So I think I am an artsy girl.
I read, I write, I draw, I finger paint, I wear stuff from thrift stores.
What artsy life would be complete without at least one random road trip to nowhere? So next Friday, I will fulfill my artsy destiny, hop into an increasingly shrinking Miata and make an epic drive through Indiana, Kentucky, Virginia, and North Carolina as I scribble in my little black writing journal about a hopefully sunny and warm drive through the mountains. I have visions of me, with my awesome teal suede jacket, my fantastic sunglasses with artsy metal work on the side that I got for $2 at the popcorn fest (best find ever!), and my freshly curled hair whipping around in the breeze as I enjoy a windy drive through the mountains, the sun warming the top of black hair. Kind of like Easy Rider but with out the motorcycles or the LSD or Jack Nicholson or the tragic ending.
Too bad it is February and the only thing warm in February is the inside of a heated house.
And since I am hoping that mother nature isn't a total bitch, we are camping most of the way as well.
But perhaps the most thrilling aspect of the trip is that we really do not have a destination; we are driving for the sake of driving. I am thrilled to yet again be surrounded by mountains, heaping and on edge, as if their peaks will tip right into our car. I miss the trees and the smells of the mountains that I was submerged in most of this summer when I spent a month in Oregon. I miss looking up in the sky and seeing every single star that is visible. This road trip will be partly to get all of that back and partly to see if I am capable of being on the road, since I hope to go on a few of these for my writing.
And so I will depart on my Jack Kerouac, Merry Pranksters-esq road trip but with less drugs and fewer prostitutes.
Be prepared for an epic post once I return...
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
A lettter to the lake effect
I go to school in Northwest Indiana and live in Chicago. I always thought that I was acquainted with the awfulness of Midwest weather. But I was young, naive, and unaware of the lake effect. After being buried under almost three feet of snow, it is now in the forties and was in the fifties yesterday. But I will not get my hopes up.
Dear Lake Effect,
Northwest Indiana is a place of corn, corn, and more corn. There really is not much here that is thrilling or a draw. In fact, Northwest Indiana is really good and bringing people to the realiztaion that the Midwest sucks. But it does have one good quality- the beach. Not only is it naturally beautiful, the rolling blue waves on the clean sand look even better after a horrible terrible winter and after driving a few minutes through cornfields. So how am I supposed to feel when I discover that my beloved lake Michigan- the very body of water that brings me summer time joy- brings me the coldest, most shivery, winter time woes? Not only do I receive the menopausal weather that the Midwest brings, we here in Northwest Indiana get it tenfold. How am I supposed to pretend to enjoy negative forty wind chills, weather so icy that each twig on a bush or branch on a tree is encased in ice, or snow that goes up to my knees and then freezes over the next day? Even better, is that I have to walk to class in this fantastic display of what the Midwest has to offer. The most terrible part of it all is the beautiful weather that is sitting pretty outside my window. It is stunning by all means: sunny, warm, a slight spring wind. Everything that we, the Northwest Indiana residents, look forward to. But I know it is just a tease. A taste of what is to come. But it will not come soon. It will take you, my darling Lake Effect, about two more months to stop being a pain. It is nice now, maybe you are tired or wanted a warm break as well. But I am well aware of your games. So I have a proposal to present you. You love to make people miserable. You love to crush their warm weather hopes. And you are very, very good at this. So why don't you go down to Florida for a little bit, about two years are so, and I will stop cursing you to hell. Sound like a plan?
Don't forget your sunscreen,
Lilia
Dear Lake Effect,
Northwest Indiana is a place of corn, corn, and more corn. There really is not much here that is thrilling or a draw. In fact, Northwest Indiana is really good and bringing people to the realiztaion that the Midwest sucks. But it does have one good quality- the beach. Not only is it naturally beautiful, the rolling blue waves on the clean sand look even better after a horrible terrible winter and after driving a few minutes through cornfields. So how am I supposed to feel when I discover that my beloved lake Michigan- the very body of water that brings me summer time joy- brings me the coldest, most shivery, winter time woes? Not only do I receive the menopausal weather that the Midwest brings, we here in Northwest Indiana get it tenfold. How am I supposed to pretend to enjoy negative forty wind chills, weather so icy that each twig on a bush or branch on a tree is encased in ice, or snow that goes up to my knees and then freezes over the next day? Even better, is that I have to walk to class in this fantastic display of what the Midwest has to offer. The most terrible part of it all is the beautiful weather that is sitting pretty outside my window. It is stunning by all means: sunny, warm, a slight spring wind. Everything that we, the Northwest Indiana residents, look forward to. But I know it is just a tease. A taste of what is to come. But it will not come soon. It will take you, my darling Lake Effect, about two more months to stop being a pain. It is nice now, maybe you are tired or wanted a warm break as well. But I am well aware of your games. So I have a proposal to present you. You love to make people miserable. You love to crush their warm weather hopes. And you are very, very good at this. So why don't you go down to Florida for a little bit, about two years are so, and I will stop cursing you to hell. Sound like a plan?
Don't forget your sunscreen,
Lilia
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