December 19, 2006

Mistletoe and missing snow.

Good morning, world! I am in a chipper mood, as I have my very favorite breakfast of peppered beef jerky and a Frappucino. It lets me get my carniverous urges out of the way early - yesterday I had fruit for breakfast, and ended up getting a slice of pizza for lunch that was piled high with pepperoni, ham, sausage, and bacon because I needed it. Like, primally. Then last night I had a dinner that consisted mostly of broccoli. I really like broccoli. I sort of wish I'd brought a bowl of it for lunch. Rats.

Lately I've been doing rewrites of a bunch of older X10 pages, dusting them off, polishing them up, adding a few hundred words here and there and riddling them with bullets. We're transitioning towards a style that I'm definitely liking, although it's sometimes a bit of a challenge to write in. But hey, I love a challenge! I've gotten to learn about a few interesting products too, like the Personal Assistance Voice Dialer, which is great for older relatives who can't get around too well anymore. And it's nice to have just in case, too - whatever makes you feel safer, you know?

It's six days until Christmas and I've done so very, very little shopping so far. I'm trying not to think about it. My previous Christmases have been so rushed and frantic, at least the lead-up, studying for finals, writing essays, packing for home, last minute shopping (tiny Chinese markets where I'd grab piles of trinkets for friends, bright keychain coinpurses, sheets of foil stickers, tiny watercolor sets, handmade cards, all covered in Post-It Notes and nested like Russian dolls in layers of packaging - gift bags littered with stars, cheap plastic purses, striped pencil cases, glossy makeup bags), books of stamps and trips to the post office to send out cards to other countries, Australia and England and Poland and Denmark. I miss sitting at my desk, listening to Death Cab For Cutie, surrounded by paper stock and cut out hearts and snowflakes, massacred Urban Outfitters catalogs, glue sticks and glitter.

It seemed like my time was worth so much more when it was clearly delineated and crunched down, mapped out, scheduled. Go to work and wrangle second graders, go to class and think and learn, stop off at home, maybe, or meeting with people straight on - trips uptown or dinners out or dining halls with roommates. Time existed as a tangible thing, something that passed, full of meaningful dates and occasions - now six days until Christmas is just six days, three more days of work, the weekend. It'll be nice to see my grandparents, since they're coming up, and I'm going to Portland on Friday night to meet up with some friends. Work, holiday, back to work. At least I make the off time count as best I can.

Tracing the plot finds skin touching skin, absence follows - I used to mourn not sharing a town with Ben Gibbard - it's weird when words and the people that speak them no longer mean as much to you as they once did. It's already begun to look a lot like Christmas, I think I just completely failed to notice.

December 13, 2006

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

Good morning, X10! In shocking news, I am sick. I have been off for the few days, trying to limit the reach of the hotbed of contagion which is, you know, me. I've already gotten my parents sick, and everyone I left behind this weekend ended up sick too, which makes me a huge, huge jerk for even existing. Rae has resigned herself to dating Typhoid Mary. I've resigned myself to a life of least until the next tour.

Finally made it to the doctor's office (hard to drive places when your head hurts so bad you can't sit upright) - I thought about going Lohan and getting myself hospitalized for exhaustion, but apparently only Hollywoodlanders get that one - I just get nonspecific infections. Could be backterial, could be viral, doctor said. Either way, it's sinus, throat, ear. Apparently there's nothing that encompasses all my symptoms. I was told to get motion sickness medication over the counter for the dizziness and headaches and Benadryl for the nausea, and prescription-wise it was Amoxicyllan for me, which by Mackay's estimate is small-time. Until they invent a cure for general malaise I think I'm stuck though - all I want for Christmas is a functioning immune system. And a pony!

