The Weekend is Isogloss, #2: Something occured to me, as I was crossing the vestubule to leave the apartment, and go to work this morning.

DIARY

It sticks, like the beginning of John:

In our lives there is routine, and our lives are routines, and we live life through routine.

With so many daily routines, it's been easy for me to lose sight of what a beautiful and spectacular year this has become. I'm living in a gorgeous apartment in a cozy, draughty building, eight stories up, looking out over urban density and lake Michigan. I'm living with one of my oldest and dearest friends, whose also become a thoroughly compatable roomate. I'm living in a dynamic, diverse, exciting environment. I'm working at a job... I can tolerate. But at least I'm working with people I like. I'm on the way up. I've made new friends. With friends I've thrown parties, held events, had thorough cranial plumbing via conversation, the best of convention, planned the Scavenger Hunt, attended the Midnight Vigil, and left the imprints of my footsteps all over Chicago. And I'm moving up. Soon I'll be imprinting my footsteps all over New York, exploring that city while I take classes to write and speak to write and learn to live through writing, all in the heart of a city that, in spite of many nicknames, easily expands to fill the title of that who "never sleeps." But several weeks ago I went home with two friends and we photographed a hidden valley and broken ruins, and that's the other extent. I'm returning to Flint in the future, and I look forward to that. Right now, I'm learning to write the Great American Novel, and it is all three, and it is so thoroughly it will make you all shiver. That weekend, I spent two nights at my parents' and we enjoyed good food, good movies, and good conversation. This reminds me that old times are not irrevocably lost and gone forever. Some of the best practices are retained, preserved. And in two months time, I will marry the girl I've been with for five years, my shimmering spark, and she is so very much that that in and of itself erases cranial blackboards when they get too dusty and cluttered and enables infinite wakefulness, alertness, as many fresh starts as anyone could ever possibly hope. For. You know. Jessica.