I've noticed the changes in my thinking, lifestyle and habits. They may have happened gradually and gone unnoticed, but when I look at who I was two years ago, the changes are drastic. And here's the thing: I'm not sure if I'm moving forward, taking steps backward, or merely coming full circle. I mean, a lot of what I see in me right now reminds me of myself in high school.

As I'm walking/riding the el home from Abbey Pub last night I was thinking about my college days. I did a lot of walking then, sometimes without a destination, and forgot how much I liked it. A small drizzle started falling, large enough to be felt but small enough not to be annoying, an almost comforting spray across my cheeks. The Cure's Disintegration came on my ipod, and instantly I was transported back in time. It was 1989 all over again.

Then I got to thinking, it really could be 1989 again. Everything since then, or maybe more accurately since my graduation in 1992, I've thrown away. My affiliation with the Baptist religion, my stay in Haiti, my master's in education, my career (or lack of) in education, and other things I'm sure, have all ended without leaving so much as a lasting impact on my life. Sure, I've gained the experiences and memories from everything in that time frame which will be forever valuable to me, but what has really become of it all? What good was the direction and focus I had in 1993, which led me to do humanitarian work in a foreign country, if I find myself now without direction or so much as a plan? (A good plan.) What good has the past 15 years been if I find myself right back at the same point I was then?

Thinking of all this makes me reconsider any and every project I'm starting or want to start right now. This city, this Chicago, has awoken something in me, but what? And am I sure I want to disturb it? I don't want to start anything if it's not going to go anywhere in the next five years. And it's not going to go anywhere if I'm not interested enough in continuing it.

Here's the thing. I'm happy right now, I really am, or at least satisfied, despite everything I've written above. However, this world becomes more turbulent with each passing sound bite and Bushism. I look out my window at the rain (geeze, now it's snow...) and think how I may be looking out the same window at the same scene fifty years from now, and that scares me. I think about how that window may be gone next year, or I may be looking at a completely different scene from a completely different window, and that scares me too.

There are several things I want to do right now which could all make a living, but I can't do them all. I can't have hobbies, because my obsessive and addictive personality turn them into something more or they become something more all on their own, often oppressive, and end up consuming entire days and weeks. I need to pick one thing and do just that, but that means giving up other things I really love. Writing, photography, promotions, music, reading everyone else's blogs (yes, I've spent entire days just reading blogs) - most of them have to go.

In the meantime, I'm pretty much stopping everything until I can figure out which one it is.

Everything, that is, except this story which I'll do on Sunday afternoons or thereabout. Ha, worked it in again.

p.s. 1989 was not a good year for me. Some have told me they think the Cure's Disintegration album is upbeat, but almost every track on it seems depressing to me. Listening to it will always bring back bad memories, but I'll always enjoy it in a nostalgic "look how much better I am today" sort of way. Plus, I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with happiness. Melancholy is like an old coat, you know, the one with the bare patches... you have that new one, but you still wear this one from time to time.

listening to: the police, inxs, john lennon, flaming lips, radiohead, ted leo, david bowie.
in my sink: the same thing as earlier.