St. Paul, Minnesota

I went to the Cathedral for confession and Mass tonight.
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I drove down Summit Ave on my way.
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Then I crossed over to Dayton Ave.
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I actually lived on Dayton in my 20's, in the exact same building my dad had lived in when he was in his 20's!
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I remember I was preparing for monastic life at the time and a former seminarian friend came by and we went to the Commodore Hotel for a drink - in the same bar F. Scott Fitzgerald frequented - when he was in his 20's. Wow. (Actually that never impressed me, nor did F. Scott.)
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My friend and I got really, really drunk! I know - me so holy and all! (I really did think I was.)
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I told my friend he was way too drunk to drive, so I drove - I did not have a license, nor did I know how to drive. I know!
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We returned to my apartment at high speed - I thought if I drove fast I could avoid the cops. My apartment was small and unfurnished because I embraced poverty and was an urban hermit. I slept on the floor beneath a big Charlie De Foucauld Caritas and heart I had drawn on the wall above my blankets. We both pretty much passed out I think.
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I went to confession the next day.
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I was kind of depressed on the way home thinking about all of that stuff. When you are young it is easy to go off and do stupid things, single life doesn't feel so lonely that way.