I can't stoooopppppp!!!!!!

Last Saturday our house turned into a vortex of travelers on the move... fifteen minutes into our evening house party/ bbq/ soiree, I sat for a quick shot of rum with a few gentlemen in my backyard. Ben had his backpack packed and his boarding pass in his pocket - in a few moments, I would walk him to the train to the airport, where he would not breathe fresh air until he would disembark 14 hours later in Berlin. Coco's brother, Christophe, and his friend Didier had just put down their bags in my living room, fresh off the plane from Paris the night before. And my friend Mike wandered in, just in from hanging out in a boat off of Cape Cod photographing whales.

I raised my glass to life being a great adventure.

Later on that night many more people would wander in and out of our backyard in various states of inebriation. This time of the year brings many visitors to Chicago. Aside from our new houseguests, my roommate's friends and colleagues drifted in to help celebrate her birthday. Friends of friends of friends of friends, who I had never met before. I saw old loves meeting again for a brief moment in my living room, having been parted by the distance the length of the Mississippi, in the same town for just one night. The city opens up as the weather gets warmer, and the heat of the sun matches the strength of the wind - and the lake is a gleaming showcase of water and light. It would be crazy to come here when the weather is cold and people stay burrowed in, bound tighter that a nut, when the skies are high pressured and gray. I am not used to inviting people into my house, meeting strangers in my own personal space. I am used to being the one doing the visiting and then coming home just for a breather, doing laundry and sleeping for hours and hours in my small dark room.

There were several elements that appeared at the party that reminded me of how close to home here I have come - my brothers arrived to sit and philosophize under the tree, and were thrust with my old skatergirl friend's newborn baby and toddler to hold for a brief moment, my old schoolmate appeared and commiserated with my old neighbor. We were on a street I have lived on for years, in a city that I have come home to every time I have traveled anywhere and I still felt the push of life in motion.

Yesterday I went downtown to an Irish Pub with the Paris crew to watch the soccer match between France and Italy. The four of us rode there on three bikes - Christophe was heroically transported on the rack they had just attached to the back of Corinne's vintage Schwinn road bike. A towel was wrapped around it for comfort and he held on for dear life as she struggled up hills and across bridges to get downtown. Her tireless efforts were shaded somewhat by the easy birdlike gliding flow of my racing bike and the girl's cruiser Didier was stylishly swooping around on.

She yelled at me for blocking the way.

"I can't stop!!!" she screeched in a nerve wracked warble, as they hobbled across the intersection. I moved forward just quickly enough to not get crashed into. After we passed the intersection, balance and composure were regained and we arrived just in time to see the start of the game and for me to finally let out my chuckle.