Pathfinding

On trail
We follow the chalk and flour
Under and among and past and through
Sweating and smiling
Singing and panting
Occasionally recalibrating
Sometimes backtracking
On-on to the celebrations
And then to other trails
In the weeks and months and years to come


Copyright 2009 Jessica Bragg

WTF, man?

I'm really kinda sick of calling the Division of Jurors in NY to explain that I haven't lived there in over 10 years. Srsly. Get it together.

I'm still alive

My health is steadily improving. My lungs are actually filling with real air!

My relationship with Thomas is still going strong and we are very, very much in love. We celebrated two months together the other day, and he brought me a balloon at work that reads "Thanks for a job well done!" He's a smart-ass.

Work is going well. My stats are slowly improving and my confidence in my knowledge is growing. I've found my informational niche and enjoy being the go-to person for my peers on a couple of topics. I also got to see some hard work pay off the other day when I made a specific caller my personal project for a portion of the day and resolved a complicated issue, getting a charity account back up and running. It felt good to get the account functional, and to solve the problem, and to have been the only one to solve the problem so far.

My trip to NYC was pretty good. I got to fulfill 3 of my 4 cuisine procurement objectives, and see about 75% of the people I hoped to see. I got very drunk and left my phone in a cab, but I have my replacement and I'll survive the loss. I hashed twice while I was there, and it feels like New Yorkers do it all wrong (how's THAT for an exchange of loyalties!) I'll post about that eventually in my Hash Blog.

Updates

Health:
I am finally over the worst of the plague. I had a 102.7 fever, chills, body aches, weakness, etc, and it was pretty scary. It's settled in my chest so I have a pretty gnarly sounding cough, but I am definitely on the upswing. The really good part is that, as a result of being sick,I finished reaching one of my big weight loss goals and I am now half the weight I was when I began my journey 4 years ago.

Love:
I am still head over heels in love with Thomas. He took really good care of me while I was sick, and as a result ended up catching the plague from me. He ended up with a fever over 105 degrees, and was delirious with hallucinations at one point. He really freaked me out. I mean, I was mostly scared for his safety, but I was certainly also concerned about the possibility of being stuck with a boyfriend whose brain cells were all cooked. I mean, it's not like I could leave him after he got that way taking care of me. I keed, I keed.

Money:
Still fretting hardcore about money. I'm supposed to meet with Michael today to do taxes, but he hasn't gotten back to me. I'm really afraid we will owe again this year, and I have no idea where we'll find that money. I'm frantically juggling my bills and keep discovering ones I've missed. My plane tickets for my trip on the 18th to visit my family are paid for, but just totaling some of the incidental expenses for the trip in my head is making my stomach hurt. I put in my application for West at Home, and am hoping to get a decent assignment where a handful of hours a week will mean a little extra breathing room. I'll have to get a land line installed in order to do it, so that's an expense... sigh.

Miscellaneous:
On a lighter note, my cat gave me a back massage the other day. No joke. He was doing that kneading thing that cats do, and he was a few inches away from the part of my back that was hurting from my shoulder injury. I gently scooched a bit so his kneading would line up with it, and he gave me a really nice massage for a full minute. I wish I could train him to do that on demand.

Diving in headlong

I'm in it completely. There's no caution anymore for either of us. We're both utterly invested. I trust him to be honest and devoted and to want to give me more than any ten people could. More importantly, I just trust him entirely. I'm much more okay with this than I ever imagined I would be.

And see what he has written about me

Here, and here.

The first link is a heart-wrenching post where he tells our story from his side, and the second is the poem he wrote for me for Valentine's Day. (My gift to him was this.)

My resolve is slipping

How am I supposed to hold my ground when he makes me feel like this?








There are more pictures from The VIP party last night here.

Considering reconsideration

Well, I've stepped into it again.

First, let me catch you (all 3 of my readers) up on some events:

I'm not divorced yet. Michael and I are not getting back together, but we also haven't felt urgency about pursuing the divorce yet. We're communicating civilly, we still care about one another quite a bit, and we're being adult-type humans about the situation. This is a goodness. The last thing in the world that I want to do is cause him any more hurt. The decision to split was about stopping the damage we were doing to one another.

Since then, I have been in a few intense relationships and several peripheral involvements, all the while maintaining my sovereignty, and certain that I will be polyamorous and autonomous forever. I have been certain that I will not marry again, and absolutely never will I mix finances again... and while I have nothing against falling in love and love to do it frequently, my plan was to do it at arm's length going forward.

