Wow, it really is over.

The PCA, that is.

There is a certain air of melancholy decisiveness in my playpen right now. I knew Peter Cetera was playing in New York, but I figured it was in a big city like NY, NY. I had no desire to go there because it was too far for my liking and too big. It turns out it's in Verona. Tonight I found out exactly where Verona is. It's barely 4 hours from where I live!

I rushed into Aflac's den and told him about it. He asked if I wanted to go. To my amazement, the sound that emanated from my throat was not one of excitement. It was one of indecisiveness. I actually said, "Unghhhh.... well, he's so CLOSE... I *never* thought he'd ever perform this close."

I realized that Aflac was in the middle of his racing game so I walked away. My head drooped. My heart ached. I felt sad and didn't know why. At first I wondered if perhaps I was worried about the money I'd spend on tickets and the gas to get there and back. But then I remembered how much money I spent on plane fare to get to Chicago scarcely over two years earlier. I FOUND the money because it was so very important to me. So I know it's not the money. It's my life. Things have changed drastically in the past few years, especially this past one.

For years I listened with the highest devotion to You're The Inspiration. It's a wondrous song, crafted of the finest vocals and perfectly suited instrumentation and effects. It seemed that at every turn of my young and sad life, that song helped drag me through the roughest times. Delighted was I to find that Peter Cetera was the voice behind the song. The internet was barely budding at the time. I knew it as "PC Link" but did not subscribe because we had no money back then. How ironic that the personal computer I so cherish also bears the same initials as Peter Cetera, yet PC Link never provided me with any links to PC! Yet without being online, I gathered information on Peter with Chicago and on his own, about his family, about his music, his history, his life. Admittedly, I had a crush on him, I was even obsessed, and it carried past my teenage years.

Then I did get online and found out that I wasn't alone. I met so many fellow fans in my first "newbie" year! They were wonderful, talented, and kind people. Many were in music themselves. I met one of my best friends while scouting out more information on my favourite musician. We lived on opposite sides of the U.S. but the Internet made our friendship real. My life was changing. I had more information available to me than ever before.

And then I found out he was touring. It was a dream come true. In 2003, I boarded a plane for the first time with a ticket I bought myself. My mother did not believe I'd actually fly to Chicago to see Peter. She knew I was obsessed, but she didn't think I was adventurous enough to dare venture out on my own. I not only went, but I also met up with fellow fans whom I'd only known previously online. And I met my best friend. We both met halfway across the country to see Peter Cetera. It was an awesome show.

Shortly before I left, I remember feeling this sense of pending closure that I'd never felt before. I figured that if I met Peter and shook his hand and thanked him, it would somehow end an era for me. I didn't get to meet him that time and I was both saddened and relieved. The following year, however, I did end up meeting him in Braintree, MA. And somehow, as I shook his hand, had my picture taken with him, and thanked him several times, I felt that closure creeping in.

A 20 year old chapter in my life had all but closed. As I turned away that evening, I knew inside that I would never turn back.

Soon afterward, the urge to to move on and rediscover myself became stronger than ever. So much of me was based on other people. I needed to learn who I was. I needed to figure out what was wrong inside and learn to fix it, to deal with it, to understand. I needed to examine my past, let go of the unnecessary pieces, and learn from whatever was left. And in the midst of all this, I decided that I should challenge myself with one of my greatest fears: Driving.

Well, I got my driver's license in February after some sought-after, but unexpected, lessons. In fact, it will be one whole year to the day on February 9th, just six days from now. It was an exciting moment and continues to amaze me even though I've been driving since I got my truck on March 24th. Dante will be a year old soon! And Aflac, the most amazing person I've ever met, came into my life one afternoon as a handle on Yahoo. I went full-time at work, too. Everything just sorta... melded together. The sun came out to stay.

So why, then, did I feel so lost tonight, so sad, when I discovered that a big part of me really did NOT want to go see Peter in New York? I explained my concerns to Aflac (it's a casino, and said to be full of smoke, it's late, etc). He commented that sometimes it's best to keep one's most cherished memories rather than ruin them by watching someone go downhill. Everything was perfect when I saw Peter. He wasn't at his peak, but I was so excited to FINALLY see him that I didn't care. Somehow, I only needed to see him perform once, and thank him for the music. I did that and moved on. I won't turn back now.

And this made me realize that a very large part of myself was given up last year in favour of new experiences and real life. I'm no longer a sad, scared, pitiful little creature hiding behind her monitor. I'm a responsible, intelligent, spiritual, curious and optimistic person whose continuing mission is to seek out new life and new civilizations...

And you know, I'm finding more and more that the faster you work out your problems, the easier it is and the less damage it does. It's like I read on Progressive.com today - Peel off poop promptly. They explained that if you let bird poop sit there and bake, its acidity can eat through the paint of your vehicle. Good to know for my truck, but also good for life itself.

The Peter Cetera Age has turned into the Peel Off Offensive Poop Age. Hm. Poopage. I like it.

~nv