Things I've done during the last few days of bedrest with the new and improved Video Sender:

1. Laid in bed and watched MTV Hits and Fuse, back and forth between when I wasn't dead of headache. This was happily possible only with the Video Sender, since I don't have cable in my room, and with the Video Sender's new functionality I wasn't limited to just watching one single channel - I could change channels right from my bed. Ahhh. It's important to be able to switch away from Pants Off Dance Off as soon as humanly possible, you understand.
2. Laid in bed and watched the Panic! At The Disco DVD despite not having a DVD player in my room. Seriously, this thing is great, with the remote I could even watch my favorite parts over and over without getting up. It's like the new Video Sender came out just when it knew it was needed the most in my life. Sweet.
3. Laid in bed and watched DVR-ed programs (who am I kidding - I watched Panic! on Leno and then on Fuse's Celebrity Playlist. I like what I like, okay?) despite, you guessed it, not having DVR on my bedroom TV. My god, it's like magic. I'll never have to leave my bed again! Except I'm at work updating my blog, so obviously I did leave my bed - but you know. When I get back home, glorious TV at my command, yes! Pillows and blankets and a whole wide world of entertainment, it's like I'm not even sick at all, except for all the pain and fatigue.

Moral of the story: the new Video Sender won't cure your nonspecific illness, but it will send cable, DVD, DVR, and all attendant good things to a second TV, and you can even operate all those things with our included 5-In-1 Learning Remote. It's good for sick days, good for sleepy lazy days, good for days when you don't want to get another cable box or set up another TiVo or buy another DVD player - and honestly, do you have days where you *do* want to spend a lot of extra money for something you already have? Exactly.

Other than the sickness, this weekend was great, Vegas was shiny, the afterparty was fun, San Diego was blue skies and outdoor malls and backflips off piano risers and good friends and all manner of happiness. I'm so, so sad this tour is over, and can't wait for the next one.

Until then, I'll probably spend a lot of time in bed, watching TV.

December 05, 2006

Sleepy bunny.

Long crazy weekend this last, three shows three days, two states and an another country. I'm not sure I can do that again, but what a time. My mental screensaver is the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour and oh, do I ever have a headache. I like food and sleep but I'm ultimately uninterested in either. I have to go to the mall after work and I absolutely don't want to. I feel wretched.

In X10 news, our new Video Sender is all manner of goodness, and I have spent some time today speaking of it, in between bouts of feverish madness. My forehead is warm and my hands are freezing. I'm wearing a fuchsia scarf. All I want for Christmas is still to be determined.

Insert reason for updating blog here. (Actually, the new Video Sender is pretty neat.)

She's a killer queen, hopped up on Canadian codeine.

Summary of today:
[11:56:14 AM] Owen Robinson says: ahhh
[11:56:28 AM] Sara (the copywriter) says: sigh of satisfaction or lower case scream?


November 22, 2006

It's beginning to look a lot like something-or-other.

Today, in:

Angst: My Sidekick is refusing to recognize my charger, which makes know, impossible. I have to send it in for a replacement, which is deeply traumatic, and go get a loaner phone, which is deeply annoying. Am currently waiting for T-Mobile to call me back and tell me where I can pick up my loaner, because I'm going to my grandparents' house tomorrow early, and we'll be there until Saturday, and if I don't have my Sidekick with me I will probably have a nervous breakdown and it will not be awesome.

Attendently, I used to be very insistent in my disdain for cell phones; I didn't want to be constantly available to anyone, anytime, I had things to do and I needed my freedom. Now if I'm not constantly available by phone, text, IM and email I practically get a twitch. I used to carry a notebook, now I just type things into Notes. I used to forget dates and times, now I have the Calendar function. I used to be impossible to get a hold of, now I'm so available I'm practically in your pocket. Thanks a bunch, modern technology.

a. Party: Heck yes.
b. Feast: Thank you, X10!
c. Day: I will not stress out. I will find my zen place of calm and tryptophan. Breathe in and out, etc.
d. Pardoning: Really!

Leaving early: YAY! Have a happy Thanksgiving, everybody. :)

November 13, 2006

Invisiblogging = wave of the future.

