At work

Ahhhhhh what the hell am I doing here?! And no, that is not an existential question, I really have no idea what the f%$& I'm doing here.

Oh My Gawd!

I have HAD it with the LIRR! Rather, the people who ride the LIRR, who automatically make me associate the train with a loud, obnoxious, drunken mass of people who treat the cars as their own private frat house. This has always been a problem while coming back to the Island on the 2:55 am train, but last night was the pinnacle of the rudeness and obnoxiousness that is the Ronkonkoma-bound. The shrieking, the chanting, the pounding on the windows...these are sorry excuses for human beings. Let's not forget the "ladies," who permeate the car with their "oh my gawd" accents and their loud chatter about that night's hook-up. Shut the f*&% up! And the "gentlemen" respond with their standard macho, neanderthal chest-pounding, calling the girls bitches and what-not. When I finally switched to the Long Beach train at Jamaica, it calmed down a bit. But then a baby started crying (folks, what a BABY was doing on a 3 am train is beyond my comprehension) and while at first it was almost refreshing to hear a baby after the football stadium antics to which I had just borne witness, after several howls from the little one, it was time to shut that baby up. How a person doesn't go mad on the LIRR is a mystery.

I wish I could say I am done riding the LIRR, but unfortunately I have to endure it for several months more. I think I'll be driving to the city much more...

You wanna know why Australia rocks? Because, despite living across a whole ocean and a country, their government has issued my tax refund in such a timely fashion, I'm a little embarrassed for this country. So what if they taxed me at a ridiculous 29%, I got it all back baby!

Bored

Omigod, soooooooo bored. Contemplating creating a My Space profile just to pass the freakin' time.

In memory of 9/11/01

Five years ago I was a freshman at Binghamton University, a state university in upstate New York. On the morning of 9/11, I slept late because I didn't have class until about 11am. The first thing that happened was the phone rang. My roommate answered it and, half-sleeping, I heard her say, "You have to tell her yourself." It was my sister on the phone and she was hysterical. My first thought, funny enough, was that she had just broken up with her boyfriend. Then she proceeded to tell me what had happened: that a plane had just flown into one of the twin towers. Bewildered and confused, clearly thinking it had been an accident, I replied, "But isn't it illegal to fly planes so close to tall buildings?" She explained that it was a terrorist attack--this was before the word "terrorist" had become part of everyday lexicon, at least for a 17-year-old. I had a brief moment of panic when I heard that it was the World Trade Center. "But doesn't Dad work nearby?" I remembered that his office was just around the corner. She assured me that he was probably okay, that none of the other buildings outside the Trade Center had been harmed and that they would most likely evacuate them anyway.

I wandered, bleary-eyed, throughout my dorm suite. Every television was turned to CNN. My suitemate, Daniela, was glued to the t.v. but turned to me when I appeared at her door. "Just go back to sleep so you can dream again," she said. I saw the smoke rising from one of the towers. Shortly after, it collapsed. I don't remember when the second tower was struck or where I was at the time. I was probably somewhere in the Pitts (basement floor where I resided) of Hughes Hall, trying to convince one of my suitemates and one of my floormates not to rent a car and drive down to NYC to make sure their families were okay. Possibly, I was upstairs in my friend Heather's suite, watching "Clueless" to take our minds off the mayhem that was ensuing. During the movie (it might have been the part where Cher and Christian are watching "Spartacus"), my roommate came in to tell me that my sister was on the phone again. She had been trying to get in touch with my parents all day and finally got through to my mother, who told her that my dad's office had been evacuated and he had run uptown, away from the madness, and was safe. I finally breathed.

They were holding a candlelight vigil on campus that evening and for some reason, I didn't want to go. I just wanted to go back to sleep and forget the whole thing had happened. But I couldn't go to sleep no matter how hard I tried. I finally ran out of the dorm, across campus, and joined the vigil in the Peace Quad. Some people spoke, everyone held a lighted candle, I think some people were handing out flyers for bereavement groups. I don't remember much of what was spoken, just a lot about peace and justice and what a terrible tragedy had just happened. It was altogether a bizarre and surreal day.

I just wanted to share my experience in a purely empirical way and invite others to do the same. It's sometimes comforting to hear how others experience a similar event and talk about their coping mechanisms.

New Job AND Home

I start my new job tomorrow...really looking forward to a higher balance on my statement.

We officially move out tomorrow as well...isn't there a limit to how much change a person can handle?

And on top of all the stress, tomorrow is September 11, which 5 years ago didn't mean diddly.

House

We close today and move Monday...:::sigh:::...