After getting through a few more stories in Chicago Noir, I decided to put that down and start another (much more enticing) short story collection - The Oxford Book of Victorian Ghost Stories. So far, it's totally rad, and actually, kind of scary, although I found the Dickens short story in the collection to be a tad disappointing. I'm on the tenth out of thirty five stories so far. I thought about finishing Chicago Noir, as I don't like to leave books unfinished, but it's a short story collection and I thought I wouldn't really be missing much. Like I said earlier, there were a few interesting stories in the collection, but the most interesting (Claire Zulkey's "The Great Billik") could have been reworked for more success... at least from my humble, 'always the critic, never the writer' position. The narration in the story keeps us distanced as far as possible from the eerie happenings in the neighborhood. Maybe an omniscient narrator seemed boring or sensationalized to the author, but I would have liked to get a better glimpse into the fortune teller (the title character) and the actual events that allow the story to be classified into a noir collection. Boo. I also didn't enjoy the trite historical details awkwardly inserted into the story by Zulkey; for example, the inclusion of an unrelated trip to Detroit in which the women were exhilarated to attend a Detroit Tigers' game unescorted. Ok, I get it - it's the early 20th century and women's rights were limited. Gotcha. Thanks for proving to me that you stayed awake during your women's studies lecture in u-grad, Zulkey.
In other news, I learned the significance of $16 this weekend when I chose not to upgrade to business class for my trip home on Amtrak this past weekend. I endured a fitful sleep last night on our delayed train, waking up to conductors yelling at drunk morons for smoking in the bathrooms, obnoxious children, and other annoyances. I rue not paying the extra $16 that would have afforded me a much more comfortable seat and a secluded spot to sleep the miles away. I will return home this weekend to attend Corinne's baby shower, but this time, via auto. My first stop is Lincoln Park on Friday to visit Jen; I am even entertaining the thought of leaving Carbondale super early on Friday to be able to hit up North Beach around noon, and then picking up Jen from work around 5. We'll see what happens. I need a beach in my life, and that looks to be the only beach in my future.
Besides the means of travel, the weekend (ok, four full days plus parts of Wednesday and Monday) home was great and I'm really looking forward to graduating and being (physically) close to the people I love and care about again. One of the most entertaining events from the visit was martini night at Villa Verone with my mom and her girlfriends... wow. I guess I didn't realize that middle aged women like to dance to Justin Timberlake. And 50 Cent. Or talk about weird things from their past that I may not have wanted to know. But it was somewhat encouraging to see that fun doesn't have to die in your 20s, and that you can still look good and have fun with your girlfriends even when you're married and have children. I know that sounds so lame, but I worry that old age will suck and it's nice to see that a good portion of aging is optional. Granted, my mom is not like the mom from Mean Girls or anything; she doesn't have a boob job, try to act 'cool', or wear Juicy Couture sweatpants or anything horrifying like that. But she and all of her friends look good and it's nice to know that my future won't necessarily have to be depressing, drab, or flabby.
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