I Have No Business Going To A Great Lakes City At November's End

[OK, before I tell you why, let me say I'm shivering in my bedroom, blood barely circulating thru my stiff little fingers as they blupbblubpblubp on the keyboard. It's COLD in San Francisco right now; it was cold yesterday, clear, and sunny and cold, and it's COLD today, grey and overcast and cold. And I have the audacity to be planning to be most of the way to Chicago in 24 hours? I don't know from chilly: as I keep telling everyone, I've never not lived in a town located on El Camino Real of California's genocidal mission fathers. I can't handle the cold.]

[So, why not close the window? Well, Monday was interesting, in the Confucian curse sort of way. After a full day at school (a practice Contracts exam which I forgot about and so didn't have notes for, rushing home to try to finish my endless Memo rewrite, rushing back to school for a pretty enlightening Criminal lecture, followed by one of Violet's delightful study sessions), John and I killed a bottle of R.G. Phillips chard watching AbFab (the new ones are only so-so, of course; the last season of the original run was only so-so, and, like so many aspects of the past, Ms. Saunders' first two seasons of brilliance would be pretty hard to equal, let alone top), watched something else, and decided to pack it in at about 11:15. John went into the bedroom, and was vexed to hear our neighbor across the way playing his "dull, soulless dance music" way too loud with his window open (as he's been wont to do for the last few weeks...) In concert with several of our neighbors, John yelled something demure like "Shut the fuck up!" He turned around, and a full, unopened can of Miller Genuine Draft crashed thru the window, smashing both panes and showering the computer, table, bed, floor and piles of crap we always have lying around with broken glass.]

[I was standing just outside the bedroom, heard the breaking glass and John's shriek, emitted one of my own, and ran in to see what the hell happened. It took an hour and a half for the police to arrive, just so they could tell us there wasn't much they could do, since we didn't see Asshole Neighbor With The Loud Music & Excellent Aim actually throw the beer can. After sweeping the shards of glass out of the bed, it took until after 2AM for John and me to calm down enough to get to sleep. (What else might ANWTLM&EA decide to throw?) Our apartment manager has been pretty great in the aftermath; the manager of the building in which ANWTLM&EA lives believes our story, and is "following up," whatever that means. However, the window hasn't been repaired yet (today, tomorrow, who knows?), so I'm sitting here FREEZING; heat in our building is via antiquated radiator which works when it feels like it, and you guess what kind of mood it's in. Some days I love living in the Tenderloin.]

[Just as well we're getting out of town. While a Molotov cocktail hurled with equal accuracy might at least be WARM for a minute, I don't think it would be worth it. See you next week.]

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[Oh, and Miller Genuine Draft? Eeeeewwww...that should tell you something right there about ANWTLM&EA...}