U-C

The White Guy's in town.  We got pizza and beer the other night.  Such a relief to spend time with someone who knows me.

It seems like people here, with the exception of my therapist, either think I'm some kind of saint because of the prison work -- or they know nothing about me at all.  Exhausting.

I know that the WG cares about me and thinks I'm a generally good person, but it's also kinda nice that he's seen me be stubborn, selfish, pissed off, arrogant, etc.

He moved to Chicago around the time that I moved to SF.  He asked me what I think about Champaign when I visit now.  Good question.

When I visit Champaign, it's fucking awesome.  Sooo many people that know me.  Major relief.  Restorative.  Lunch and beers and dinners and church and coffees and couch-sitting.

But it's easy for me to remember how lonely I was the last couple of years that I lived there.  And I'm really sure that I can't go back.  Even though I'm not sure where I'm going. (Or even where the hockey-puck I am right now.)

summer bucket list

The WG asked me to write a summer bucket list, what I'd like to do in that 90 day period.  He wisely began his message with an acknowledgment of how the phrase "bucket list" is just harrible.

I'm gonna think about that.  I do love lists.  And I just got a car, so I gotta think of places to drive it.  (It kinda looks like my Nana's car.  I liked it way better when I remembered that.  And it's called "super white.")

One of the things that should be on my list is getting some dang writing done every once and a while.  I wish at least once a week that I had an extra hour to write something here.