A Beautiful Day for a Slice of Death

After walking back to my train from one of the most interesting (and potentially disastrous) interviews of my life, I still couldn’t help but smile. The sun was shining, it was 55F and there was no wind (a God send for Chicago in early April). I had a whole day to explore the city!

After walking through the nice and surprisingly free Lincoln Park Zoo, and along the lake, the rest of the afternoon was spent earning my first sunburn of the year and taking some creative pictures of cloud gate. Cloud Gate is simply a geometrical and artistic masterpiece, not only because I have no idea how they fabricated it with no seams, but also because it forces people to interact. Other artistic sculptures people usually look at, say “that’s nice,” MAYBE snap a picture, and then they walk on and forget them. Cloud Gate forces people to investigate, to stick around and play, and the smiles it produces are proof of what a work that it is.

As we walked and Frank Sinatra literally played out onto the sidewalk I realized that I really could live here. The energy here is outstanding and seems to compliment my own internal chi. Now…all I need is an interview. 🙂

Life was good until a fatal mistake was made…

To finish a perfect Chicago day, I opted to eat some Chicago style pizza for the cultural experience. This wasn’t the first time that I have severely punished my body with this three-inch thick piece of steaming death, but maybe I was younger two years ago. My arteries nearly jumped out of my body and went running when the waiter cut our first slices and the grease literally oozed out like blood. My cholesterol went up just looking at it.

Even after the cutting was finished, I watched as a flowing river of pizza life-force continued to trickle out under the weight of only the cheese, and saturate the cardboard. My three slices hit my stomach like slabs of concrete and all systems failed to launch after that. My planned night of craic in the city turned into a night of lying around the hostel and praying that no one was in the shared bathroom when this stuff finally got the hell out of my system.

Mind you, I’ve eaten some pretty messed up stuff, particularly in China, but this was self-mutilation. Give me a plate of dog meat any day. 🙂

I do have to admit, Chicago style pizza is absolutely delicious, but I’m not willing to sell my soul to enjoy it. It’s not a problem anyway, if I ever come near this stuff again my esophagus will probably tie itself into a knot.

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One Response to “A Beautiful Day for a Slice of Death”

  1. walking backwards April 9, 2008 at 15:29 pm

    ohh yes. the chicago pizza. it took me a few attempts to realize that half a slice was enough. :]

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