Good Birthday

It all began on Saturday. Michael had been asking me for quite awhile what I would like for my birthday, but I couldn't think of anything, so I told him to take me out for coffee and be really nice to me. He said the coffee was fine, but he couldn't make any promises for niceness.

Saturday we went downtown and walked around for awhile looking for Chinese food. We didn't go to Chinatown for that because our destination was downtown. We just also happened to be hungry, and we also happened to know of a nearby Chinese restaurant that Michael likes. But it was closed. We walked around for half an hour and the only food place we could find open was McDonalds. I was just about starving since I hadn't eaten since my run that morning, so we were thinking about going into a Walgreens and buying snack food until we finally found a locally owned sub shop- with really good chicken subs, as we discovered.

Then we headed to the coffee place and I got this huge espresso mocha mint latte sort of drink that was really good and left me bouncing. They were just about to close, so Michael and I took our things to the library (our downtown destination), and sat in the lobby with our coffee and our zine articles for the editting. The security guards kept glancing our way as though looking for something we were doing wrong. So we smiled politely and continued to read and argue politics and drink coffee. That was one of our favorite pastimes once upon a time, and I hadn't realized how much I missed doing that until we were arguing just HOW MUCH we should stress the irony of Ashcroft starting his term with the intent of ending racial profiling in law enforcement, and then turning around and passing the Patriot Act which legalizes racial profiling in terrorist hunts.

I smiled contentedly.

Then we browsed the library and I got books for the theatre workshop, and I got a book recommended to me by the professor in charge of Loyola's adult literacy program. I couldn't find any of the novels I'd thought I might like to read, so, ah well. No novels for Kati.

That night, we went on a community outing to go see Super-Size Me. I had been hesitant to see the movie until I heard an interview on NPR with the guy who made it. And hearing about how he went about the film and his McDonald's only diet made me realize that maybe he wasn't just some idiotic extremist. And we were quite impressed with the show, although we all felt like we had eaten all that grease right along with him. Ew.

Sunday, I got to talk to Molly and Eric and Ian, and Ian said Happy Mother's Day to me, and made sure to mention that he wanted to go to Chicago again. Loves the museums here, apparently. Smart boy. He's doing great.

I also got to talk to Mom, but then dinner was ready early and I had to cut our conversation short. So I'll call again. Maybe tonight.

Then Daena and Eduardo and I watched Harry Potter, and there was a storm. We went outside just before it began and the sky was scorched-looking, and indeed there was the smell of... well, it smelled like burnt rain. Love it.

The weather warmed up just in time for my birthday. We've had days of warmth now, and it's just a bit humid, so it's perfect as far as I'm concerned.

Anyway, yesterday I went to work, and I got commitments out of at least four young adults that they will be at art class on Wednesday. Elena had made me a cake and I went over to Casa Romero with some of my coworkers to partake of lunch and cake. Elena gave me a glass as a present. She's one of those people who will give you what she has. They deal with a lot of donation things there, and she'll grab odds and ends that she thinks you might like and laughs with pleasure at giving them away.

I headed home. One of the guys said, "Don't drink too much." I said, "No promises there." That was a joke with us because everyone laughs at how I get all rary after one drink. Most people don't believe it though, til they see it.

So I walk into the house, and they've already started dinner, because I wasn't supposed to be home until late. I walk into the dining room and they sang Happy Birthday to me, and I tried to make a speech, but I was feeling rather uninspired, so I ate a super-tasty burrito that Michael made- instead. Daena said, "Eat up, you need a good base for your stomach when we go out later." This was news to me, so I looked up and Fabian grinned and said he was taking Tuesday off. Daena was going in late, and Michael was just going to suck it up and go out with us even though he had to work normal hours. Daena had made (and I assisted a litte) an ice cream cake, and damn was it good.

After a failed attempt at going swimming, Daena got online and started looking for a place to go. And she found an open mike up north in Lincoln Park, starting at ten at this place called the Tonic Room. We took public transportation up, and had an adventure finding the place when some jerk gave us wrong directions. And he was a jerk and probably did it on purpose. Jerk. Daena's foot's been hurting, so it was really bad when we walked a mile out of our way.

But anyway, we drank and laughed and listened to music and talked to people. Daena cut me off after 1 1/4 beers, and I can't say that was a bad move on her part, as she cut me off right after I nearly knocked over our table. I played, and got a good reception. The moderator guy, I think his name was Ernie, went over and talked with my roomies while I played and seemed interested in having me back. Oh, and the whole bar wished me a happy birthday when I got up onstage and Daena screamed out that it was my birthday. (Technically, my birthday had ended an hour earlier, but what are you gonna do?)

While waiting for the train, there were these three very drunk people across the tracks who yelled for me to sing them a song. So I pulled out my guitar and started to play. This one guy holds out a dollar, then, no really... He jumps down onto the tracks and starts making his way across.

I stop playing and we're all yelling at him to get off the tracks, but this one voice drowns us out- CTA security. He climbs back up and she says she's trying to go easy on him because he's up there drinking, and that's illegal, but he'd be dead if he hit that third track, and... wow.

Daena kept saying that I almost killed a guy.

My music is lethal.