Dang it refers to my reaction when I see that the trailer I linked to in the previous post didn't come through for those of you who smartly receive these via email. This is it.
Come visit me refers to the fact that my graduation date is Thursday May 17 2012 at 11am EST, Columbia University New York NY! I finish school the week before, and will be in New York at least through the end of May. So you should come stay with me. Sister and her husband already have announced their intention to come for a week, so you might get more hot water in the shower if you don't stay at the same time. But there it is, an invitation for free room and free tour guide. Board won't be free, because we'll be going out for every meal...
My place is quite nice. You will like it. Some new art: framed posters of my friend Alison, the promos for the art-music-fashion event she was involved in this summer in Sacramento.
When my plane came in for landing last weekend, late Sunday or rather, early Monday, the pilot came from the south into LaGuardia. The length of the island of Manhattan flashed by at increasing speed and decreasing height, and the dark of the darkness surrounding those millions of lights felt like a blessing. The rows of streets- when we got low enough, I could see all the way to the Hudson on the other side of the island-- made me feel, ironically, like a Western girl because they looked exactly the way straight crop rows look when you drive past them. Flashing past, radiating towards and away with always one pointing straight at you. Only they were yellow and red striped lanes, and there's something striking about tall buildings split into small blocks. It was the most incredible landing I ever had, and it was damn deserved after the worst travel weekend of my life. Friends don't let friends fly American Airlines.
This week I am: sick, stressed, hard-pressed for time. Also I have about 3 friends within 3,000 miles. I messed up a project and the director of my program didn't even let me finish the presentation before telling me so. Then, I turned it around into a (I think) success in 24 hours, but we'll see about that next Wednesday. Oh, Whine Whine Whine! (Wine?)
So I took a walk, had 2 sorbet bars and a veggie burger for dinner (no wine. I'm sick remember?). Then this trailer made me think, Screw this, all I want to do is read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which I never read, and I know hardly anything about the story other than It Is Not Intellectual Reading. ...I wonder why it calls to me now. Also, there is something universally attractive about the way the Lisbeth character is portrayed here- just someone different for mainstream audiences, someone strong and weak in ways we hardly ever see, someone whose motivations are different too. (I'm a fan of that.)
SO I am not beating myself up for not Going to Enough Career Fairs! Doing Enough Reading! Making Enough (any) People See the Awesome Maria! or anything else. I'm human and I need a break sometimes, so is everyone else in my program, and smack me the next time I even think I'm the only one who feels this way. I would be a robot if I could do a one-year Masters and never miss a beat or need a break.
I always feel bad for my boyfriend: if, as I assume, he reads these posts, he never gets any new material. He's the only person I talk to every day (though that's been off this week...time difference finally causing trouble) and he gets the same stuff here. Well then, a few new things: My Energy Policy professor is the former Minister of Energy of Portugal. Things are crazy on campus this week, because of all the UN activity- plenty of events as foreign dignitaries come to the city, and all the protestors that follow them. I'm too tired to think of anything else, and run the risk of just giving up on the entire post, so there's this: the boyfriend, the crazy smart sweetheart, found out today that he's a recipient of the Brown Scholarship. Here's $10,000, NBD. And it's only appropriate that that is at the end of the blog post, because it was at the end of the phone conversation too---after I told him all this stuff above.
It's not sappy to linger over memorial special editions, remembrances, photographs and testimonials. It's not gratuitous, not a superfluous self-centered exercise in tear-jerking. I think we have a hard time getting over our feeling that it is because we don't know how to fit this behavior into our "normal" selves. But it's what we are supposed to do. We should take the time to actually reflect and remember September 11th.
I haven't ever experienced it this way- I remember that day more clearly than many days a decade ago, but it didn't truly hit me before I felt like this was my city. There are so many things I love about New York, the city that I got used to in about a minute, and the people per square mile make it what it is. It wouldn't be any of the things we love without them. Those people being attacked- being destroyed, for no fault of their own- it feels more personal now that I love the city. That day and the ones that followed were so horrible, worse than the worst nightmare but real.
A few things that made me remember, taught me something, and moved me:
And, a few short video interviews and photographs with photographers --heroes as well-- that documented September 11th in New York. One simply ends with the photographer saying, "This is not a way to fight. This is something other than war."
Never forgetting means spending a little more time than is comfortable just remembering.
If you haven't been moved yet today by something simple and beautiful, there's this video of kids singing to firefighters.
I just got back to my apartment from spending the weekend in Tucson where my boyfriend lives. The Manhattan skyline was glowing so brightly against a very hazy dark sky as my bus crossed over from Queens that I thought the columns of light had been re-instated at ground zero. (I found out just now that they were- no wonder, the entire city was haloed with light. It would have been amazing if it had been a clear night, although I guess it's fitting. Ten years ago tonight the city was covered in dust and mourning.)
It is strange- on September 11, 2001, I was a sophomore in high school in Sacramento. I remember finding out in the morning before school, and being at the gym that evening and seeing the footage played over and over so many times that I just had to leave. And now I'm living in New York and coming home on this day. So even though my heart is out West, for right now, this city is my city.
I spent a good (technically long, though it didn't seem that way) weekend in Arizona- saw the boyfriend's digs, met a few of his friends, ate Mexican food, went bar-hopping and was dumbfounded by the prices. Three dollar drinks in a club at 11 on a Saturday...I couldn't believe it. On Saturday we took a drive to the top of Mt. Lemmon, overlooking all of Tucson and dotted with my favorite kind of pit stops- Geology Vista Points!
So now it's back to working hard at making the most I possibly can out of my experience in New York, and since I'm trusting the process, then this semester that means economics, statistics, career development, and policy design and management. Except for next weekend, when I'll be back on the M60 to La Guardia and heading to Reno for my cousin's wedding. Life's about family. (Sustainability, peace...they're really just about family too.) Investing in something that will go somewhere- that's what makes you happy.
