Sitting in the car, headlights off, I watched the rain hit. Hit and then bounce up toward the sky again, falling over and over back to earth. Damp cold settled into our bones, causing the heat to be turned up.
Today dawned chilly but after little balls of hail had decided they were no longer welcome, the sun took over.
We talked on the phone today. “It’s lonely here,” she said. And I agreed. If this is what life will become for me, the endless agony of work stretched in between sleep, I would rather run as fast as I can in some other direction. Instead of hoping for the impossible, dreaming of things and people I can’t have, I’d like to not have this life, but instead trade it for the one I always wanted, never thought possible, in dreams, make them reality, but changing the way I act and do, speak and think, and then one day, maybe I’ll be in charge of a life I’d like to be living instead of this one that includes the bills and the torture and the endless cycle of work, sleep, work, sleep, no laundry has been done in weeks, nothing cleaned. I work my way around piles, and care so little, because there is no point in the organization. No point to the stuff, to the bother, to being on time.
It’s refreshing to no longer care, yet heartbreaking at the same time. The end of summer cannot come soon enough, with its change and hopefully new scenes and faces. I hope for the one constant, I dare not speak aloud, and keep my fingers crossed that fate will look upon me kindly for once.

“Time and chance stand still for no man, or woman.” -Karleen Koen

Spring is ushering in summer, hot and cloudy, full of temper at being roused so early. The storms will cease eventually, but for now, the colors of the afternoons are the colors that people only dream of seeing.
Purples, golds, greens echo through the line of sight, and the browns sink into the dark clouds, strange lighting finding peace in the twilight.
I’ve been struggling to get ahold of my emotions lately, time is just speeding right on by. I feel like I just moved home a month ago, and here it is, May.
Danny coming back has been difficult. We’re trying to be friends, but the whole love thing is getting in the way. He doesn’t understand why I don’t love him anymore, and I can’t explain that I just fell out of love the way that I was in love with him. There’s a friend-love there, but not a love-love, and that distinction is hard to make.
The excitement of being in Chicago has worn off, but I never realized how much I missed it until I went back. Now, my sole focus is the end of the summer and getting there. Getting there. Back to Chicago, land of cold winds and cold hearts, Loyola, and free-flowing liquid delight. Let’s go. Let’s go. I can’t wait. I don’t know why. It’ll be a fresh start. Hopefully.
And then I’ll be able to get on with my life and feel alright again.

And so in the warm rain we ushered in the summer, a little early, never too late.
I sat there, in the dark basement I’ve watched change since we met, and was at home. We talked of old days and of the new, there is no amount of time that can come between us when we are not just summer friends, closer when May approaches June.
The drive home, in the cool night air, windows down, music up, was immense. No other cars on the road, just me and the night, speeding slowly home. I set the cruise control, just for fun, so that I could just be in the night. I was sixteen again, fresh with ideas, taking the turn to the song, letting the music take me elsewhere.
The lights in Denver have begun their countdown, a simple way of informing pedestrians of their impending restriction, and at night, the countdown simply hits zero and reverts back to the little light man walking. I found myself timing it so that as I drove, I’d be crossing the intersection as the change occurred, the ultimate end leading back to the same beginning.
There is nothing better than the promise of summer, no matter what life is holding for you at the moment, standing outside in the night and smelling the air will change your life. Floral scents intermingle with the city’s hot fresh air and the animals of the night seem to be more alive.
We saw a skunk mosey past, on his way somewhere fast. As I drove away into the night, rolling down the windows, I passed the skunk again, still running, still on the street, getting somewhere.
We’re all getting somewhere, even if we have no idea where we are.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=YAvspZ16pFQ

Mom is so in love.

You cant resist her.
Shes in your bones.
She is your marrow, and your ride home.

You cant avoid her.
Shes in the air.
[in the air]
And in between molecules of oxygen and carbon dioxide.

Only in dreams, youll see what it means.
Reach out our hands.
Hold on to hers.
But when we wake, its all been erased.
And so it seems… only in dreams.

You walk up to her.
Ask her to dance.
She says hey baby, I just might take a chance.

You say its a good thing.
That you float in the air.
[in the air.]
Up where theres no way I will crush
Your pretty toenails into a thousand pieces.

Only in dreams, youll see what it means.
Reach out our hands.
Hold on to hers.
But when we wake, its all been erased.
And so it seems… only in dreams.