I just got back from Atlanta (again), where it was much warmer, much drier, and much more full of Panic! At The Disco concerts than Washington presently is. I was out of state for four days, flying down to Atlanta on the red eye, sleeping a bit then tromping off to the first show, which was the sort of amazing that I don't really entirely have words for, then up through South Carolina to North for the second show in Charlotte. Lovely city, from what I saw of it, and the South was lovely in general. It's warmer there, still dressed in autumn along the streets; we saw the first show at an amphitheater and the weather was fine, comfortable enough even discounting the crowds pressed in close.

I am at this very moment feeling the weight of fatigue; I'd managed to stave it off via sheer force of will, but apparently my hubristic refusal of coffee all day has finally stabbed me in the back. Or the head - I've got a tiny bit of a cold, which last night on the plane made me feel like I was being stabbed in the sinuses with large pieces of broken glass. I spent a lot of time writing on my Sidekick, tidily typing away in my hideously uncomfortable middle seats (dear Travelocity, I hate you. Boo/Hiss, Sara.) and listening to sleepy music. In the future, I will travel using the power of my mind. There's something sort of deathly about cross-country flights, you lose all sense of time. I'm not sure where today's gone - I'm not sure today's even really still here. I swear I just had it.

It's been a bit of a catchall copy day today, writing this and that and the other, whatever needs to be done at that exact moment. My head's still full of Panic! and Rae, interchangeable, intertwined, joy, joy, joy. I never understood people who could just go and see the same thing night after night (Rentheads and the like, in my head and in their words Panic! At The Disco is like a Broadway show) but if I could see that show every night I absolutely would, there's nothing I'd like more than to stand in the front row with my girlfriend and listen and watch. The weeks seem miles long - December 1st I'll be there again, oh yes.

It can't come fast enough, but in the meantime, I'm happy, unstoppably happy. Yes.

October 25, 2006

where the heartache ends and the fever, it begins.

This one goes out to all homies on the West Side - hi Mom!

It's another week in fabulous Kent, Washington, where sometimes it rains and there are multiple places to purchase submarine sandwiches. In case you ever wanted to save me the travel time and bring me a sandwich directly: I like Italian BMTs from Subway, with shredded cheese, pepperoncinis, red onions, tomatoes, and spinach when it's not infested with death. Last week Erica and I had Quizno's, where I got a Turkey Bacon Guacamole sandwich. I spent most of my life not eating avocadoes, until last Election Day when I was callled upon to try the guacamole and ascertain whether it suffered from an excess of lime; I've spent my years since fiercely determined to make up for lost time. Especially since I spent my early days in California, land of sunshine, avocadoes, and eternal youth. I miss California. I go there to regress.

Speaking of places where I'm not, I realized the other day that this is the first autumn I've spent on the west coast in five years. I'd sort of forgotten that Washington really had a fall. I think in my head Washington is just a dense forest of evergreens, which is of course not really true - there are all sorts of deciduous trees, plenty of them lining West Valley Highway alone, turning all sorts of mad colors and losing their leaves as October darkens.

I'm reminded of the east coast, of course - I always think of driving with friends, being ferried from place to place, bus rides to New Jersey (Port Authority crowds, racing through to make my bus on time, bag banging against my hip, sweating lightly under fall layers; trudging down streets, get your friends delivered. like pizza!), bus rides back. Getting lost. Teenage girls. I enjoy being a passenger, sitting back and letting someone else drive. Looking out the window, listening to someone else's music, unfamiliar streets, saltbox houses, the nice neighborhoods, pet shops, malls, churches - I have a strange love for east coast suburbs. They'd wonder why I wanted to come visit them instead of them coming to me, but it was all so simple - I just wanted someone to make me breakfast.

