While watching yesterday's Sex and the City on TBS, I realized that the final two episodes will air next week, just four days before my big move. Carrie, Charlotte (the new favorite name for my firstborn girl), Samantha, and Miranda will join me in saying farewell to one life and hello to another. Two days prior to Sex's syndicated finale, I will watch 150 people transform from college students to college graduates; Luke will witness his niece's welcoming into religious life. More closed doors, more open windows.
Somehow, all of these changes led me to think about growing up in Chicago. I have always thanked God for allowing me to be part of a city so fast-paced, so electric with diversity, so free. I love riding above the city streets on the El. Love the mom-and-pop hot dog joint across the street from my family's apartment. Love the musicians who play for change while I'm waiting for the subway. But as much as I love those aspects of the city, there are others I have no experience of. The Sears Tower. I was in it once, when I was fifteen and didn't have enough money to ride to the top. No matter, I thought then. I can always go back. Yet here it is, ten years later, and I've still not done so. It's not too late for me to go, of course, but when I do, it will be with Hoosier eyes, an Indianapolis apartment, and a new appreciation for a landmark I was too busy to pay attention to before.
This babble isn't much more coherent than my ramblings from the other day, but I wonder if people don't treat everyday life the way I have treated the Sears Tower. Why is it so easy to take for granted the people and places in your pocket of the universe? What is it about distance that makes us want to cling tighter to what we have previously overlooked? I am guilty of these crimes every day: when I don't return a friend's phone call because I'm tired and want to watch TV; when my boyfriend craves a dinner that has nothing to do with spinach dip and I complain, even though he lets me have it every time we eat out. It's amazing to think about the many moments we have in one day to BE amazing and how often we do nothing.
Hamster poop. Again. Sigh.
What beautful thoughts...more like hamster babies or hamsters dancing than hamster poop.
Posted by: Anonymous | May 06, 2005 at 08:14 AM
It's kind of like how you've lived in Jasper County all this time and never toured a dairy farm.
Posted by: Luke | May 06, 2005 at 09:35 AM
But what about Jesus dancing?
http://www.jesusdance.org/
Posted by: Maura | May 10, 2005 at 06:18 PM
Reportedly the hamster dance guy made the Jesus dance site as well.See hamsters dancing here http://www.hampsterdance.com/classorig.html. Forget about seeing hamsters pooping; that's just crazy.
Posted by: Anonymous | May 11, 2005 at 07:28 PM