raybear | You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead.

Someone offered us a ride to Teatro Luna in east Pilsen last night for the Lysistrata Project, since the theater wasn't terribly convenient to public transportation. While tempted, I declined. "No thank you, but

freakysparks and I are going to have an adventure." And we did.

Though compared to the narrative events of my morning, last night is harder to write about in detail. We tried not to kill ourselves when walking through closed roads and we had to stop to light our cigarettes because it was snowy and neither one of use could walk and talk and flick the lighter at the same time. I told Sparky I felt like we were in a recreation of the Gus Van Sant's movie Gerry, though I didn't go as far to determine which one of us would be Matt Damon. The streets were wide open and empty and the snow was soft and crunchy and smooth and the blocks seemed to get further apart the longer we walked. We ended up eating dinner at a gast station convenience store because there were no restaurants, only churches and small corner buildings that had Pabst Blue Ribbon neon signs glowing in the one window facing the street. I'm sure these bars didn't serve food.

The play itself was fun and I enjoyed doing the reading. The cast member were excellent performers and the words I had just read the night before took on new meaning and humor and insight because of their ability to create the character. It forced me to step my rap game up, even if I was only Male Chorus 1 and had maybe a dozen lines total. (Miss Swan:See, I project.)

After the show we considered loitering and making a friend to procure a ride, but we were approached by several others asking us the same thing. I turned to Sparky and said, "look. I can get us home. I can get us to the Red line, or another train to take us to the red line, but you have to be okay with walking. But I know where I am and how to get there, it will just be a long walk." She agreed. I'm not sure if it was reluctantly, but she never gave me indication that she didn't trust me!

So about fourteen blocks later, we arrived at the train station. In between were cigarettes and conversations about 80's music and relationships and anti-war relatives and work and livejournal.

I'm glad Sparky let me kidnap her to traipse through the streets of the near South side on a snowy Monday night.

CANCER (March 4, 2003): It’s all too much. You knew things were going to speed up, but you weren’t planning on so much so fast. It’s enough to make you leave the outer world behind and to retreat into your intuitive and imaginal realms. But this isn’t just about escape. It’s about reserving your energy for the work ahead. You can’t make it go away, so you may as well face it sooner than later.