A Cabaret Walk

Brenda and Marcela and I caught up over a pasta dinner by Marcela's house. It was nice. I'da settled for a bar and a beer, but this worked. I was able to laugh, which was good. We lamented about our impending standardized tests, rejoiced in the coming semester (well, I did, at least), and waxed nostalgic about therapy.

All in all, it was a good evening. When we left the restaurant, it dawned on me that I was just a few short blocks away from my favorite musical, Cabaret. So I decided to depart from the duo early and walk by. It had just ended so the crowd was gathered about out front, saying their goodbyes, critiquing Jon Secada as the Emcee, and waiting for the chance to have an autograph. I want to see it again very badly. I'm not sure I'd be able to prevent myself from singing out loud, though....Willkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome...

And then I passed by Cosi, a restaurant/cafe that sells great alcoholic coffee drinks and s'mores. On the way home, I pondered the meaning of The Real Thing. What is it? I used to think it was written somewhere, that it was something everyone was to follow in their pursuit for happiness in lifelong love.

But I've begun to understand in the latter portion of my 20s that The Real Thing is what you make it. It doesn't necessarily mean a house, kids, and a two-car garage in the suberb of your choice.

During the Enlightenment of Catherine 2003, I decided to seriously consider what role this real thing plays in my life. I looked at what I want and what I expect. And I decided that I want my real thing. If I'm to have a kid, named Oscar perhaps, bounding up and down a flight of carpeted stairs in my house, which, of course, sports a state of the art home entertainment system (or the one I already have, which I consider to be rather stately), then so be it. What a cool kid he'd be. And on his way up and down the stairs, if he will always have to step over the super fat tabby that occupies the first step every time, then that's what he'll have to do. As long as he likes to smile. And listen to music. And read. He'd be reading by the age of two. That's when they start reading, right?

And if I'm to finally decorate the office so my partner can do her work in peace and quiet, well then that's what I'll do. But that's just the easy part. Ok, maybe Oscar will pose a bit of a challenge, but I'd be up for it. The part of The Real Thing that I want to write for myself is the amount of depth that I want to create in that relationship.Depth that is so interwoven in the union that nothing can break through it. Mutual respect, admiration, excitement, joy, anticipation of only better things to come. Nice, huh? With all this in place, the challenges that arise will be met head on and dealt with. Anyway. The Real Thing. I want it someday. Never thought I'd be family oriented. Well, I am 30 now. I'm going to try to get some sleep. I got a call today from the academic affairs office. One of the people there who's cool (even though he didn't give me a summer job) wants to know if I'd be willing to work at school next Monday. So I have to be up early to tell him yes. Big things ahead, I tell ya. Have sweet dreams.