Yesterday Erika and I drove to the University of Chicago and walked around campus for awhile. Erika got accepted there as an undergrad and I got accepted into this lame-ass M.A. in humanities program there but strangely enough neither of us decided to go there. Great school and all but there's something strange and conflicted about the campus that never felt right to me. Something about the layout, the way busy streets run through it like an electric cable and there's no central identity architecturally speaking. Even Yale and Notre Dame felt more right to me than U of C did in part because I knew where to find the heart of each campus, and in part because acting intellectual was basically dépassé. Also, both of those campuses were self-contained, protected by the invasion of the outside world (both good and bad), a place of exploration and wonder, but certainly not devoutly stressful.
Afterwards we did something we've always wanted to do, we ate brunch at the Chicago Diner. My vegan biscuits and gravy were delicious but I could have done without the faux sausage. It tasted like a spicy veggie burger which isn't real breakfasty. I also think that biscuits should always be drenched in gravy no matter whether it's made of mushrooms or sausage. That's the law of gravy drenching, everyone knows that. Then we drove to Lincoln Park, bought some high-tech lotion at Kiehl's and walked to the Zoo and watched the gorillas in the Ape House. If only I knew sign language . . .