Plans are so quaint.

So, along comes Thomas. He works at SpendFriend too. He and I exchanged a few casual words and flirted ever so gently. He claims he recognized the chemistry first, but I caught on pretty quickly thereafter. Within days we were both certain that we were in pretty deep water. We chalked it up to New Relationship Energy at first, but before long we realized that beneath that, we have been falling deeply, undeniably, ridiculously in love. Mentally I have been doodling hearts in my imaginary Trapper Keeper, and writing my first name and his last name, and packing his kids' lunches. One day I confessed these imaginings to him, and instead of getting a wild, cornered look in his eyes, he smiled and sighed and decided it was a beautiful concept to consider. We're both aware that it's silly to even toy with such ideas so soon, but we're opting to kid ourselves that we do it with a grain of salt and cynicism.

There's only been one other person that I fell for so rapidly and so completely. He and I got married and I spent 5 years with him. I don't regret that time. I regret that Michael and I weren't able to fix the problems as quickly as they arose. My interaction with Thomas feels that intense and that pure, and feels like a second chance at The Great Relationship.

So, here I am, giddy and optimistic, and enjoying building this gloriously fantastic construction with a man with whom I can imagine another, different, successful forever... and we come to a crack in the foundation. It's a pretty significant issue.

I had been up-front with Thomas from the beginning about my polyamory. He admired it in me, and thought that it's a great way to be. He was okay with accepting it as just another aspect of my personality, and didn't react jealously when I spoke about others I was seeing. He was understanding and supportive when I was reeling from two break-ups with the other men I had been dating. It eventually became clear to him, however, that as he fell more deeply in love with me, his ability to share me was waning. He arrived at the conclusion yesterday, that he would not be able to handle it in our relationship. He says it's not jealousy, or a need to control, or insecurity about how I feel about him. It's complicated and I almost understand how it isn't those things. I'm trying to get it.

*sigh*

Furthermore, he told me that he will not allow me to sublimate again, because he knows that I did it in a past relationship and had stated firmly that I wouldn't do it again. So, he can't acclimate to polyamory, and says he won't accept me converting to monogamy, but he's not walking away either. What am I supposed to do with this?

In my experience in mediation, I've learned that resolution is most likely to occur if both parties are predisposed to examination first and foremost of what they're willing to compromise in order to make things work. I have endeavored to do that whenever I am confronted with a dispute.

So we had a long talk. We arrived at some compromises... for now. I have a small fear that the tenuousness of the arrangement will override the purity of the connection we're establishing... and I would almost welcome that. If I could only fall out of love with him, the problem would be solved. But, I don't foresee that happening. We're too good at respectfully and productively examining differences. The connections we've made and discovered and keep making and discovering are too perfect in their formation.

...And the sex is phenomenal. I mean, really. Life-changing. Transcendent. But, anyway.

I continue to consider what I am willing to give up. I continue to consider consequences of every sacrifice, and the consequences of standing firm on individual points. I want to just surrender entirely to him, but the way that we handle this initial crisis sets the tone for every difference of opinion to come. It feels petty to weigh the details like this, but it also feels necessary.

So, what's the current status? We're good. We're together. We're in love. We're communicating. We're sharing. We're still giddy to see one another. We're not pretending that we don't have a problem, but we're also not going to focus all of our energy on beating our fists against it. It's a crossword puzzle to set down when stumped and pick up again later when perspective is fresh.

Cross your fingers for us.

Zombie Walk 2008/Zombie Trash the Dress

Pictures of me from the Omaha Zombie Walk 2008, which was also my Trash the Dress with Chris Tierney. A few of the pics were taken by other photographers, as noted below.

Photo above by Marquis de Lather.







Photo above by BoomerangThang.

Photo above from pollywogfoto.

A couple more sand pictures

Sand art

I found a nifty site called thisissand.com. I made the following picture:

Hash migration

Posts specifically about hashing stuff will now be made in my new hashing blog, Tales From the Tap.

Take my breath away

On Saturday, I believed that the trail was kicking my ass because I'm out of shape, or because I'm anemic and haven't been on top of my iron intake, or because I didn't eat that day. Well, it was probably a little of all of that, but it was also probably due to Alinia.