Thanksgivings: the first in Connecticut (half an hour away - what's the point of a state that's half an hour away?), crisp fall cold, bright blue skies, family (I did so miss my family those autumns, always trying to wrangle invitations to visit my friends at their houses - houses, homes, families, even if not my own). Donuts and fallen leaves and sunshine, board games and warmth. Washington, D.C. my second year, and my mental model of the east coast townhouse from now on - two floors, a backyard garden, big bedroom, fireplace, warm gold kitchen. Cold, borrowed scarves, the National Gallery, the embassies. I can't remember where I slept but I remember Matisse and leftover turkey salad. New Jersey the year after that - Nutley! A variety of cheeses, Apples To Apples, painstakingly sliced bell peppers (never put me in a kitchen and arm me with knives), egg rolls hot from the pan. Long Island, after, Stephanie and Freeport, then Manhassat. Steph's broken down car and the LIRR. Laundry in the basement, apple martinis, cheese. Tile. MTV.

This year I'll be spending Thanksgiving with my grandparents, which'll be nice. I hope. Sigh.

New developments in X10ery: Sarah MacKay! She slices, dices, and writes copy. I've been teaching her stuff, which is neat. On that note, in case you wanted some tips on writing more conversational copy, here are some.

Sara's tips on writing conversationally:

- Contractions are nice. Even if you have to write it more formally (if it comes more naturally to you, which it might well after years of essays) first, go over it afterwards and change every "should not" to shouldn't, and so on.
- Commas read well, semicolons and periods not so much. It's okay if they pause but you don't want to have too many stops – compound sentences are your friends. I'm a big fan of the dash, as you can see, but I don't think it's a proper sentence unless you're getting across thirteen different ideas at once, so you probably should just leave it up to your personal style.
- Read it out loud. If it sounds awkward out loud it'll probably read awkwardly too. You can get away with more in writing, that's true, but you still need to have an internal rhythm there. Think of it like poetry – iambic pentameter sounds good because it mimics human speech patterns, at least rhythmically.
- Even if your style runs toward short, choppy sentences, try and tone that down at least in the opening paragraph. Think of it as a long tumbling sequence before you stick the landing. The landing (the sale) can stop you, but on the way you need to keep going without stopping or losing your footing. You want that sort of tumbling rhythm in your opening paragraph so people feel compelled to keep reading.

And that's my advice for the day! Take it to heart. Take it to dinner - but somewhere nice, please, don't be a cheapskate.

October 05, 2006

Come on, come on, the camera's on.

Things which have happened in the last three days:

1. X10 VP Dave left an enormous bottle of Vitamin C Immune Health supplements on my desk along with the note:
"Share w/ your pod
You're killing us
- Dave"
2. Owen brought me three packets of Black Cherry Emergen-C, which he claims is some sort of magical healing powder. He has also been scolding me re: my choice of breakfasts (Corn Nuts are a valid lifestyle choice!) and bedtimes (I've been going to bed earlier! I swear!), under the auspice of my impending death.

It's like they're trying to tell me something.

Patient Zero and I have been slowly taking down the entire office. She caught the cold first, and my body's never met a virus it wasn't ready to glom onto at first detection, so naturally I got it, then we passed it over to Marko. I've had this cold for a week plus now and my throat's still scratchy, ugh. At least I have enough Vitamin C in me now to guarantee I'll never catch scurvy. Thanks, Owen and Dave!

This is why I need a wife: I'm singularly unable to take care of myself. I lived on my own for a summer and subsisted on Jell-O, Mountain Dew, and Chinese food from the place around the corner. I got only very slightly better once I was employed, because at least I was getting out of the house on a regular basis; I got into the routine of eating at the same deli every day for lunch (oh New York delis, how I miss you above all things), which had me on a pretty steady diet of Polish sausage and avocados and the melty cheese I'd steal off the top of the lasagna, and then I'd get a pint of hot and sour soup for dinner.

