Things I Miss About Champaign
I’ve been meaning to make this list for a long time, but Gemma’s recent photos have pushed me to actually writing it up. My feelings for Champaign are all wrapped up in my grad school experience, my first really fulfilling (and challenging) professional job, and a prolonged period of personal growth and experimentation between the end of my marriage and the beginning of my relationship with Shane – so lots of complicated, complicating things factor into my relationship with that little city in the corn.
- Riding my bike down University towards GSLIS early in the morning in the summer – empty roads and the sun coming up through the trees. A 7 minute commute on a good day. And then the long months when I couldn’t ride because my arm was in a cast.
- West Side Park. Living across from West Side Park. Walking home through West Side Park after a long shift at Aroma or a movie at the Art or a too-late night at Mike & Molly’s.
- Coffee and sandwiches at Paradiso. Consistently good music on the stereo. The smoking section at Paradiso, barely partitioned off by a row of ficus trees. Books or homework on the “patio”. Paradiso’s perfect imperfectness.
- Living near downtown Champaign, where I never paid more than $500 for a one bedroom apartment, and even that included utilities. My first solo apartment directly across from the park. My studio apartment that never really got above 50 degrees in the winter, but that in the summer offered the most fabulous porch for parties. The apartment with the Wild Things on the wall and the yellow kitchen. Our last place on Clark, where we rented the entire ground floor for around $750, planted our first garden, spent $300+ on heat in the winter, and enjoyed the mixed blessing of a screened-in entryway – great for cats in the sun, not great for cats escaping.
- Saturday mornings at the Urbana farmers’ market, bringing home things I didn’t recognize and that would eventually go bad in the fridge. Splurging on fancy cheese, meat, and a croissant from Art Mart. Riding our bikes to the market and bringing a dedicated backpack for watermelon or canteloupe.
- Friday afternoon Revolution Lunch at Jerusalem Restaurant with my favorite nutters. The food was fine, but the company was effing crazy. I’m glad to hear that it hasn’t changed.
- French toast at Sam’s, where Shane and I went for breakfast one of the first times he spent the night. We drew maps of our hometowns on the rectangular napkins. In case you ever forget, the special is at the top.
- Late nights studying at Merry Ann’s with Sarah and Nicole, drinking TERRIBLE coffee and eating fries and goofing around with the servers. Going to Merry Ann’s at bar time, ordering a grilled cheese sandwich, and being in and out in under 10 minutes. Greg and I standing on the booth and singing happy birthday to Mark, who brought us screwdrivers mixed in the back. Hanging out with Shane for the first time after Carl and I had gone to see 2046, all three of us wasted but on totally different things (exhaustion, alcohol, an emotionally weighty movie). Many many plates of fries before Subversion.
- Boltini bingo. We went almost every week the last summer we lived there, but I didn’t win ANYTHING until my very last card on my very last bingo. Marv gave me his oversized clapper, which I kept until we moved to Michigan.
- Aroma. Working at Aroma. Drinking mojitos outside Aroma in the spring of 2003. Working 20 hour days (Aroma + Carle) in the fall of 2004 when it was easier to not sleep than to deal with my heartbreak. 10 hour kitchen shifts with all New Order all the time, getting fake engaged to Sam, smoking out front with Carl and Erich and Leah in the summer. Ryan’s shark mug and Dave catching flies out the air. Flirting with customers who became friends. Coffee grounds permanently under my fingernails. A good place and a good time, though definitely not the best coffee in the world.
- Symposium at the Esquire, and the Esquire in general. For at least the first year after we left Champaign, I would often sigh and say that I just wanted to go the Esquire for dinner – cheap beer, cheap bar food, endless bowls of peanuts. Always the same, never disappointing – just a solid townie bar.
- The Blind Pig in the winter of 2004-2005. Holding hands with Carl on my 25th birthday. A snowball fight in the middle of the night in the middle of Walnut Street. It’s still a great bar, and I know Shane misses it greatly, but (oh this is so hipster) I stopped truly loving it when the sign went up.
- Swimming laps in the outside pool at IMPE in the summer of 2005. I had started exercising that spring, but realized after my first botched length that Curves had nothing on laps in the 50 meter pool. Sunshine, chlorine, hard work, bliss.
- Sunday nights at Bentley’s – our Local Neighborhood Bar – with the GSLIS crew. Beth’s Bloody Marys and Blue Moons adorned with loads of snacks. So many games of Bohnanza that we bought a second copy – one for the bar, another for occasions when we were less likely to spill drinks. Planning our first Bonnaroo, celebrating our first NYE, eating a whole lot of miniature pizzas.
- Gyne instruction totally changed my understanding of my own body, and of the range of what constitutes ‘normal’. I am so thankful for having the opportunity to work with such a remarkable group of women and to become empowered to advocate for my own health. In the years since, a number of friends have felt comfortable asking me about gyne health stuff because they knew I had this experience and was willing to talk about it openly. What a remarkable gift.
- Porch parties at my place on Springfield. There weren’t many of them, but oh, they were wonderful.
- So much enduring love for Cafe Kopi. I can’t believe I lived in Champaign almost a year before I found it, and can’t believe I haven’t found a comparable spot since. Actually, I can believe it. Kopi has something really special going on. The coffee and food aren’t remarkable, but they’re solidly good, as are the staff and the ambiance. I spent way too many nights doing my grad school reading over their cafe miels and tuna salad salads – and swatting away the ever-present flies on the patio. Those things will survive the apocalypse, I swear.
- Mike & Molly’s may be my most favorite bar ever. Shane preferred the Blind Pig, but my heart belongs to M&M. Lots of nights reading with a beer, hanging out with townie friends, dancing to music played in the loft by friends. Someone – Tim? Steve? – trying to explain darts to me. The chalkboard in the bathroom. Knowing that I was a regular when I forgot my ID and the bartender vouched for me to the doorman. The bar’s vignette in Tell Me Do You Miss Me. Carl arranging for my induction into Pi Omega Omega on my next-to-last night in town.
- Nox/Subversion and the year that saw me on the dance floor almost every week. I told Shane recently that I missed out on being a raver girl because I didn’t live in a big city in my early 20s. Instead, I had Tuesday nights at the High Dive with Emily and Jim playing the music I always wanted to listen to but didn’t know how to discover on my own. Saturday nights with Tim in the booth and reciprocal pants protection with Shane and Karin. Meeting Brian and Ben and Kristina and so many others. Dancing when I was sick, dancing when my heart was breaking, dancing when I’d had too much to drink, dancing on the patio in the pouring rain.
- And then there’s everything about GSLIS: getting my job, making my friends, meeting Shane, finding a career path, getting a real job, discovering and falling in love with and then hating and then loving research. All the wonderful, remarkable, challenging, and exceptional people who over the years became friends, colleagues, trusted associates, and family. I can’t even begin to articulate the ways that this school changed my life.
Ultimately, though, what I miss is being able to walk everywhere – and the fact that wherever I went, I would run into someone I knew. Hell, it’s been four years and that is still often the case. And it goes without saying that the people and relationships made Champaign my home, but there are far too many of them to list here.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): “We have to stumble though so much dirt and humbug before we reach home,” wrote novelist Herman Hesse. “And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is homesickness.” That’s the bad news, Capricorn. The good news, according to my analysis, is that 2011 could very well be the year that your homesickness drives you all the way home. For best results, keep this tip in mind: To get the full benefit of the homesickness, you shouldn’t suppress it. Only by feeling it deeply, as a burning, grinding ache, will you be able to ride it all the way home.
I have been in search of home since we left Champaign more than three years ago. My heart’s desire is to find it. Maybe this year.