I'm on Alinia to treat my resistant clostridium difficile, which is a bacterium that lives in a lot of people's digestive tracts, but severely affects a very small (but growing) percentage of the population. It's amazingly tenacious in those individuals. I'm part of an exclusive set of people who are paving the way for treatment of this affliction, because doctors are throwing treatments at us and seeing what sticks. Alinia, which has previously been used to treat patients with cryptosporidium, is what worked for me last time. We'd tried a very long course of Vancomycin - I mean, thousands of dollars worth (thank God for health insurance) which worked briefly but then stopped working. Then the doctor put me on a 9 day course of Alinia, which worked like a charm and I was fine for a long while. Then I started having symptoms again a few months ago.

So, the doc has me on Alinia again... and I have been on it for 5 days with 4 to go. The problem is, I have noticed fatigue, dizziness, and an inability to draw deep breaths. Initially, I chalked it up to the reasons I listed in the first paragraph. I was out on trail in the heat, carrying a backpack, and I am not used to a lot of activity. But then in the last few days, I realized I am having trouble drawing a deep breath even while at a resting state. My fatigue is greater than can be explained from my level of activity, and I am back on the right amount of iron and eating properly.

I called the I.D. doc who put me on the stuff, and he told me that Alinia hasn't really been tested in courses of longer than 3 days. He said it's always possible that there is another reason for the shortness of breath etc, but that I should see my Internal Medicine doc to discuss it. He and I are both reluctant to take me off of the medicine if doing so will allow the c. diff to rally, especially since we don't really have a next step to try. So I made an appointment with my Internal Medicine doc for tomorrow afternoon, and I'm to keep an eye on my symptoms in the meanwhile and go to the ER if things get bad.

Just as the icing on the cake, tomorrow morning I am scheduled for an interview for a position I really want at work. I have been waiting for this posting to open for a year, and I need to get it. Now I have to do the interview all wound up from this medication and feeling like crap. This is far from optimal, but I'm still determined to ace it.

My first hash writeup

I've recently begun participating in an awesome activity on weekends. The club is called the Hash House Harriers, otherwise known as a drinking club with a running problem. A pretty decent explanation can be found here, and the site for my specific chapter (or kennel) is found here.

Here's a reposting of my first hash writeup, which was for my third hash:


Recap: Omaha Hash #323 - First Burn Hash

I'd already begun writing this when Urine Sodomy piped up and said he'd take over for Flamboyatron, but Urine was nice enough to let me write this recap since I'd already started, for which I am grateful. Y'know how it is... when someone else comes before I reach completion that's okay, as long as I get to finish too.

The day was bright and hot as we trickled into Buffalo Wild Wings. The mood was good and everyone was happy to see Hand Solo, back from the dead. Our group grew to an intimidating size - so intimidating, in fact, that the waitresses apparently were too scared to take orders, serve beers, and collect tips!

Eventually, everyone was gathered up by Cock Controller, who brought the pack out behind the BW3 and explained the marks he seemed to think he had used. He also gave the group his phone number before he sprinted off. The crowd was then entertained by Tico Taz singing a very amusing song about the days of the week and fisting. Then people wandered off for a few minutes, probably to find the men's room of every nearby establishment so that CC's number could be shared. Bronze Bunz awarded Hand Solo the Bra of Backsliding, which he manfully(?) donned.

After a short trip under a bridge and along a bike path, we reached a beer check, where Triple P caught up with us and Tico Taz fell into a hole (and didn't even get her name). Then we continued along the bike path until we saw Hand Solo doubling back along a street on the other side of a field. Being the lazy bastards we are, we gleefully cut across. The trail then meandered through a residential neighborhood where VW did some networking with the locals and gave out some of his hash cards, and Urine Sodomy got wood that lasted throughout the rest of the hash (if it lasts more than four hours, please call a doctor). We made it to a photo check we hadn't been warned we'd find, where VW promptly dropped someone's camera. Once the photos had been taken, we went on-on and were very fucking careful of thorns, as warned. Lost in Pi taught Thanks for the Mammaries a song to help her remember the digits of Pi, which is a good thing because now she knows that Pi begins with a 3. There was another beer check in some tall grass, but I was more like BUSHED Beer on Tap (AM I RITE LOL) and I decided to brave the possibility of insect bites and collapsed onto the ground. After many people helpfully offered a wide range of medical advice, we finished our beverages and then pushed through to look for the continuation of the trail.