[Sidebar- some things I miss about living in New York:

1. The hot and sour soup from the Chinese food place around the corner from where I used to live in Brooklyn. It was really packed with chicken and tofu and like, pure tasty deliciousness, and all other hot and sour soup is a pale sad imitation.
2. Hanging out during the week. Weekends are for relaxing, maybe going to a party, but nobody really meets up on the weekends. You want to see someone, you have dinner during the week after work, or go out to a movie or something. You get lunch. Here, it's work work work all week, driving home after, dinner then TV then bed. People go to bed early. Everyone lives for the weekend. I dislike the clearly defined rhythms of suburban life.
3. Okay, Chinese food some more. $4.95 lunch specials! Chicken and broccoli with garlic sauce, pork fried rice, hot and sour soup. Five bucks! Good food! That could feed me for like, a day. It was a reason to drag myself out of the house before three on weekends, so I could catch the special and then lie around all day until it was time to get ready to go out. I miss that structured routine. And coming home bundled up in the winter cold and wrapping my gloved hands around a full quart of hot and sour soup, maybe with some fried wontons to go with it. Thawing out inside, shaking the snow from my hair and stripping off all the layers, leaning against the heater until I got hot enough to move. Oh simple bliss.
4. Writing letters in transit. I used to keep in much better touch with people when I could write letters on the subway. I have difficulty writing letters otherwise - when I'm just lying around I always feel like there's something else I could be doing. On the subway, it was pretty much listen to music or watch The Office on my iPod, but usually I defaulted to the former and wrote a six page letter to a friend or relative out of a state. Granted, I also used to do this in lecture classes. I got through college by wishing on magic fairy dust and lots of creative writing classes.
5. Walking! Walking to the subway, walking up West Broadway, walking to the Brooklyn Public Library. Headphones in my ears and a hot summer day, having a destination and getting there, walking just to walk.
6. Maple sugar candy from the Union Square Greenmarket, bitten off sweet and melting, paired with a cup of hot apple cider. Sitting in the second floor window at Barnes & Noble reading comics or paging through Greek Vogue, maybe a book of poetry or short stories, hot sugar in careful bites between Sephora-glossed lips.
7. Christmas - the windows at Lord & Taylor, the Cartier building with the big red bow wrapped around it, walking in the first snow, 8th Street with wreaths strung across from lamppost to lamppost, the crowded holiday market in Union Square.

If you can't make it there, well, you can probably make it somewhere else.]

I think I was originally posting to talk about my new Sidekick.

This weekend I picked up the SK3, which is not a "phone," per se, so much as "the personification of joy in my pocket." Internet access! IMing! Email! A camera! Music! The fact of me having one! Geez. Technology is neat.

I also, of course, have the X10 Video Calling System. What this means: I now use my computer to call people and my phone to surf the internet and check email. Life is funny. But when I'm sitting down to have a conversation with somebody, I'd rather be able to see them right in front of me, just like I want to know I have the entire internet in my pocket just in case, you know. Something. I might need it. Look, don't judge me.

September 26, 2006

while the city sleeps we rule the streets

Oh, travel. I'm thinking of those Playstation 2 commercials from ages ago, the ones imagining Playstation 9. That was clever. Along those lines, I'm ready for the X10 Teleportation System. See your friends and family face-to-face via molecular diffusion and reconsolidation. Of course, I would probably use this less to hang out with my friends and more to roll out of bed and be at work five minutes after that. Dreamy. My favorite technology is always that which allows me to be that much lazier. (For what it's worth, our Video Calling System is pretty groovy for now. Maybe they'll let me work via Video Calling! Of course I couldn't work in my pajamas and thigh-high American Apparel athletic socks, but it's still a nice idea.)

So I went to Chicago to see a show and had a pretty spectacular time. I saw two bands I like a crazy lot at a really tiny venue with a great crowd, and a bunch of guys from this other band I really like were also there, which made for a pretty surreal time all around. I spent a lot of time running around downtown with my friends, and bought a bunch of things (yay! things!) and all I really want to do now is go to more shows and buy more things and hang out with my friends. I'm ridiculously in love with Cobra Starship right now, and I need them to get more famous so I can go see them headline some shows. Therefore you should listen to them and like them and get their record when it comes out.

