OK, so, last night, I had to pee. This isn't that unusual for me, and I spend a lot of time doing it, as whenever I'm home in my apartment I spend the entire time with a glass of ice water tipped up against my lips.

When the film crew documents me turning 120 years old, and they ask me the obligatory "What's your secret, old timer?" question, I'm going to bellow "FINE, I'M GAAAAAAAY! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"

Then, I'll realize that they were asking me about my Long Life Secret, and I'll say "Ooooh...ice water." After that, I'll die happily, having finally revealed my secret homosexuality and love of ice water.

Anyway, I suppose one of the interesting things about my peeing is that I tend to use the actual toilet, while a certain other diarist out there (who is doing just fine embarassing himself without my pointing him out) has an unholy love of giant Taco Bell cups.

So, I get to my bathroom, stand at my toilet, and begin the necessary preparations. It's at that point that I remember that my bathroom, like all bathrooms, has amazing acoustic qualities. So, I begin to do a few vocal exercises from my singing class.

"ohohohohohohohohohohohohOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOawawawawawawawawaw"

About a minute went by.

I just thought you should know, that, for a good minute or two last night, I stood in my bathroom, equipment at the ready, screaming "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" at the top of my lungs, and that it was a totally innocent and beautiful thing.

So.

I live in this little part of Chicago called Ravenswood. It's a nice place, very quiet, residential. Lots of families, lots of elderly. There are a few cool places to go, but nothing at all that you'd call a scene. The elderly to hipster ratio is by far in favor of the Oldies. I like this about my neighborhood, but at the same time, I wish there was more to do for a youngster like me. I don't like that a good portion of my friends live across town, and, being without wheels, I'm forced to CTA it to them.

Anyway, the high school where I'm working is walking distance from where I live, so, lately, while I walk, I keep having this daydream about all of the ways I'd like the neighborhood to be different. I'd like to see this big nasty hospital flattened and made into a walking park, with lots of wrought iron fences, some statues and maybe a fountain. I'd like to keep the one hospital building I do like and see it turned into cheap apartments or maybe a youth hostel, or both. I'd like this noisy mechanic's garage turned into a theater, or partitioned and see half of it become the local grocery store. I'd like all the light industrial buildings that are on either side of the Metra tracks to be turned into small, independently owned cafes and bookstores and venues and other shops. The streets over there are brick, and still aren't 100% paved over, so it would look great if on weekends they had open air markets, like Camden in London.

Lots of cool, young, artsy people would flock there, and we'd have a new hip enclave in Chicago. It would be great.

So, my daydream started where I was just this wealthy developer, and I was buying up property, rebuilding the neighborhood to fit my vision. But there was too much red tape, and politics, and I knew it would take a long time.

So, I just decided in my daydream to be God and make it happen instantly.

Well, fine and good. So now it's all changed, just how I like it. As God, I get a sweet house nearby, I get to stock the whole place with my friends from all over. Whatever I want. My own little paradise. Real good, yes?

But, as God, will this be as exciting for me as it is for everyone else? I mean, being all powerful, do I really need to trudge my ass down the street to see that show, or go and sit in that coffeehouse and talk to people? To what end? If I had God-like powers, and I wanted to feel the satisfaction of seeing live music, I'd just make myself feel that way. If I wanted to go charm the cute girl at the cafe, being God, I could just make her mine in an instant without all the work.

I suppose that, as God, you could decide to get rid of your God-like powers, or choose to disable them occasionally, but how realistic is that? Would you have that kind of self-discipline? And then, to take it a step further, even if I did instantly make that cute cafe girl love me, as God, I'd know everything she was ever going to do or say. Or, if I just wanted the pleasure of being with her, why wouldn't I just make myself feel pleasurable, and cut out the middle man?

I definitely don't think that God is dead, but I'm beginning to think he might be very bored.

This is what you start to think about when you don't have a decent bar in your neighborhood.

Joe, if you were worried about my sanity yesterday, I can't imagine what you must think today. And I'd like to take this opportunity to acknowledge that this entry was bizarrely contemplative and I know it, but, if you just let me get it out of my system, I'll go back to writing about cake and coffee and food eventually.