After a while of not finding the trail, Bronze Bunz told me to go ahead and call Cock Controller, which I did. He said "go right", which I did. By the time I found the general area based on this detailed set of instructions, the pack was already picking up the marks on their own, which is a damned good thing because I wasn't very confident in the validity of "go right", anyway. Some of us climbed a gate, for which we received much ribbing from the folks who walked through the huge gap (still didn't get her name) that was two fence segments away from the gate we climbed. We then walked along a ridge until we came to the Turkey-Eagle split. All but a few folks decided to go for the Eagle. At the last minute, No Name Samantha and friends decided to switch to the Turkey, and did so by running down a steep hill. (Well - running down most of it... Sam decided that the last several feet might be more fun to traverse on her head.) Where the Turkey and Eagle met up, there was a Hash Halt. When the Eaglegoers finally caught up with the Turkeygoers, the pack progressed through some trees where it looked for a moment like the beer might have been stolen.

Finally we happened upon the beer at the final beer check. There was a declaration of necrophilia (from Hot Sement), and some spilling of alcohol (by Tico Taz?), and a hare was snared (though this hare was much cuter than Cock Controller, and was released back into the wild, where it was probably eaten by its mother for smelling like humans). We continued out of the wooded area and back out onto the street, where there was a K9 police car sitting on the street. Several hashers had some strangely paranoid reactions at seeing this. Hand Solo and No Name Nicki ranged out in different directions to find the trail, and the rest of the pack seemed satisfied to chill out at the corner and relax. No Name Nicki was the one who chose wisely, and the rest of us followed her up a hill and then down onto a pleasant little walking path that no one knew about. On this path, Tico Taz answered his phone to give people directions to where he believed the on-in would be, and I texted Cock Controller who had texted me because he was getting bored while waiting for us to show up. (We both drank for it later, of course.)

We then meandered through some more residential area, and into an apartment complex. A true trail arrow pointed people into a garage on one of the apartments, through which we walked to find the on-in and barbecue on the lawn on the other side. The apartment, unbeknownst to the hashers, belonged to Bush Beer on Tap (yours truly, this reporter) whose husband was there with Cock Controller, serving up grilled brats, barbecue wings, chips, and all manner of beverages.

After a short while, Urine Sodomy rounded everyone up for the circle. Violations were called, songs were sung, beers were consumed, and virgins were deflowered. Halfway through, we were joined by Hold the Meat, No Name Amber, and Deep Frodo, who brought his little hobbitlings with him. After the circle was dispersed, the hobbitlings expended copious amounts of youthful energy by running around and performing somersaults. Soon they were joined by Thanks for the Mammaries and No Name Vinie, who decided to have a drunken somersault race across the lawn, much to everyone's amusement. No Name Samantha and No Name Tasha were wrestling on the lawn as dusk began to fall.

I finally began encouraging people's departure, and people left to go attempt to find the on-after at Tico Taz's place, where I hear they finally arrived and watched some Carlos Mencia and drank some more alcohol.

In attendance were:
Cock Controller (hare)
Urine Sodomy
Penguin Pucker
Hand Solo
Tico Taz
Triple P
Bronze Bunz
Lost in Pi
Virgin Whisperer
Spring-loaded Pussy
Whack-A-Mole
Hot Sement
Bush Beer on Tap
Thanks for the Mammaries
No Name Anna
No Name Samantha
No Name Nicki
No Name Vinie (virgin)
No Name Tasha (virgin)
Hold the Meat (just for on-in)
No Name Amber (just for on-in)
Deep Frodo (just for on-in)
Frodo's hobbitlings (just for on-in)
Bush Beer on Tap's husband, Mike (whose patience and devotion are without bounds)

If I missed anyone or misspelled anyone's name, I apologize profusely. You may spank me for it at a later time. Email me for an appointment.

Love,
Bush Beer on Tap

It's about freaking time

So there are still ass hats out there who are rating me a 1 or 2, but there are far more who've actually rated me a 10 (something I never expected, especially for a picture where my thighs look so big). Even my other two pics each scored a 7.2.

Took some pics of my kitties today

First I snapped a pic of Willow sleeping. She'd been sleeping there all day.

Then I did a photo essay of Xander the cuddlewhore/camwhore:






Then I got a couple of pics of Eris before she told me to mind my fucking business.



And I got the same from Willow.