We Are Scientists on October 7th, then nothing for almost a month! Sadface goes here. Maybe I'll get a ticket for Cute Is What We Aim For, but that's not 'til November. Oh, life. Secretly I'm just waiting for Owen to get famous so I can be his merch girl and go on tour. Get on it, graphics boy.

Other things I'm ready for: cheaper travel, all of my friends to live closer to me, Panic!'s fall tour to start already (November 9th, why aren't you HERE YET?). Dinner. Okay, yeah, right now mostly dinner.

September 21, 2006

My love is electric, yeah.

Today, in Sara's Awesome Eating Habits: teriyaki beef jerky, an Asian pear and a cup of coffee for breakfast. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week, though probably not much longer than that, because I will be dead.

My nice older housemates - by that, of course, I mean my parents - are out of town for the week in Mexico celebrating their anniversary, so I invited a friend of mine over in hopes that she would cook for me and I would not die of malnutrition. I am unspectacular as it is as to attending to my own health, and predicted straight nights of getting home and getting online and then looking up four hours later and thinking maybe I should eat something. So Kimberly's over for the week, making sure I don't decide that just staying really still so I forget I'm hungry is a superior alternative to getting up and going to the fridge and probably eating an avocado with hot sauce and maybe caramel syrup right out of the jar for dessert.

Kimberly's been cooking me food - actual food! - so I can eat when I get home and then we chat and/or watch Veronica Mars and a lot of MTV Hits and get into socio-political analyses of Beyonce videos. Then I get wily and sneak off to talk to my [insert word here which encompasses the relationships I have with various friends around the country, originally and still to some extent based on going, "Wait, but no, why is Panic! At The Disco so good? No, seriously, I don't understand? Why are they so pretty? If I bit them, would they taste like candy, or would they shy away from me like unicorns?" on a regular basis, but which are yet so much more important than that], right, anyway, to talk to some people online and then she sidles in and reads my books and we take occasional breaks to poke inquisitively at my cat Lucy (still fuzzy? check!) and then we go to bed and it's neat, basically.

Tonight's activities include watching the season premiere of The Office (!!!!!) with Kimberly, probably shrieking and clutching each other all the while, probably finishing up the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream between the two of us, and packing. Packing! I suck at that. Hopefully I'll have the two new hoodies I ordered from Urban Outfitters - these in addition to the green one from American Apparel that Rae will be bringing me in Chicago.

Tuesday was all about intense amounts of work and also shopping remotely. The hazards of texting me to say you're in American Apparel in Atlanta: I'll be like, "Ooh get me the bright green hoodie, they don't have it online and I don't know when I'll be able to make it to AA in Seattle," and then, "Yeah, the green one like Brendon's wearing in the pre-VMAs pictures," and then, "No, the bright green one?" and then I'll get a text back that's just a picture of a hoodie and I'll go, "Yes, that one, size large, thank you, I'll pay you back" and then probably there'll be a less-than-three heart (<3) and possibly some sort of internet-slang acronym and a few decorative exclamation points.

And then after writing and rewriting some copy (working with Ben, who is not so mythical as I previously espoused) I hunted around the Urban Outfitters website and, upon failing to find the two products I wanted, used my break time to call the UO stores in Seattle and after one unsuccessful attempt, reached the 5th Avenue store, found out they had the two hoodies I wanted, did a happy dance in the back hallway and then arranged to have them sent to me. Actually going to stores is so 2005. I prefer clothing be brought to my doorstep or hotel room.

Tomorrow I fly to Chicago to see Gym Class Heroes and Cobra Starship, but more importantly, to see a bunch of my internet BFFs. Ahh, fandom means never having to be alone in any city. So, yay for hotel rooms with bunches of girls and running around Chicagoland (I've never been!) and really awesome music.