Only in dreams.
Only in dreams.
Only in dreams!
Only in dreams!
Only in dreams!
Only in dreams.

That song sums it all up. I want to be back in Chicago with the people that I love.

The sunlight was pouring steadily in through the windows as we settled in for sleep after the night. I was tucked in on the couch, blissfully unaware of what was happening to the rest of our companions. The night had started out uneventfully enough, Emily and I went to see “Baby Mama,” a new comedy out last night. Flip flops and shopping led to the purchase of a new swimsuit at the Gap, which will be debuted on our upcoming cruise. From there, we went home, visited friends as we watched old sitcom reruns in the dorm. Midnight, the boys showed up with my bag, brought from their house, and we all piled into a cab for the party. The night was eventful, quiet and wild, conversations, books, drinks flowing freely around us. We stood on the balcony, myself wearing a fake fur coat, jeans, and a black Oxford all borrowed from Emily’s closet.
Four a.m. brought the need for food, and we jumped into a cab and then went back to the dorm. Standing on the quiet street, in the middle of a busy city hushed, we spoke of plans.
And so four of us, Emily, Ian, their friend and myself, left Hunter to find his way home and we went to the packed Tempo Cafe for omelettes. We ate, and finally, tired with the hours spent awake, decided to turn to bed. The boys left us and Emily and I rode the elevator up in silence, exhaustion setting in. I curled up on the couch, blanket and pillow, and sunlight.
Thursday night found the four of us, Ian, Hunter, Emily and I all playing improv games at the boys’ apartment. Emily and Ian met me at the airport, after a difficult plane trip, I was more than ready to be back on solid ground. I sat next to a woman wearing Star Warsesque boots, and we talked and talked. She told me to tell my mom that she was lucky to have a daughter like me, and that if I was ever in Boulder, she wanted to take me out for coffee. It was a bumpy ride, though, the plane lurching and jerking around. I slept fitfully, curled into my stuffed alligator.
Thursday was nice, ended with a movie and the four of us sprawled around on various couches or pull out beds. Emily left for class in the morning after I hit the snooze on Hunter’s alarm. I went with the boys to their acting group, the sun beating down all around us. 80 degrees, a summer dress, flip flops…we were delayed by my sickness, an acute moment in which I was unable to keep anything down. I sat in the park, just off Michigan avenue, in a quiet little grassy enclave. The bench I sat on was surrounded by tulips and a little bird came and sat next to me for awhile. It was a beautiful day.
We walked to Portillo’s and had a late lunch, then separated, running off into the hot rain of the city. I had walked barefoot from the south loop to the north loop and then nearly back, my feet dirty but happy to be back in the city that I love.

I’m going back tomorrow. I just can’t stay away.
Bryan from the frame store stopped my car today and handed me a Bob Dylan CD. sweet.
Have a good weekend!!!!!
I’ll be partying in Chicago. Expect a sweet blog soon! Also, it’s supposed to be warm.
On a sadder note, I have to go to the dentist tomorrow. 😦
Shots. Needles. Pain. Arrghghgh.
Mom can’t go with me. It’s lame.

Aunt Jan lucked out when she married Uncle Mike. Seriously.
She’ll always have someone around to do the heavy lifting, fix the plumbing, and most importantly, haul her around. (not my words, his.)
He married into what would become a pretty large family, and was forced to give up his birthday for me the year I graduated. Lame. I know.
Well, Uncle Mike, this one’s for you.
This year, in a terrible karmic retribution, I am forced to give up not only my birthday but a concert as well to watch a bunch of high school seniors trot across a stage in matching robes.
Come the end of summer, someone will have to haul Mike somewhere in Colorado, depending on where he decides to go to school. No biggie.
I, of course, chose something a little bit difficult, and with us not having anyone to do the heavy lifting around the house, the situation was conferred upon by the family and a decision was reached.
Uncle Mike hauled me all the way to Chicago, sat through a breakfast in which I’m pretty sure he thought I would never stop crying, and then drove home. But he did get to see the Cubs. It was awkward. Mike and Brian and little Mike sat there eating and I sat there bawling. Not having been around teenage girls in awhile, I’m sure they were scared.
So this year, I’m hauling myself out. Uncle Mike, I’m sure I’ll miss you and I’m sure I’ll appreciate the long haul you guys made even more than I already do. I was too busy crying to even think about anything but the imminent end of my life. (which actually didn’t end right there)
I was telling Danny that I was going to blog about Uncle Mike and he started laughing. He loves you guys, for some reason I think he likes you the best. You’re yin and yang. It’s nice. But I told him that Aunt Jan will read this and then yell “Michael! Michael!” and make him come read it. He laughed a little harder after that.