Filtering my AWA posts

Here are links to all of my writings on All Write Already!, which is a co-operative blog that some friends and I were on for a while. We would take turns furnishing a topic for the group to write about. Below are some of the stories, poems, etc that I produced, in chronological order (the better stuff is probably toward the end of the list):

Startoff post
Topic: Work
Topic: Sleep
Topic: Dinner guest
Topic: Punctuality
Topic: Pain
Topic: Color
Topic: Mistaken identity
Topic: Frustration
Topic: Carrying a torch
Topic: Hair
Topic: Emergency
Topic: Obligations
Topic: Coming home
Topic: Pirates
Topic: Hands
Topic: Tails
Topic: Renewal
Topic: Struggle
Topic: Pants (Bonus Subtopic: Stolen)
Topic: Grievances
Topic: Guilty pleasures
Topic: Piracy
Topic: What keeps you going?
Topic: Tree-climbing
Topic: Coffee/Caffeine
Topic: Storytelling
Topic: Borrowing
Topic: Muzzle
Topic: In other words
Topic: Hype

And here are the ones that my hubby wrote:

Response to the startoff post
Topic: Work
Topic: Sleep
Topic: Dinner guest
Topic: Punctuality
Topic: Pain
Topic: Color
Topic: Mistaken identity
Topic: Frustration
Topic: Carrying a torch
Topic: Desperation
Topic: Obligations
Topic: Poop
Topic: Insomnia
Topic: Cartography
Topic: Evolution
Topic: Absence
Topic: Eulogies
Topic: Renewal
Topic: Struggle
Topic: Pants (Bonus Subtopic: Stolen)
Topic: Grievances
Topic: Guilty pleasures
Topic: Piracy
Topic: What keeps you going?
Topic: Tree-climbing
Topic: Coffee/Caffeine
Topic: Symbols
Topic: Pinnacle/Peak/Orgasm/Climax
Topic: Make-up
Topic: Grit
Picture topic
Topic: Air

There were several other contributors who were also posting their work all along the time that we were posting ours, and if you enjoyed any of it I encourage you to go read the other posts. I've just been telling myself for a while that I would put all of the stuff I did for that blog together in a convenient place. Once I began, I decided to separate Michael's stuff out as well.

More proof of my geeketry

The Two Year Mark

July 27th of this year marked the second anniversary of my surgery. I have a photo shoot scheduled soon with a friend to get some really good pics, but in the meanwhile, I had Michael snap a few today. First, as a reminder, this was me before:



And this is me now:



Quite a difference, eh?

Well, duh!

Your English Skills:

Grammar: 100% Punctuation: 100% Spelling: 100% Vocabulary: 100%

Does Your English Cut the Mustard?

Better geek quiz, perhaps?

86% Geek
86%

Mingle2.com - Free Online Dating

Well, maybe... but the linking graphic sure don't like blogger.

The geek test

I score 38.2643% geekiness.

Yeah, that's right. The score is measured to 4 decimal places.

I'm not a 10

I understand that I am not a 10. I never had any illusions about being a 10. But goddamn it, I am not a 1, or a 2, or even a 3. So why the hell is this shit occurring?


It's not like I'm going to cry or anything, it just really confuses me how people think it's appropriate to be such shitheads. Who the hell rates people a 1?

Anyway, if you feel like giving me a legitimate rating, please head on over to http://www.hotornot.com/r/?eid=N8NQR8B&key=WNX and rate me. Obviously, if you feel like rating me low, I can't stop you... but please at least have the balls to post a (non-anonymous) comment here and own up to having rated me low. I'd be interested to read a supporting argument for such a low rating.

Halloween recap

This year I won no contests. My husband, however, won two on the same night.

Saturday night, we went to the game store (where I won the contest last year) and Michael won a $15 gift certificate for Most Creative Costume. He promptly spent the gift certificate on comic books and soda. Then we went to Mics Karaoke, where he won against all the guys, the most notable opponent being a guy dressed as a giant cockroach wearing a giant foam paperclip and holding a giant joint. You guessed it - a roach clip.


I was Little Red Riding Hood, and Michael was an angry robot. The angry robot costume was made from cardboard boxes covered in aluminum foil and duct tape, with dryer ducts as the arms and legs. Most importantly, there was a plastic tube that ran from the head down through the arm, so Michael could drink beverages. It was very hot inside the costume, which might be why the robot is so angry.


Michael has saved his costume and intends to wear it if there is ever a political protest in the area. He doesn't care what the protest is for. He plans to go and carry a sign that says something like "Death to Humans" in binary.


