A welcome back?

I haven't written on my silly little blog in ages. When I go back to read old posts, I blush a little and think how juvenile. But now, I don't have much to do. So why not write some silly little posts while I'm on my couch with my cat Mikey sitting next to me and licking himself?
Just recently, I've done some interesting traveling, graduated college, and moved in with my boyfriend and our cat. It's been a big year for me. But like every post-graduate of this era, I have a lot left to figure out.

I think I'll start this new age of posts with a meditation on the neighborhood I now live in.


In September, I made the big move to my boyfriend's apartment in a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood of Chicago.  I love it here. I like the apartment, the community, the art, the FOOD!


My dad won't step foot in my apartment because he thinks the neighborhood is too dangerous. There are gangs here unfortunately. My block has the Party People and all their emblems. But recently, the cops have cracked down and raided some places. I'm oblivious to these raids because I always end up hearing about them from my boyfriend or neighbors. I'm glad security is getting tight, but what I really want is someone to clean up the broken Modelo bottles on our front stoop. And as tough as these Party People try to be, they're just kids. Kids with guns. But kids nonetheless. They are scary, for sure. Especially the dude I see with the gang emblem below his right eye, but they stay out of our business, and I sure as hell don't go messing with theirs.

I make my neighborhood sound like the hood. But it's not. Honestly. I love that on every corner there is a small grocer, or an eloteria. My neighborhood super market is two blocks away. Chinatown, Little Italy, and Bridgeport are the next neighborhoods over. I ride my bike everywhere, but there are buses that can take me anywhere when it gets too cold. Little art galleries are marked with circular black signs, or the orange and blue PodMajersky rectangles. But there are signs of white invasion everywhere. Everyday I see fresh businesses pop up and more young white people walking down the sidewalk. Everyone knows that my neighborhood is the new hipster hotspot, and in the next 5-10 years have unaffordable housing for poor artists like me and the Mexican families I live around. The gangs will be pushed further south or west, and that is just how Chicago does things. At least we won't have the Olympics to deal with!