so, the bus route I take to work most days takes me right through the red cobblestones and spanish colonial facades of downtown. past the other, far less glamorous (yet somehow not all that less romantic... perhaps poignant is a better word) sights as well. I remember a time when I really wanted to live downtown, then I did for about 2 years. got a lot more intimately aquainted with this area than I ever would have thought; file that one under 'be careful what you wish for'. still, with that experience fully in the rear view now, I can't help feeling a little bittersweet about it. no one in their right mind would choose the path I took, but as one who tends to attack life on its terms; innurred to pain and bereft of fear; I keep those times in a special room inside.i don't go in there very often, because I hate the time in my family's life that they represent. still, that siren's song that is the manic side... its enough to keep me focused on marching forward on MY terms.

funny how things work out

So Y finally got her license back. such a huge collective step forward, and here I am back on the bus again. what used to be 20 minutes is back to 2 hours. to complain... no. to use the extra time wisely; to turn the negative energy into motivation; to practice tolerance for my fellow man... maybe on my good days. to march onward... therein lies the ticket. i'm going this way anyway; might as well enjoy the ride.