I was down in River North yesterday, taking in a couple of movies (Bend it Like Beckham, X2), and several hoppy beverages (at Coyote Ugly, if you must know, but only because Lindsie works there and the beers are subsequently cheap, which isn't to say it's not entertaining, but just not somewhere I would go on its own merits, and gee, isn't this parenthetical expression getting too long?), and my travels took me past the RollingStone.com offices. Which, apparently, are now the former RollingStone.com offices, as they've cut even the sales presence that was left when I left nearly a year ago.

This news came from a former co-worker that I met at the Kill Hannah/Assassins show last week, which was at Metro, right around the corner from my old apartment. I parked up by my home of eight years, and while I can't be sure, it looked suspiciously like it was going condo. I had noticed that they were putting balconies up, and it didn't click until last week. Which means I managed to get out just in time, almost completely by chance.

Add to all this the fact that the company I worked for right out of school went out of business last month, and suddenly I seem to possess some sort of latent kiss of death. Prior to this, the only similar incident was when they tore down the house where my ex-girlfriend used to live, but none of these recent happenings were quite as cathartic as that one was. I'm not quite sure what to make of it all at the moment, outside of stunning, yet amusing coincidence.