I do not want kids.

But if I end up with some of the nasty little buggers, one thing I know for sure is that they will read Harry Potter.

I'm not going to force them to play the violin or get a 2400 on the SAT or play a sport or any of that crap. No. I'm just going to just turn my brethren into Dumbledore's Army part two. I want them to relive the same experience I had reading the books - imagining the scenes in their heads, gasping at plot twists, picking out their favorite characters (Sirius Black), falling in love with Sirius Black, bawling when he dies, re-reading chapters to look for clues, changing their mind about what side Snape's on, debating the characters' religious symbolism, etc cetera. I want them to live, breathe, and bleed Harry Potter. I want them to know all of Dumbledore's middle names. I want them to recite their Horcruxes and hiding places/methods of retrieval better than they can recite the the star-spangled banner. I want them to run around my backyard on broomsticks throwing basketballs-painted-as-quaffles onto each other's faces. I do not know how to knit but I will take it up just to knit them ugly little maroon-and-gold sweaters with their names (Dudley Dobby, Hagrid Harry, Petunia GiantSquid) on them every Christmas.

This is probably why nobody should ever let me have kids.

photos from my phone

Museum of Science and Industry in Hyde Park, Chicago. Having never been to Europe, I like to pretend I'm exploring ancient Roman ruins whenever I walk by these statues. This is probably a sign that I need more friends. 

I see this sign when walking into my hotel every day and each time it makes me want to burst out in song and become this gay black man.

In other news, I am STILL obsessed with Rihanna. It's not even Only Girl in the World anymore (though I still listen to that at least 5x a week) - the obsession has spread to Man Down, Cheers (Drink to That), and What's My Name. I especially love the music video for the latter. I just want Rihanna and Drake to get married and adopt me into their fabulous grungy-chic city apartment and feed me Chinese takeout all day. Really, is that too much to ask?

Ok. That is all. Time for  a little Game of Thrones and then nighty night time.

deboardin' the airplane-o

It's true. Everything is bigger here. Cars, cows, cleavage. You name it, it's XXL.

Everything is also shiny and new down here. I'm used to walking around Chicago and seeing a smidgeon of grunge here and there (admittedly less so after my move from Hyde Park to Lakeview). But here in Plano, there are no homeless to awkwardly avoid eye contact with. There aren't abandoned houses or neglected alleys that serve as an eyesore in between beautiful homes. I don't even think there are dumpsters here.

Things here are built with purpose and resolve. The big-ass streets are what still get me - while Texas certainly has its fair share of weather problems, the roads make it obvious that snow is not one of them. I'm not used to seeing such perfect, uncracked, unpotholed pavement. It's unnerving, like seeing a face that's too symmetrical or beautiful. There are no flaws here, no points of interest to focus on, and as a result, not much to say about the locale.

I don't think I could ever live in a place like this, where life is uninspiring but easy and comfortable if you're privileged enough to have the money to live here. But I admit it makes for a nice getaway during the week. By the time I find myself longing for Chicago I usually only have to wait a day or two. Then an insane weekend inevitably sweeps me in with the current of the city and I find myself wanting nothing more than to be curled up with a book a thousand miles away, which is exactly the kind of refuge Plano offers. Then the cycle starts over: board plane deboard plane Chicago Chicago board plane deboard plane Texas Texas Texas Texas Texas. If my life were a Daft Punk song those would be the lyrics and it'd be an awesome song.