There are certain buses in Chicago that my husband and I refer to as “theoretical buses”–sure, the CTA claims they exist; and sure, there may be signs for them along the streets; but your chances of actually catching one of those buses are slim to none. This summer, I’m taking an online course through a community college on one of those bus routes, and when I finished the on-campus midterm this morning, I decided that, rather than wait for a bus that might not exist, I would simply walk home. And I’m glad I did, because otherwise, I would have missed the Dalai Lama’s doppelganger waiting for a dentist appointment, the sad-faced woman dressed as a zombie Girl Scout, the busker playing earnest Zeppelin covers, and the open house at the Lillstreet Art Center, a place I’ve always wanted to visit and explore.
I spend my days making up stories about Batman’s birthday parties and nights trying not to study too much. I’m battling Fred Penner earworms with Sara Watkins and Jenny Lewis, rereading Kissing the Witch, and covering myself with sunblock at all times. It’s summer.
