[above] The neighboring buildings--Flatiron (left) and Coyote Tower (right)--to my workplace
This era, marked by my work trip to Kansas last week, has been characterized by a weekend of gallavanting around the hipster scene in Wicker Park on Friday, pitching and sleeping in my tent in a friend's living room on Saturday, drinking wine and making a delicious paneer dish on Sunday, twenty-five cent wings and monday night football somewhat predictably on Monday, and writing this two-bit entry on today, Tuesday. Although it hasn't been much different from my weekly activities in the Pre-Kansas era, my roommates and I have made this distinction for a few key reasons:
(1) One of my three roommates, Mr. Yuri Castaño, started his work at a consulting firm upon my departure to Kansas, thus relinquishing his two-month stint as that guy who wandered around the house looking for things to pretend to do while we (Matt and myself) were away at work.**
(2) Having returned to Chicago from Kansas--a modern and bustling center for all cultural endeavors--there was a certain appreciation I had for the city as a new home.
(3) I wanted to unabashedly bring attention to the fact that CNT Energy (the non-profit I work for) flew me and my mandolin to Kansas, to have many romantic nights sitting in the Kansas prairie singing songs like 'Home on the Range'.
Fortunately, I don't know the full version of 'Home on the Range' on the mandolin. Unfortunately, my romantic nights were dashed by an unseasonable cold and rainy front in central Kansas, robbing me of my chance to see the plains surrounding Manhattan. This didn't stop my co-worker and I from perusing the local watering holes in Aggieville--the center of the KSU bar scene--which proved to be a good experience for the limited amount of leisure time we spent there.
The real reason we were sent there was to go through an energy auditing training with a building institute that for some reason decided to set-up shop in the middle of Kansas. The training was a week-long intensive course, about ten hours a day, that culminated in a test on Friday. To be certified we needed an 80. It sounds a lot harder than it was.
Nonetheless, many of our classmates--who most often were life-long contractors wanting to switch to the less physical profession of energy auditing and consulting--did not pass the test at the end, and thus could not be certified until next time they passed the test. One of them, with whom I had formed a special bond, approached me after the results came out to get my information and offer me a deal. His name was Joe and he was from Oklahoma. Since he had already started a green business, he was wary of losing his clientele, so he offered to pay me to come down to northeastern Oklahoma to perform some energy audits for him. More importantly, he kicked in that we could spend the majority of the time mudding in his backyard. For those of you who don't know what mudding is, just imagine an old, dirty Ford escort with no doors or windows on it sliding around the mud in Joe's backyard and you'll get the general sense. Alternatively, you can look at the picture below, which seems to be some sort of mudding rally:
"The hard part is, when you flip upside-down, to make sure you don't spill your beer all over your face"
-Joe Martin
Ah, Kansas.
**In all honesty Mr. Castaño is actually a very productive young man and would never waste his time in such a manner.
