September 11, 2002

Today, I am writing about the first anniversary of September 11th. I guess I could tell you my story of what I was doing when...but to be honest, it wasn't very different from most people's stories. And I think a lot of them can express what I went through that Tuesday better than I could anyway.

But on the first anniversary of September 11th, I had recently moved back to Brooklyn after a year and a half of living in Manhattan. My grandma, Betty Jo, had died a few weeks earier and I was still reeling from that loss. So, remembering and mourning, and missing someone loved was very fresh on my mind.

I remember walking to Flatbush Avenue to run errands or something. And the sky was super clear blue, just like the year before. Except this day was windy. Incredibly windy. And the streets were quiet. It was as if every New Yorker was walking around wrapped up in whatever they were remembering. And what each one was remembering was so singularly awful that it all added up to collective silence. Every store I went into, the people were whispering. And on Flatbush, they were mostly whispering about the wind.

One woman said that the wind was all the souls of the people who died. Blowing down the streets because they were sad and angry and didn't want us to forget them. And that's really what it felt like. Clear blue sky, no clouds, but fierce wind. And then all I wanted to do was be home in my new apartment. I didn't like the idea of walking through all those souls.

On my way home, I thought, "someday it will be 10 years from September 11, 2001". And I wondered what that anniversary would feel like.

And here it is. Here we are. Ten years later.

I don't really have an answer.

Yummy Mummies

Make me want to barf. Apparently, clueless/rude mothers are an international phenomenon. I guess I didn't realise that once you have a child and a giant stroller you have to turn in your common decency. I have a child. AND a GIANT stroller, but I haven't tried to run anyone down with my stroller yet. And I especially haven't let my child run wild on her stupid scooter thing. I hate those scooters and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure Baby E never even SEES one!

I know that children take up a lot of "brain space". But I don't think I'll ever forget that standing FOUR abreast on a not-huge, busy sidewalk is not a good idea. These Mummies, standing around talking to each other, letting their kids run around crazy, make it impossible to MOVE!

I'm all about Free Range Kids, but seriously, reign 'em in Ladies! There are cars inches away and TONS of people trying to get past you. Somebody is going to get hurt.

And it might be YOU.

I can't control what my giant bag of groceries might accidentally bump into...

Freddie Mercury is Raising My Baby

Not really...but wouldn't that be AWESOME!

My daughter's taste in music is surprisingly similar to mine. Weird right? I was a little concerned when all her stuffed-up animals refused to sing anything other than Queen today. But I've given in. No use fighting. For now.

This will either make her super cool when she gets older. Or lead her to hate all my music choices on long drives or while I wash dishes. Please let her be super cool.

Well, Hello There!

Did you miss me??? I missed YOU! Because YOU are my favorite! Don't tell the others...

So, I guess the last time I posted was in March. That's ridiculous. I'm sorry. Way too long. Hopefully it will never happen again. It's not like I was busy or anything. Or maybe I was. I can't remember. Because...I have a baby! She's a girl and she's beautiful, wonderful, super cute, hilarious, perfect, so smart, gifted AND talented!

Seriously, you should see her. I've never seen a baby better at grunting and drooling. Not to mention filling diapers like a champ! Takes after her mom!

I'm wondering if, now that I have a daughter, I'm a Mommy Blogger.

Probably not.

Technically though, probably.

Anyway, I really missed writing to you all. Also wanted to say, "Happy Birthday!" to my friend Elizabeth. I'd been thinking about writing a post again...your message finally gave me the kick in the pants I was looking for!

See you all soon!

The Pioneer Woman

This probably doesn't merit a blog post.  But it's what I'm thinking about this morning. And #1 sister-in-law isn't awake yet - so I can't just keep emailing her.  Well, I can, but she's not emailing me back...

Let me start by saying that I think PW is amazing.  She cooks like a crazy person, takes beautiful pictures, raises her 15 kids (she might just have 4), lives on a ranch, runs a media empire, and manages to post something on her blog almost everyday.  Oh, AND she homeschools. 

I don't know how all of that is possible.  She says she doesn't do it on her own - that she has a ton of help from her husband.  I have a husband.  He is helpful.  But I'm certain that I couldn't do all that.  At this very moment (9:57am, London) I am already tired.  My breakfast bowl is sitting on the couch waiting to be taken to the kitchen to join all the other dirty dishes from last night's dinner.  And Hastings is sound asleep in his cat bed.  I keep trying to wake him up to teach him how to read.  But he just doesn't seem very motivated. 

I still have to: shower, call to make an appointment, go to the veggie store, go to the butcher, wash dishes, vacuum...hmmm...I thought there were more things. 

Basically, I was thinking maybe I could hand my life over to PW.  She does such a good job with hers.  She could make me another tab on her blog, right up there with Confessions Of and PW Cooks.  

Almost a whole month...again

Ugh.  I really do mean to write more often.  And I have tons to say...I'm just lazy.  That's it.  No other excuses come to mind.

But I saw a really interesting article on cnn.com today.  Here's the link:

http://afghanistan.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/10/viral-post-pits-coverage-of-sheen-fallen-soldiers/

The article talks about the viral status going around about how while we've all been talking about Charlie Sheen, US soldiers have been dying.  The status goes on to list 4 of the fallen soldiers.

The thing is, that while I thought this viral status was thought provoking, I didn't think it was accurate.  Remember the one about Lindsay Lohan a few months ago (I actually shuddered a little bit just typing her name)?  I just assumed that both of them were along the lines of the spam email you'd get from some well meaning person about the guy who hides under your car and slashes your Achilles tendon - and then kills you.  Basically, something to think about.

Turns out - it's real.  Those four men listed actually gave their lives while I was posting quizzes about which crazy person said which crazy thing (Charlie Sheen vs Moammar Gadhafi - very funny).  So, today I'd like to thank those four men and their families - and the others you'll learn about in the article who weren't listed in the status.

I'm not really sure what else I'm trying to say.  Maybe it's this:  Charlie Sheen is crazy and a completely spoiled turd.  We shouldn't waste any more time, money or energy on him.  There are better things to do.  More important things to think about. 

Army Spc. Rudolph Hizon, Cpl. Andrew Wilfahrt, Staff Sgt. Chauncy Mays, and Spc. Brian Tabada.

A Very Special Still Waters...

Dear Readers.

It is with much sadness that I inform you that I totally shrank the crap out of my favorite sweater.  It wasn't even a nice sweater and I'm sure that style-wise, it did nothing for me.  But it was great for throwing on over a t-shirt or taking with me when I wasn't sure if what I had on would be warm enough.  Or wearing around the house.  Or wearing with my fleece so that I wouldn't have to wear my great big coat.

It was grey.  Actually.  It is STILL grey.  It's just that now, it's probably too small for my 9 year old niece.  Who is a normal size, it's not like she's a giant.  It's that my sweater is THAT small. 

I would have laughed when I pulled it out of the washer if it wasn't so horrifying!  I did laugh - until I thought, "This is not funny!  This is...horrifying!" 

I have forced my arms into the sweater (it's a cardigan, kind of) and I will eventually be attempting to button it.  I would like you all to know that there is nothing in the world more uncomfortable than damp wool.  Especially damp wool that is WAY too small for you.

So please.  When your favorite sweater says, "hand wash only".  Wash it by hand. 

I guess what I find most disturbing is that I wear, excuse me, wore this sweater ALL.THE.TIME.  Is this really the first time I washed it?

Love,
Jenny