Posts Tagged "on the way home"

Cleaning Up Someone Else’s Bad Luck

To compound this notion that the tickets were mine: I couldn’t find a trash can anywhere nearby. With all these tickets clutched in my right hand, I was wandering around briefly looking for some place to throw them away. Finding none, I had to keep walking with them, a small bouquet of tickets in my fist. I really must have looked like a crazy person.

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Shadow Selfie

I like this photo because it captures a lot of what we do, when we arrive home. Which is namely: pausing at the sidewalk, and looking at all the flowers that have started to bloom.

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Hindsight

Snapped this photo with my phone, while standing in the last Metra car, looking back at the city. There was more snow melting than falling today, and this resulted in a great deal of water on the back window.

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The Fix is Not the Solution

It was funny to encounter this the very first time: it showed a certain kind of doggedness, a certain kind of determination. But I’ve seen these buckets multiple times since – and they seem to have been growing in number, the past few months.

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Hulk Hogan Takes the Back Seat

Spotted this guy on the way home, and it made me smile. Sure, he takes up a lot of the rear window but I think you and I can agree that it’s worth it. Besides, any car that sees this will very clearly move out of the way, once he catches a glimpse of the Hulkster.

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Found Note, Translated

My mom was pretty quick with her translation, though according to her the author wasn’t really fluent in Chinese. Which was surprising, as I just assumed it was a note written by someone who was Chinese. Below are her words, with a bit of editing from me:

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Found Note, Untranslated

I never really learned to read/write in Chinese, though I can mostly make my way through a conversation in Cantonese (less so in Mandarin). I recognize a few characters here and there. Words for “I” and “person,” “big” and “small.” The range of characters I know is very limited.

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Free Books, Hyde Park

As I was browsing around, a woman said behind me “I’ve got another box.” I turned, and saw she had set out yet more books to go through. I learned a lot of them were Philosophy books (she and her husband were both professors, I think). I learned that they’re moving, and that these books are a small sample of what they had inside the house.

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The Weight of Home

When I touched him on the shoulder he seemed to perk up a bit. I asked if he had anywhere he could go and crash, if I could call him a cab. Part of me wanted to help and part of me was thinking that maybe I could move him away from the cop, maybe avoid him being arrested.

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