All the boys have been hawking our X10 Fantasy Sports Tracker, so I'll throw that link on the pile. If you're into fantasy sports (and the tracking thereof) go on and check that out.

Right now I'm listening to Send My Love To The Dancefloor, by Cobra Starship, and it is so good I wish I could broadcast it over the PA and let everyone hear it, and then we would all dance and a discoball would extend from the ceiling and I would sing, "Hey Mr. DJ you gotta put a record on, yeah!" and it would be awesome. The movie of my life would be packed full of lies but it would obviously be a musical and therefore better than my actual life. Usually, anyway - I think this weekend will be pretty excellent, and there's always November to look forward to. As I posted to the "Why do you work?" bulletin board, I work because Sallie Mae has a chokehold on my financial security, and also so I can afford to see Panic! At The Disco seven times on their fall tour. And so I can buy hundreds of hoodies and slouch around in them like a disaffected fifteen-year-old. Although I also enjoy the occasional satisfaction from a job well done, when I've gotten it right and been told as much, or when I can bat around suggestions that are actually listened to.

I also enjoy the emotional satisfaction of eating this Asian pear from Kimberly's pear tree. Go get more coffee? Okay!

September 11, 2006

Five years.

On September 11th, 2001, I was eighteen years old. I'd been in New York for maybe two weeks, was barely into my second week of class. That morning there'd been a fire alarm in my dorm room at six thirty a.m., and I stood out there, cold and in my pajamas, surrounded by people I didn't know. I didn't know anybody, actually; when my plane landed in NY I had no friends I knew well there and no family. My particular brand of friendliness doesn't lend itself well to group situations like the ones that formed in the first few frantic weeks on campus, when the entire fourth floor of Brittany Hall began to break into groups, a bunch of kids clinging to each other, getting fake IDs and exchanging the banalities of small talk in a desperate bid to not be alone. I walked the city, visited churches and roamed Fifth Avenue and got hopelessly lost, I went to class and tried to get to know my roommates and was constantly thirsty.

The first time I blogged was September 12th, alone in my dorm room because one roommate had gone back home to Long Island and the other had gone to the Jersey Shore with some new friends (that I didn't share). I wrote for an audience of no one but putting it out there made me feel better, even though I knew it wouldn't be read.

For awhile it seemed like that was all anybody wanted to ask me about, and all my stories are equal parts memory and words, the same practiced phrases I fell back on when people asked. In my head they're all just pictures and feelings: smoke in the sky, a candlelight vigil at dusk around the fountain in Washington Square Park, listening to the radio in my dorm room, sitting on the hardwood floor, leaning against my roommate's bed. Watching Bush make his address from inside the library, cross-legged on the cold tile. Windows closed in my room so smoke wouldn't get in. The missing person fliers that covered every spare surface, listing identifying marks (I remember a girl, Asian, pretty, worked on one of the top floors, had a tattoo of a dragon), fliers gone overnight only to spring up the next day, a riot of them over mailboxes, scaffolding, pinned to chain link fences. Everything below 14th Street was closed, and I lived on 10th. It was like a ghost town, tinted with sepia smoke, the streets deserted, no people, no cars, no noise. It was a ghost town, as much as I've ever seen one.

I think about it now and I feel weighted down. I didn't leave. I didn't lose anyone because I didn't know anyone. It was a beautiful day and I went to class, wondering about the people on the streets crowded around radios (the professor said: "We don't know what's going on," and then lectured for the full hour and fifteen minutes). I sat in the lecture hall and didn't think much of it; when we were released the crowds were larger, gathered around tables of silver jewelry and streetside booksellers, most silent, some crying, all listening to the voices on the radio. I don't remember what I did after.

I don't think about it much anymore. I didn't even realize it was today until Carrie said something. I wasn't going to blog, but I'm still here at the office. I'm not in New York anymore. The luxury is in the forgetting.

I flew to New York last week and I wasn't scared, I go to work every day and I'm not scared, I wake up in the morning and I'm not scared. That's all. That's enough.