Searching for the Moon

Shannon Clark's rambles and conversations on food, geeks, San Francisco and occasionally economics

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Posted by shannonclark on September 7, 2002

I’m having a strange day, said I to the waitress

but I am not sure why

Ever had a day that just seemed strange, but really, when you stop and think about it, was not all that odd at all. Especially if you compared it to many other days that have been far far wierder.

In fact, today would generally rank as a rather normal, not so strange at all day, but yet, when my waitress at one of my favorite haunts asked me “how has your day been” while I stood chatting with her before deciding on where to sit, I felt compelled to answer “somewhat strange”.

Though I am really not sure why.

I did not do anything particularly odd or unusual today. I slept in. Well, I woke up reasonably early for me, around 8, then turned over and went back to sleep for a few blissful extra hours.

After wasting time just lounging about in my apartment trying to decide what to do, and whether or not to stay and watch the Notre Dame football game on the TV, I finally decided to get dressed and go downstairs to get something to eat for lunch (since it was after 1:00 already)

I did this, though I did first get my mail, go back up to my condo, change my shirt, and then go downstairs.

Lunch was at a Chinese takeout a half mile from my house, perhaps a bit of a hike for Chinese takeout (especially since there are plenty nearer) but they happen to have a really tasty Shredded Beef with Garlic Sauce, and besides, exercise is good for me (though the two cokes I had at lunch probably negate that arguement).

I listened to the Notre Dame game on the radio at lunch.

Then, after lunch I walked back to my home turf and went to the Seatle’s Best in my neighborhood to sit, have some coffee, and read. I finished the New Yorker sitting there in the afternoon, and finally returned home.

Then I changed my shirt again, having spilled coffee on the shirt while sitting reading, I removed the now finished New Yorker from my briefcase, and I eventually went back outside to get some dinner.

At somepoint in all this walking about I had called a good friend who I thought might be back in town, she was, but was busy when I called, so we agreed to talk later tonight.

I walked over the Guiness and Oyster Fest, this year at North and Clyborn, instead, as in year’s past just south of my condo on Well’s Street.

The new location meant that I would infact, be charged the $10/person admittance fee, no longer able to use the excuse of “but I live here” to get in without paying as I have usually done in year’s past. So I looked in from the fence at the various food booths, smelled the spilled beer combined with various foodstuffs being grilled, looked at the workers cracking oysters by the rackfull, and walked past the hordes of young people walking in each direction – the long lines at the nearest ATM showing one sign of just how costly the fair could be. The music echoed from the surrounding buildings, creating the effect of stages seemingly inside of each building on all sides of you – very interesting, but I was glad I did not live nearby.

The shadows of the last remaining buildings of Cabrini Green loomed in the distance, the new location (at the “New City YMCA”) a reminder of just how much this small section of Chicago has changed in recent years. In fact it is a great location for a festival, a block south of an el stop, at an intersection of multiple major streets, and mostly surrounded (for the moment) by industrial buildings, though residential buildings are beginging to arise in all directions.

After my little walking excursion, just as I was about to call my friend back, she called me first – guess we think somewhat alike. We had a nice long conversation catching up, and as we talked I walked back home, still trying to decide where and what to eat. After our conversation was over, I finally decided to go to my usual haunt, and eat there.

And so, there I was, talking to my waitress friend about my day, and something about it seemed odd.

I think, perhaps, it was that I changed my shirt three times today.

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