an exercise in flying time

Every now and then, the concept of time slaps me in the face and I suddenly realize that three months have gone by and I still haven't accomplished X, Y, or Z, and conveniently ignored A, B, and C, which had resigned U, V, and W to the back burner.

Ten years ago, I was just finishing up the first quarter of my sophomore year of high school. Marching band was coming to a close. In a few weeks, I would beat out upperclassmen to become first chair trombonist in the upper level concert band. The school board's decision to close Elyria West High School, and the ensuing public outcry -- both for and against -- was still months away.

Five years ago, I was in the fall semester of my junior year of college. This brought with it by far the most fun and interesting class of my college career: glassblowing (I only got burned once). It was also the first semester of my on-campus job, helping students in my dorm's computer lab. This year I would also learn that Papa John's pizza at 1 a.m. (the only pizza place in Bowling Green that delivered after midnight) will wake you out of a sound sleep at precisely 4 a.m. to drink a full glass of water. Or two.

Three years ago, I was playing piano for a local production of Forever Plaid. The cast hit it off right away, both on and off the stage. During this time, I would have my first taste of alcohol (that's right: none in college, at all). I served as pianist for this same theatre's production of Cabaret several months later, and it was members of this cast that started meeting weekly for cheap tacos at a restaurant in Lakewood. As each of us did more shows, the group grew and shrank and evolved. Excepting high school friends I rarely see, all of my current local friends are related to the "taco group" in some way.

Two years ago, I was right in the middle of a massive graphics project at work, designing the concert program for Cleveland TubaChristmas 2003 (warning: large file, 1.7 MB). Aside from being thanked profusely for my hard work and receiving a bonus, I was asked to be the pianist for the concert. Although I only accompanied a few songs, it was incredibly cool to be on the stage of Severance Hall with 100 world-class tuba and euphonium players. Among these were Brian Bowman from the University of North Texas and Ron Bishop, principal tubist of the Cleveland Orchestra, who I accompanied on their solos. Talk about an honor.

One year ago, on November 16, I saw my general practitioner about an odd, painless lump on my neck, just above the collarbone. One month later, I was fully diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, Nodular Sclerosis, Stage IIa and began planning a schedule for chemotherapy and radiation.

Six months ago, I was about to finish up chemo and was beginning to adjust to the newfound age of 25.

Three months ago, my blog made an appearance in The Chronicle Telegram.

Two months ago, Hurricane Katrina had just begun to destroy the lives of thousands, all the while bringing this country together, only to dash it back apart, just like September 11. I was on vacation from work with no specific plans for my free time (always a dangerous notion). We had Belle put to sleep after she was diagnosed with lymphoma (incidentally, five of us on the Hodgkin's e-mail list have had household dogs and cats die from lymphoma during or not long after our own lymphoma treatments... spooky). On that same day, I bought my new car, which I still love to drive. I don't miss the T-bird. at. all.

Last week I was greeted with the news that my eyes have NOT changed in the past year, for the first time in my life since first grade. That means no need for new eyeglass lenses and I get to save about $100.

This past weekend brought two Halloween parties, a play, and my final trip to Cedar Point for the summer (total: nine). At Friday's party, I had some Papa John's pizza around 10:30 p.m. Guess what happened exactly 3 hours later at 1:30 a.m.? That's right, I had to drink an entire glass of water! On Saturday, I managed to find two hours to hike through Cascade Park and take pictures. This has been a very late autumn for foliage, and there was an odd mix of green, red/orange/yellow, and bare trees. I'll post some of my shots once I get the prints back.

And then tonight I wrote this blog post. Time flies when you're doin' stuff. Or not doin' stuff.