.writings. .old. .daily. .old. .daily.


This started out as an email, but turned into something more in the process of writing... I guess I have a lot to say.

I wish I was one of those people who could master words right now. I think of things to post, my reaction, and it all comes out 'blah' in the end.

Work is having a gathering this morning in memorial of the event. (Is anyone else running out of words to use here? 'event', 'tragedy', 'disaster', 'attack'.) I've work all black twice this week just because it happened to be what I was wearing, so I realized as I was getting dressed that it would be inappropriate today not to.

I was also afraid to go to the gathering at all this morning, considering ways to "hide" and avoid it, which I knew would look incredibly insensitive, when in reality it was the opposite. I didn't trust myself emotionally around a lot of people I don't know that well yet.

After the fact now though, I was okay and there were tears around me. It helps to see other people react as well, other than carefully prepared speeches and statements. I'm planning to go to the memorial at the Seattle Center this weekend. I'll have to look up the details, but I read that people are bringing cut flowers to fill the international fountain. It works so well symbolically, I think, being the International fountain. Hopefully I will be bringing people, but I'll still go alone if necessary.

After the gathering, Karla asked in conversation if I have a religion. I gave her the official answer, which is Undecided, but when I decide I'm sure it'll be some sort of Pagan. Actually I know a bit more than that so undecided probably isn't the right term anymore (possibly Deciding), but I don't have a name. I don't want to be arrogant and associate myself unintentionally because of some ideas i have knowing nothing really about theirs.

Anyway, I believe in personal goddesses, and I admit I mostly stole that idea. Suddenly I realized that this has the answer for one of the big questions of Christianity, the "Why does God let bad things happen?" I see the goddess, still unnamed for me, as a guide and role model (part of why I prefer a female deity), but not as all-powerful. I imagine she is grieving with the rest of us.

I heard the quote (though from far back so I can't be absolutely sure), "We'll never be normal again." I disagree here. The human race is amazingly resilient. I am sort of interested to see how things return to usual one small step at a time, when the TV will be put away at work... when another news story will dominate. I can't see that happening for a long time with all the aftermath to come. If we get through this without anything else horrible happening, i will be surprised. I wanted to say 'happily surprised' but every time I hear some sort of 'happy' news I then want to cry because that could be considered happy in the situation - another survivor found out of thousands?

Andrew said something beautiful Wednesday, which I told him he must write down somewhere. He told me he saw a shooting star while walking up to my house, so he wished that this would all end peacefully.

People gather around the TV at work, which has been sitting out since Tuesday. I like the people here. In fact I feel somewhat distant for not letting myself be emotional with them, but this isn't my place. I will buy flowers for the fountain. Last night I had to give up on a huge portion of my email and mass delete one list. It seems like they will take anything and turn it into something to argue over, and in this case they were talking about what actual people who were about to die should and shouldn't have done. It was almost unhuman. I couldn't handle that.

Really couldn't handle that. I didn't think I'd even fall asleep for a long time.

Izzy offered to come over after work for hugs and to tuck me in. I have to always remember I have wonderfully amazing friends. I ended up telling him I was going to bed and would leave the door unlocked. And he did come over and be comforting while I was mostly asleep, then tucked me in with the stuffed leopard I had just bought at Toys r Us. It's supposed to be a gift but I can use something cuddly right now.

I put a candle outside with the others on my block when I got home, hours after 7:00 which the email going around said. Inside I lit my goddess candle.


I've been in extreme-cuddly mood this week, sort of recovering from Bad Things last week that are best not mentioned. Sunday at the Vogue brought me back up and to keep myself there.. Monday I stopped by Jeremy's after my belly dancing class, watching him and Andrew finish their game. Tuesday I took advantage of my spot at the end of Izzy's bed. Wednesday is usual Vogue night, Thursday I should be happy for the break, and Friday is David and Michaela's house cooling party. Saturday I should see Selina. Between all the things he wants to or has to do, I've known better than to expect to see Andrew at all Saturday.

And that's where things get....

I've known it's getting close to one year since we met. I was going to figure out that date and let him know with plenty of warning that I want to do something that day. Sappy girl thing, so be it. Date was sooner than I expected, and, it's this Saturday.

I guess this is just another one of those big signs that I'm not supposed to get so attached....


Michael made me crave Thai food tonight. I was already thinking I would have to go out (little grocery store, or big grocery store) because there was no food in the kitchen, but once we stared talking about Thai, I knew exactly what I had to have. So, even though I'm on an unemployed budget, and shouldn't have been going out again, I picked up pad see ew from Broadway and ate at Izzy's, while he subjected me to weird music videos.

I had a happy cat moment on the way, though it really makes me miss my baby cat. I ran into Einstein's identical twin next to a bus stop, black cat, exactly the same size. Einstein (Q-boy)'s a pretty normal sized cat, though a bit thicker, muscular with a bit of extra fat to be a happy indoor-outdoor Maine kitty. I held out my hand and the cat came over and rubbed on me without even asking who I was first.

I want to go back and take that cat home now.

I know I write amazing things in my dreams. I'm sorry to lose them, because they might not make sense in real life, but I know they were at least real words. I am not limited to myself when I write poetry in my sleep, because my subconscious is writing for all the parts.


Waiting to get off the bus, I read a poem about leaving to go east. Go east? I never considered that it was possible. If you worship the sun, you rise in the east and set in the west.


I was on the bus reading about web usability when Scruffy-Looking Man sitting behind me leans over the seat and asks, "How many months are you?"

My mind is still on webbiness. Months? Months on the web? It made me think of asking a child their age, but if the answer is in months, they'd be too young to answer. "Months?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, you're not pregnant, sweetheart?" I think he called me sweetheart. I'm thinking I'll never wear this purple dress again while he says something about his psychic powers being off. He says something a about a little girl, while I'm trying to get back to reading, but really wondering how I could've looked pregnant to him with my lap covered by my backpack and a book.

Unless I forgot about an alien abduction in the last couple days, he is definitely wrong.

A few seconds later he leans back over, "Are you in school?"

I get this question a lot. "No." I'm not wanting this to end in a conversation, so I leave off the "I graduated two years ago." that I always feel required to add. (I think it translates to, "Yes I look young, but I've already been through college, by going to a two year art school.")

A bit later he's given up on me and wakes up a guy across the isle to compare 8-ball key chains.


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