For the past 7 years I have lived in the city of Chicago and have been proud to call the Midwest my home. I’m not from here, but when I decided to move out of New York and find “something different” my first choice was Chicago. In 7 years I watched the neighborhood I have called home grow from a sketchy place you don’t really want to walk around in at night to a place where condos are going up everywhere, bars open on every corner, and people sit outside and eat food and drink coffee. It’s weird.

Walking and biking around the past week I’ve started to get nostalgic for my neighborhood. I realized that I knew a lot more and appreciated a lot more here than I was aware of. Suddenly every intersection and every storefront I passed held some memory for me. Every bar was a story and every person I saw on the street was someone I knew currently, in passing, or could relate to. Every so often I would see a group of young 20-somethings carrying that ubiquitous case of Pabst Blue Ribbon to their apartment they probably all shared with 3 other people and I’d smile thinking of all those wasted nights that I wouldn’t take back for anything. All the barbecues, birthday parties, bike rides, bands playing in basements, buddy tattoos, fireworks, falling down the stairs, Summer Of Blood, etc…. Being a person who tours and got to come home and experience this every day when I was off without a care in the world helped me live my Chicago experience in fast forward.  Even if I was a bit (ahem) too old (cough) to really be partaking, I did anyway.

Things change. My first roommates I had here are married and one is pregnant now, due any day. One became a famous DJ. Another moved to California. One is in Richmond. The other is (still) the best girl guitar shredder I have ever met. I still live with Rick and we still do the same things we did when we both lived on California Avenue.  I still see people who lived in my building and on my block around at bars and shows. Most of everyone else has disappeared to other cities… Richmond, New York City, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Cincinnati… That’s fine with me. I’ll see them on tour.

I feel like I’m already looking back at this time and I haven’t even left yet, but its time to let go of my old idea of Chicago. At this point, most everyone I know has left or has moved to the outer reaches of this city, or is off in their own world and we’ve disconnected from each other’s lives, which is sad, but not totally unexpected. It’s called growing up and moving on.

Moving back to New York is exciting, nerve wracking, and kind of new for me all over again. As much as Chicago has changed in these 7 years, New York City has changed twice as much. Every time I go back I feel like I’m somewhere new that I’ve trodden all over before. Its like seeing a person you’ve known all your life after they’ve gotten facial reconstruction. The soul is still there but it got a serious makeover on the outside. It’s also strange to go back to a place where people who didn’t grow up there now call home and I’M the outsider. Funny how that works out.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this. Maybe nowhere. I just need to see it all written down so I can read my anxious thoughts.

11 more days.