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I think I need a majic talisman. Nothing fancy, just something small I can wave at my problems. Something I can fit in my pocket and hold when I'm havin' a rough day. A shiny little coping mechanism that'll make me feel better. I'm still not religious...I just need a little spiritual placebo in the form of some innocuous little bit of wood or stone that I can brandish from time to time. Juju! An interesting idea. S'fun.
So, tonight I was bombarded by my TV with images from Sept 11, 2001. Can't believe it's been five years.
I have the coolest picture to share. Really. I'm sitting here looking at it. Another dragon, inspired by these guys, among others. It's pretty and I'd love to share it, but the scanner is of course on the fritz again. Can't imagine why. Everything's dead...even the icon on my desktop is gone. Huh? This computer is, ostensibly, supposed to be my means of maintaining a web business and yet it seems that the only person who gets to use it effectively is my husband. Oh well. At least he can still sign on to E-bay, that's the important factor here. :-/
The plumbing thing went well...better than I expected anyway. The whole day cost me less than 200 dollars and these days that's a good day. *sigh* So now we have no drips and a new outside spigot and the sump is now legal in every imaginable way. Good thing! The inspector will be here first thing in the morning. I'm 60 dollars and a certificate away from officially sanctioned plumbing responsibility.
I think the sump is the very last thing we have to take care of before we are officially able to close on this house. Oh crap...let it be so.
I think the sump is the very last thing we have to take care of before we are officially able to close on this house. Oh crap...let it be so.
So, tonight I was bombarded by my TV with images from Sept 11, 2001. Can't believe it's been five years.
I have to say that the flip attitude many people have about what happened that day kind of chaps my ass a little. I still can't watch that footage without being moved. I'm old, you know? Older than I act/live/think/look, but still I'm old enough to remember very clearly sitting on my Dad's shoulders watching those towers being built. It's one of my earliest memories. I remember asking him why the building was rusty already (haha, the fire-retardant that the iron girders were painted with was a red-ochre hue and it looked like rust to me), I remember being very concerned about that. I remember my Dad saying those buildings were going to be like the Egyptian pyramids...that they'd stand forever and future generations would wonder why they were built so high.
I also remember how Dad suffered when the Edward R Murrow building was bombed. He was apalled and heartbroken...he even did a beautiful painting to exorcise his demons about it. He hated the senseless destruction and the tragedy of it all, it made him question humanity.
Dad died of cancer in April of 2001. He died sadly. Cancer is a terrible, awful disease and I watched him die and it was just about the worst thing I ever had to bear witness to.
Then 9-11 happened. And to this day the thing that I am so ANGRY about is that when I watched those towers fall I was glad that my Dad was dead. I was SO glad. I was traumatized by his passing but I think it was some kind of cosmic mercy that he wasn't alive to see what was happening to those beautiful towers in his favorite city...his home.
He loved New York City. I was born there. Our first home as a family was in Stuyvesant Town, which we loved. We would go from one end of Manhatten to the other, the whole city was open to us. More than anything, Dad loved the architecture of the city. The spire of the Chrysler Building was just about the most beautiful thing in the world to him. Even though at first he thought of the twin towers as big "boxes", once they were built he found them amazing, awe-inspiring. The were massive in a way that was almost arrogant, and that made them beautiful.
Then those bastards knocked them down and made me happy my Dad was dead so he wouldn't have to witness the destruction. I'll always be angry about that. For me, it's personal.
Which is why I'm so pissed at this administration. They used the tragedy of that day to foster a sense of fear and paranoia, and the did that (I am SURE about this) intentionally to further their purposes. The had an agenda to go to war with Iraq even before 9-11. I can't help but wonder how long it took (I doubt the fires were out in NYC) before Karl Rove began planning a media blitz linking Iraq with Al-Queda. It's purely evil. What this administration has done since those attacks on that day...well, it sickens me. Twisting the nation's fear and sadness and sense of patriotism in order to get us all on board for a war that was unfounded and mis-represented...it's like looting the corpses of the people killed on that day. It defiles their memory.
Anyway, I hate those terrorists for making me happy that my Dad was dead. I wish our government had exterminated the crazy bastards, but unfortunately this administration was more interested in handing out contracts to Haliburton than finding justice for what happened to our most wonderful American city on that day. So I guess I hate this administration just as much as I hate the terrorists. And I'm still waiting for justice. I hope I get to see a little of it on election day.
I also remember how Dad suffered when the Edward R Murrow building was bombed. He was apalled and heartbroken...he even did a beautiful painting to exorcise his demons about it. He hated the senseless destruction and the tragedy of it all, it made him question humanity.
Dad died of cancer in April of 2001. He died sadly. Cancer is a terrible, awful disease and I watched him die and it was just about the worst thing I ever had to bear witness to.
Then 9-11 happened. And to this day the thing that I am so ANGRY about is that when I watched those towers fall I was glad that my Dad was dead. I was SO glad. I was traumatized by his passing but I think it was some kind of cosmic mercy that he wasn't alive to see what was happening to those beautiful towers in his favorite city...his home.
He loved New York City. I was born there. Our first home as a family was in Stuyvesant Town, which we loved. We would go from one end of Manhatten to the other, the whole city was open to us. More than anything, Dad loved the architecture of the city. The spire of the Chrysler Building was just about the most beautiful thing in the world to him. Even though at first he thought of the twin towers as big "boxes", once they were built he found them amazing, awe-inspiring. The were massive in a way that was almost arrogant, and that made them beautiful.
Then those bastards knocked them down and made me happy my Dad was dead so he wouldn't have to witness the destruction. I'll always be angry about that. For me, it's personal.
Which is why I'm so pissed at this administration. They used the tragedy of that day to foster a sense of fear and paranoia, and the did that (I am SURE about this) intentionally to further their purposes. The had an agenda to go to war with Iraq even before 9-11. I can't help but wonder how long it took (I doubt the fires were out in NYC) before Karl Rove began planning a media blitz linking Iraq with Al-Queda. It's purely evil. What this administration has done since those attacks on that day...well, it sickens me. Twisting the nation's fear and sadness and sense of patriotism in order to get us all on board for a war that was unfounded and mis-represented...it's like looting the corpses of the people killed on that day. It defiles their memory.
Anyway, I hate those terrorists for making me happy that my Dad was dead. I wish our government had exterminated the crazy bastards, but unfortunately this administration was more interested in handing out contracts to Haliburton than finding justice for what happened to our most wonderful American city on that day. So I guess I hate this administration just as much as I hate the terrorists. And I'm still waiting for justice. I hope I get to see a little of it on election day.
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Yeah, I've been avoiding the better majority of tv with regards to the towers. That whole day was horribly surreal as well, not to mention all fo the other underlying things that came with it for me. Jim and I had just started going out, I remember my roommate's mom waking us up with a barrage of phone calls, not to mention this was the day I wound up meeting Jim's sister, who two years later passed away from cervical cancer. There are so many things connected to this day, I'm glad it's almost over.