It has been an unbelievably long time since I have written or posted here. I just looked through some old posts, and was overwhelmed by nostalgia. I seem to be very good at “moving on,” forgetting bits of my past and how I felt back then. I’m constantly looking forward, and trying to change something in my life. Inevitably, I look back and wish I had appreciated and lived more in the present. This has been a theme with me for the past few years, but stopping by this place just painfully reinforces it. I must slow down and smell the roses; hopefully many tomorrows will come, but may they come slowly and fully enjoyed.
I have a 9/11 story. I was listening to NPR and a little late for work as usual. I had finished dressing and was nearly out the door, but Molly Ivins was on the radio with some biting and hilarious commentary about Bush, so I sat down on our dying futon to finish listening. Right after her story, the announcer interrupted with news that a plane had hit WTC. I was immediately interested, because I’m an air travel nerd. So then I switched on our tiny silly telly, and saw the image of the gash in the tower. On the radio and TV they were saying it may have been a cessna or small plane off course from Teterboro or EWR; it was hard to tell from the massive scale of the tower. I thought it was a small plane, too. So, after trying to wake my bf and get him interested, I headed off on the subway. It was crowded and smelly as usual (I took the R from 36th street in Queens, so until 5th avenue I could usually not breathe very well) but no one seemed to talk about what had happened. Maybe they had begun their commutes before the first impact. When I got on the elevator at work, everyone was talking about terrorism. I was perplexed, because I thought a small plane had accidentally strayed, and I thought it was silly fear-mongering to bring terrorism into it. Apparently the second plane had hit while I was in the subway.
So, needless to say, I spent the rest of the day mostly transfixed by the TV in the conference room. RJ tried to work, or at least appear normal, but most of the rest of us were too worried. Oddly, from time to time, we’d all mention that we should get away, since Midtown didn’t seem like the safest place on earth with planes falling from the sky; but we just wandered around the office glazed, trying to call loved ones, checking the TV in the conference room, refreshing news sites on the web. I vividly remember the moment the first tower fell; I thought I saw it wobble slightly for a split second, and everyone in the room must have too, because I remember the GC screaming “oh my god” JUST as the thing began to crumble. We still didn’t leave.
I was at the office until 3:30. I walked home, because I didn’t want to bother with the subway (was it working or wasn’t it?) and I wanted to look down 6th avenue as I left. All I could see downtown was fluffy clouds of smoke. I crossed 6th and was arrested by a postcard rack at a convenience store. I stopped and bought an aerial view postcard of the towers that said “WORLD TRADE CENTER” below them. It’s been on my fridge everywhere I’ve moved since then.
Crossing the Queensboro bridge on foot with thousands of others was surreal; I wish I had a camera! There were so many people, all calm as though out for a stroll. After such a traumatic morning, I felt we should all be hysterical – but I was as outwardly calm as though I was walking for exercise on a beautiful spring day.
At Queens Plaza, I checked to see if the subway was running, and it was – at least from Queens Plaza outbound. Although it was only one stop from there to home, I swiped my pass and took the train, hoping to bring a little normalcy back to that terrible, strange day.
or late last night depending on your temporal perspective, you said “I love you” for the first time. It felt so good to hear. I had been making a great effort to not say it – not because I wanted to see who could hold out longest, but because it is a very serious phrase, of a strength similar to “I promise.” Hearing those three words made my day, and probably made my life.
– sent at 12:09 pm on August 31, 2009
I haven’t written much lately. I suppose my new year’s resolution should be to write more.
The year ending today is somewhat of a blur; I don’t feel I accomplished much, though I think that’s just a feeling most people have after finishing high school and college. Besides taking and passing the bar exam and becoming a licensed attorney, this year was mostly just about being a working stiff. I read a lot of books, studied a bit, and traveled a bit.
I’d like to make a list of things I did in 2008:
– Attended the baptism of my nephew and godson Kilian
– Traveled to Virginia to attend Blythe’s wedding
– Traveled to Vancouver to spend a few lovely days sailing on Kin and Steeve’s lovely boat Corus
– Traveled to San Franciso to explore the city for the first time, and re-connect with Billy
– Traveled to Wisconsin to re-connect with Yoko, Meredith, Jackie, and other lovely ladies from my high school days
– Read many books, which I should attempt to list:
- Satanic Verses and The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie (which I bought and had signed when he spoke at the Harold Washington Library in July
- The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett
- The Long Goodbye and Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler
- Windy City by Scott Simon
- Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
- Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde by R.L. Stevenson
- God Is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens
- Tourist Season by Carl Hiaasen
- Eugenie Grandet by Honore Balzac
– Took up tennis, and got generally more active
– Enjoyed a perfect summer, and lamented the short and cold days we have now…
– Started and never finished a few blog posts, including this one
I recently heard someone on the radio whining about how no one loved her for who she is. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that she should work on becoming a better who.
I thought about what a lovely slogan this idea could be turned into, and spent a little too much time daydreaming goofy bumper stickers. Here is what I think I’ve settled on:
If no one loves you for who you are, become a better you.
It felt good to resist that part of me who wanted to respond to the woman on the radio, “Maybe that’s cause you suck, hon.”
I love this photo from so many months ago. Between courses during lunch at Maiko’s, we all splintered off and did different things. This was just a random snap. It almost looks to me like a bad scene in a terrible play; but it brings back good memories.
I found this writing, and now I have no idea when, where, or why I wrote it. May as well post it here:
Eradicate all traces.
Purge, disinfect, lament.
Lost year; lost in love; blind.
Lazy and blind. Should have ended it sooner.