I’m sort of ambivalent about blog posts comprised entirely on Instagram photos. On one hand, it strikes me as sort of uninteresting and lazy. On the other hand, pretty! I don’t have an iPhone. And I’m going to let you in on how truly mundane my life is and disclose that I often squabble with a friend over whether his iPhone is better than my HTC. As if that, of all my consumer choices, says a thing about who I am. I once made the mistake of confessing to this friend that I check the app store at least once a week for Instagram for Android. And I’m always disappointed when my search results are a string of photo editing apps with janky names, like InstaFunRoid! I point out that I paid less than $50 for my phone to his $200-something, and he rubs salt in my Instagram-less wound. So I can’t post Instagram photos on my blog. But I can post grainy snapshots of my day, thanks to Android and Pixlr-0-matic. I’m still figuring out how to post from the phone and how to make the layout on the blog less clunky. We’ll get there. In the meantime, this is what a weekend in Chicago looks like for me. Other people post pictures of their food, or their feet, or their loved ones. I’ve only got eyes for brick, and wire.
On Saturday, Robert and I go to Metropolis Coffee. We often drive, even though it’s less than half a mile away. We pass no less than four food stores* like this one on the way.
Two of the three walls in the living room of our new apartment are all windows, and it’s been a sunshiny winter. It softened the edge of the Seasonal Affective Disorder that plagued us last year. Robert is growing bonsai trees, which he sets under this window every morning. I let my soul linger at this sill on Saturdays and Sundays, and give thanks for this city.
I pass this library on the way to church every Sunday. Every Sunday I’m that idiot holding a camera above the steering wheel while I’m stopped at a red light, trying to get a picture of the striking signage. Now that I’m typing this out, I realize I should just pull into the library parking lot, and stop risking my life and a traffic ticket.
I want to bid you a good Friday now, but I realized another thing I hate is when bloggers act like Friday is already the weekend. Don’t they know I have to work today? And probably tomorrow? Even so, I hope your able to sneak a few pretty, gritty, Instagram-y moments into these next few days.
*When I worked at the public defender’s office, a lot of the crimes our juvenile clients allegedly committed took place on the way to or from, or at, the neighborhood liquor store. The kids were well-trained to say “food store” on the witness stand.