Hi. My name is Trystan. I live in Wicker Park, or as I like to call it The Triple-O District. (Overstimulated. Overglorified. Overgentrified.) Everyone's a poseur.

I love it...
I hate it...

And then I love it all over again.

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This is where I work. (Actually I work at the one on State Street, but I couldn't find it on the Google image search. I'm getting transferred to this branch at the end of Febuary. Except, like, you know. The one that's open. )

I know this doesn't look like an Area 8 building, but I swear to God that's exactly what it is. This place is the major source of the Great Chicago Bedbug Epidemic. It's also where I live... maybe. (Stalker.)

And look, I'm so not taking pictures of my apartment. But here is me in my apartment. As you can tell, I broke the lampshade. Hence the solemn face.

I also have ghosts.

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So OK, it's over. That was anti-climactic.

Well, it took me long enough to start using this thing. My New Years Resolution is to take more pictures of Me and The Power Entourage on wild hog chases, piefights on the Red Line, stroller thievery and other pointless acts of depravity. Until then, this journal will mostly consist of rantings on pop-culture and politics, the occassional weekend rehash, a bit of long-winded overpontificating... (okay, let's be honest... a lot of it.) I might even discuss about my ongoing projects. The point is that I'm not taking this thing too seriously. I'm working 64 hour weeks. I'll do whatever I want. And if it succeeds in being entertaining, we'll call it a brilliant mistake.

I'm going to watch The Wedding Crashers with Brandon now.