Then on Sunday, we were invited to a private birthday party at Mics Karaoke again. Since we were to see a lot of the same people, we wanted to do something different. It took a lot of convincing, but I got Michael to switch costumes with me. Michael lost his karaoke cherry singing We Didn't Start The Fire by Billy Joel (which he did extremely well, I might add) and I sang Let Me Go by Cake while in costume, and got a lot of applause, especially when I danced around. People like watching other people frolick around in uncomfortable costumes. It's just a fact of life.


On Tuesday, I brought Michael, some coworkers, and some friends to Mics for another night of karaoke and contests. Michael and I decided that the robot and Red were a little played out, so we devised another pair of costumes. We dressed as Carla Espinosa and The Todd from the TV show Scrubs.



Michael made us some badges, and I drew The Todd's tattoo onto Michael's arm, and we were set. A photographer from OmahaNightLife.com snapped a picture of us, and it came out pretty well, though I say it myself. There was no costume contest that night and I didn't win the singing contest (Becca won it and totally deserved to) but I had a very good time. Some of my coworkers noted that I was dragging ass a little the next day, but little do they know just how often I go out on a "school night" when they're not aware of it. It was actually my most productive day that week, come to think of it.

Remarkably accurate

My score on The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test:

**************************************

the Asserter

you chose AY - your Enneagram type is EIGHT.

"I must be strong"

Asserters are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.


How to Get Along with Me
Stand up for yourself... and me.
Be confident, strong, and direct.
Don't gossip about me or betray my trust.
Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side.
Give me space to be alone.
Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me.
I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack.
When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.


What I Like About Being a Eight
being independent and self-reliant
being able to take charge and meet challenges head on
being courageous, straightforward, and honest
getting all the enjoyment I can out of life
supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me
upholding just causes


What's Hard About Being a Eight
overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to
being restless and impatient with others' incompetence
sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it
never forgetting injuries or injustices
putting too much pressure on myself
getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right


Eights as Children Often
are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit
are sometimes loners
seize control so they won't be controlled
figure out others' weaknesses
attack verbally or physically when provoked
take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings


Eights as Parents
are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted
are sometimes overprotective
can be demanding, controlling, and rigid


Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele

The Enneagram Made Easy
Discover the 9 Types of People
Harper
SanFrancisco, 1994, 161 pages




**************************************

Take it!
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6711512663497470889r

Goddamnit.

Some glitch occurred and truncated the template for my blog. It's still functional, but there are parts missing and tags are unclosed. I want to fix it, but I don't know what I am doing... so I am probably going to have to start fresh. Luckily this is only the template, and the actual posts are kept elsewhere, or I'd be sad. This is merely an inconvenience, not a huge loss. I'll take care of it later, when I'm taking a break from ebaying all the stuff in my home to pay bills.

haiku

visualizing
worry without direction
is the panic back?

Five years later

Today, a coworker asked our team where we were this day, five years ago. I responded with this:

My mom’s office was in the WTC and she was in there. She got out and is, for the most part, okay. That day was one of the most harrowing I have ever experienced… and I wasn’t even there. So many people I know were supposed to be there that day and were spared by some twist of chance. Of all the people I knew in the 22 years of my life spent in NYC, only one died that day, and she was a vague high school acquaintance.

I’ve been back to NYC since 2001. I drove past the site with its gaping hole like a sore gum after a tooth extraction, and I still have trouble believing it. I vividly remember walking through the atrium, going to the shops, riding the elevator as a child to one of the offices on the upper floors where my father held me steady as I stood on a railing- my forehead pressed against the glass, looking down at the city below. It’s sad that my wistfulness is about the place and not the people… but it was an icon of my existence in NYC. It was just concrete and steel, but concrete and steel is supposed to be permanent! It’s as easy to believe that Mt. Everest is no longer around as it is to wrap my mind around the fact that the World Trade Center is gone.

If you want to see a real tear-jerker, go see the Oliver Stone movie that just came out. I cried like a hysterical child.

Oh Dear God

Fucking Mac users.

Safire on fire

I've been trying to relax. I've been trying to accept that the language is ever-changing. I've been trying to accept that the distinctions between "lay" and "lie", "further" and "farther", and "was" and "were" are being eroded. I'm trying...

...but goddamnit, I'm having a really hard time getting over the fact that everyone says "backslash" when they mean "slash", just because it makes it sound more internetty. It's. A. Fucking. Slash.

In Michael's office, slashes are "strokes" and backslashes are "whacks". They are so juvenile.


...heh. Whacks.