"Choosing a ground by something pre-existent in you... presumably the object that has aroused in you something."

Well, Brooklyn: I am leaving Chicago.

It's been real. Lots of sweetperson time, lots of sweetdog time, lots of sweetfriend time, lots of newfriend time and newbeach time and newcity time. Lots of movie-making and Christine Schutt-reading and foot-healing. Yesterday JRoss competed in Queer Top Chef... and yes, it was as awesome as you're imagining. He and Vea, competing as the Queerly Brothers in Chippendale's outfits (for real), won in the outfit category, but were beaten overall by the Crusty Mustards. Otherwise there were barbequed foods and some intensely sweet rum punch and the kind of sunburn you get when it's overcast. There was me limping up to the roof and back down again. There was crippling shyness I got over. There was pal-ing around with my new friend. There was snuggling the littlest, most submissive dog I have ever met. And then in the evening we went to JRoss's friend's going away party at the bar where they all hang out, this sweet dive bar called The Sovereign that's filled with older white people you'd expect and then a bunch of radical queers. Pretty awesome. There was some whiskey-drinking and shit-talking and sweetfriend's-sweetperson-meeting and wishing-i-could-dance-but-having-to-sit-instead. There was serious fatigue, as there has been throughout this visit.

Today Marielle comes again and we'll be extras in the movie and then I will get ready to head back to NEW ENGLAND. Land of ice cream and swimming and greenery and berry-picking, I will return.

And Brooklyn: I miss you.