping cart, so you can push a shopping cart while you push your shopping cart down Barry.

You know what’s funny?
Cellos.
True. You know what else’s funny?
Reading about cellos? Sorry. What is it?
Gone now.

Free Cello, worth every penny.

“Oh you know how it is, wake up feeling…”

Sorry for not being here: rapture.

“…All you want to do is nothing on a day like today / But if you do that you'll be missing the world…”

It’s over now; I’ll show up soon.

“…Get up, get out, and get gone…”