Days

Last time I saw snow: April 23rd
First time this year I smelled cut grass: April 27th

I mean, really, people. Snow on April 23rd?! Snow?! on April 23rd?!

Michael kept saying, "I don't know why you're surprised. It snowed in May last year." Well, if it did, I blocked it out of my memory because that *certainly* should never happen. Ever.

And April 27th is rather late in the year for the first whiff of cut grass, but then, I"m not really around grass too much here in chicago. There's, um, a bit where I wait for the bus when i'm coming home, and I walk past some corporation with a lawn some days... but... I think that's about it for my grass-exposure here in Concreteville.

Working like crazy lately, and it's not gonna slow for awhile. It's a good kind of busy, though, although it means all my side projects have slowed to a halt. I wrote a play. 76 pages. KinT likes it. He's the only of my theatre kids who's read it yet, or at least talked to me since reading it. We're going to perform it on June 26th.

I don't know yet what we're gonna be doing this fall. We should hear back about the Darst Center job this week. And we'll know about the Franciscan Partners in the next couple, I think. I'll keep you all posted on that.

E in Chicago

Elizabeth and Winn came for a visit over the weekend, and it was so cool having them here. They both look different from the last time I saw them in summer 2004. Winn has grown a beard. It looks good on him. Elizabeth has grown a smile. It looks good on her too. I mean, well, E has always been able to laugh, no matter how many things are going wrong... but now, she's... well, happy. It's really neat. And I realized that I hadn't seen her and Winn together, because they are so couple-y. I feel like I just witnessed the "After" portion of them getting together. It was nice to watch.

I feel like I went on vacation too. They took us all over Chicago, doing and seeing and eating things that have been well outside of my experience of Chicago since we've been here. Almost two years, and I hadn't seen the Art Institute, hadn't been on a Mafia tour, hadn't eaten at the oldest Italian restaurant in Chicago, hadn't been to the Oriental Museum, hadn't seen the Egyptian exhibit in the Field museum, hadn't eaten at Valois. And they took us to all these things, making us guests, which was weird since they were visiting us, but makes sense when you consider who Winn and Elizabeth are. Chicago for me and Michael has been shoe-string budgets, peace demonstrations, and gang banger youth groups. But E and Winn see Chicago as the great cultural epicenter of museums and fine dining, and they took us along for the ride.

And we played games and talked about past, present and future. They caught me up on all the gossip from back home, and damn have I missed a lot. We talked about jobs and the state of the world, and I'm fairly sure I offended Winn on more than one occassion. I keep realizing over and over that my experience of the world deviates from that of the cultural norm in America. I find some things true, and other things funny that many people find neither. But it was a great visit, and it was so, so, so good to see them.

Spring is Here.

Today the temps are in the forties, and it's rainy and altogether nasty. But I officially declare Spring to be here, because it's been several weeks now since it has snowed.

But more importantly...

I got home about 9 last night, wolfed down some dinner, tried and failed to organize prayer, and then... maybe about 9:30... Michael says, "Are you going downstairs now?" Michael and I have a room in the basement, and I hadn't yet made it down there to put my stuff up. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and said, "Yeah."

He said, "I'll go with you."

And he followed me downstairs. It seemed like it was probably significant, but I really didn't get why. Then, as I walk into our bedroom and turn on the lights, I notice something very out-of-place-looking on the bed. Two stuffed animals. No, no. Two slippers. A pair of bunny slippers!

Years ago, my younger sister Mary gave me a pair of Ernie slippers, that have lasted as long as they could, but they're starting to fall apart now (possibly due to their part in my costume of the Diablo Pereza, the sleepy devil. I still have scars on my knees from my stage antics in that character). Anyway, the Ernie slippers need to be retired, and well, it's nearing my birthday.

I got my first birthday present of the year last night, a full month before my birthday. Come birthday and Christmas times, Michael gets giddy and enters consumer society with the single-minded excitement of a kid in pool full of candy. He hates consumerism in general, consumer holidays in specific, but loves getting me presents. A month already he's been randomly asking me things like, "So, how do you feel about gadgets?" and "What's your shoesize?"

It makes me feel guilty to see the joy he gets from getting me stuff, because, well, I hate shopping for him. I mean, Michael's easy to shop for, because all you have to say is, "Michael, what do you want?" and he'll come up with maybe two or three things... but that's actually all he wants. Trying to surprise him with something is near impossible, and trying to figure out what he wants without asking him is like trying to solve the Sphinx's riddle without even knowing what the riddle is. I don't look on shopping for Michael the way that he looks on shopping for me.

But I really ought to start. Let's see... his birthday is coming up in December... as is Christmas... I'll start getting him presents now.

I wonder if he'd like some slightly used Ernie slippers.

Previously, Now, Later, and Soon

We had a job interview last week at a retreat center in Chicago. Michael and I interviewed for the position of Director, which they are planning on splitting into two positions. Together, Michael and I are the perfect person for the job, or so we think, at least.

True to Murphy's Law, Michael got a stomach virus the night before, and spent the day of throwing up. We went to the interview anyway, as Michael was determined he would be well enough to make it through. He was. But it was a near thing at the beginning, there. But after we sat down with the board and got to talking, everything went smooth and nice, and no vomitting occurred.

The next night, I got sick, and we spent the rest of the week in bed. I haven't been properly hungry since last Wednesday, but I was able to eat well enough over the weekend. Declaring myself fit once again, I headed into work today. I felt fine yesterday. Tired, sure, but I was even able to get out and go to the store. I just hadn't thought about how that trip had been followed by me going back to bed. I had set my laptop up in bed so that I could get writing done while shrouded in blankets and pillows. I wasn't sleeping or anything.

But the bus ride to work today nearly exhausted me. It's going to take a bit to get my energy level back up. Ah well... such is recovery.

I had to return Harry Potter Y La Cámara Secreta to the library today, unfinished. Sigh. It takes so much longer to read in Spanish, and I've been so busy. And I have other excuses too, if you'd like to hear them. I picked up two books of poetry. One called, "I Am the Darker Brother", which is an anthology of African American poets. One called, "Prophet", which is a poetry/prose translation from Arabic about a prophet leaving a city he'd lived in for years to return to his homeland, and all about his last words to the city before he left. I started reading that one at lunch. It's beautiful.

This week at work, I am trying to get all my classes and everything set up for the rest of my time here, which is dwindling. I know I need to think about that. But I can't. I think about what I"ll do next without thinking about the fact that I'll be leaving here--even if it's only to cross the city, but especially if it is to cross the country or the world. I can't even make myself look at how much time I have left. I can't bear to figure it out. I keep telling my teens that we'll think about that later, but not yet. It's always later, later, later.

But I know it's getting to be soon.

I have to think about something else. It's pretty outside. And I want a cup of coffee. And tomorrow is Dad's birthday.

Happy Birthday, Dad!