I opened the refridgerator this morning and there sat, untouched, a blueberry pie. I have my suspicions as to its origin, but I am eating it, regardless of the fact that it stayed in our house untouched for a period of some hours and may be poisonous. It doesn’t taste poisonous at all.

The weekend ended with a bang, as dawn fell over the city Tuesday morning, we fell asleep cradling sweet dreams. Three hours later, the alarm he’d set for me went off, jarring me from what seemed like thirty seconds of sleep. The trek to the airport included wild conversation, a recap of the weekends events, the boys carrying my bags for me during that six block hike. The hugs, the smiles, I walked down into security with a smile on my tired face. Bloodshot eyes, rumpled hair, wearing the same clothes I’d worn the night before during our adventures through the city. I didn’t want to leave, spent the last minutes before the departure slowly sipping Gatorade and nibbling on a PowerBar, attempting to ease my tired stomach.
Danny and I have discontinued our relationship at my request. I no longer wish to be with someone that I no longer love.
The same feelings I had at this same time last year, and the same person nonetheless, are back and making me realize I’m not settled in yet, it’s not quite right. Something is waiting for me, but not him.
I told Danny we weren’t going to talk this weekend, that this was my time for myself, as the last few weeks have been rocky. Hunter took my phone and told me not to worry, they’d all make sure I didn’t have to think about Danny once the entire time I was there. I smiled and didn’t think of Danny once.
Saturday, in the crowded dorm room, the music loud, drinks flowing, people in and out of the door at all times, he pulled me into the space that had been cleared for dancing and we did just that. The dancing became a frenzy, the room engrossed. Arms flailing, legs moving wildly became the norm. Girls and boys on the table, the couch, dancing, girls and boys standing in the kitchen, sipping. The song ended and he kissed me. I couldn’t hide the smile. Last year, it was perfect, but he had her. Last semester, we hung out, but he wouldn’t because of Danny.
Now something is telling me that maybe being alone won’t be so bad; I’ll be alright.
For Emily and I, this was a wonderful time. We picked up right where we had left off, making plans and being us. I didn’t realize how much I missed her. We reminisced about last year, how it didn’t really begin until second semester. We went up to see Sarah, taking the train an hour and a half north to meet her at the station. She picked us up and it was strange to be back together. A string of curses slipped form her mouth and I realized that motherhood hasn’t changed her much. Sarah lights up around her baby, a beautiful seven month old girl, and the baby, clutching Cheerios, smiles back. It’s a wonderful thing.
I even miss Ian, who I never thought I’d even enjoy. We sat and talked for hours, and at one point, he was leaning against th elevator doors when they opened and he fell to the floor. My laughter came back this weekend, my smile, my peace.
We’re all going to look for apartments in two weeks when I get back. We’re going to try and live “Friends” style, with the girls in one apartment and the guys in the other, hopefully in the same building. If not, there’s the possibility we’ll end up mushed together somewhere in the cheapest place we can find. It’ll be wonderful.
Luckily, I missed one of the coldest winters in years. So that’ll be nice. I’m going back in two weeks, plane tickets saved for Portland now saved for Chicago, reservations made.

The rain was falling down, cold all around us, soaking through our hair and into our skin. I stood there, hefting my bag, crying a little.
There are so many loose ends left in Chicago, so many people I’ve met, so many faces. Last night, the party erupted, a loud mass of people clamoring in a crowded room. I met his eyes throughout the night, smiling. “I missed you. Things just aren’t the same without you.” Repeated. It was comforting.
I’m in the middle of attempting to extricate myself from the mess of a relationship with Danny; things aren’t going so well. He won’t let me go, and I’m too weak to know how to just cut the final strings. I am going to attempt to change my plane reservations so that I can come back to Chicago to find an apartment or something. We’re so good together, but he’s starting to be upset that I try to have other friends and another part of my life.
We’ll see.