Honey I don’t care, I ain’t in love with your hair
And if it all fell out, I’d love you anyway

I don’t know what it is with the country music this week.

I’m not sure where fall went, but if it would come back, that’d be great. It was hot today and because I didn’t expect it, it seemed even hotter. Does that make sense?

Okay, so I had a life-changing experience today. I had my first [ever] BLT. Ohmyword. How have I never had one before? We never ate them in our house while I was growing up and honestly, it just didn’t sound that good to me. Some people at work were sassing me about always eating the same things and the humble BLT came up. One of my coworkers suggested that I try it with avocado, but I think avocado tastes like firm snot, so I passed on that opportunity.
In summary: BLT for the life-altering WIN.

I’m excited about my trip, the concert and skydiving. Can’t wait.

P.S. Golden Oreos are an abomination against the Lord, all that is good and holy, and puppies. Also, world peace.

I’ll hang around as long as you will let me
(Let me, let me, let me, let me)

Our yard guy showed up at 7:25 this morning. Oops.

I’m pretty sure I sent a text message in my sleep last night. I saw it this morning and had zero recollection of sending it. It wasn’t inappropriate or anything, but I was confused when I got a response to a message I really have no memory of sending.

BREAKING NEWS: The mulcer is…I’m not sure what. It’s not an ulcer, though. That’s great news! As long as the stomach pain doesn’t wake me up again (like it did last Tuesday, at approximately 4:52 am), I am going to pretend it’s not there, and maybe it will go away. Seems like a good strategy, right? Farewell, Hal. We hardly knew ye, but that was too well.

Guess who’s getting her iPod?!

Two weeks to 71923.
Three weeks to U2.

Eight years ago, September 11 was just another Tuesday. It was a normal fall day.

I was working downtown in a 46-story building when the planes went into the towers. I remember watching a monitor in the elevator that mentioned a plane had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center and thinking, “oh what a terrible mistake!” I figured it was a small plane, perhaps a hobby pilot who lost his way among the landscape of the New York skyline.

Then the second plane.

Someone had a television (thanks Lynn J-B!) and we watched. The terror on the faces of New Yorkers, fleeing from the burning buildings, the sight and sound of those who jumped.
Horror in Washington.
A third plane down in a Pennsylvania field.

Every major American city thought they were next. Houston? Why, it’s the center of much of the nation’s energy trading and the petroleum industry. L.A.? The source of the all of the Hollywood debauchery. On and on swirled the rumors. Can you imagine an event like that in the era of Twitter and Facebook?

How many dead?
Who did this?
What is next?
And then, why?
Why?

The last question was always the easiest one to answer, even if the answer didn’t make sense.

Rage mixed with patriotism was the rule of the day for many months.
Non-christians asked Christians, “Where is your God? How could he allow this?”
Christians nodded knowingly, believing this was the beginning of the end.
Muslims were unfairly punished for just simply being. Being an adherent to that faith in those times, while often surrounded by angry, confused, belligerent Americans…those were difficult times. Those men who commandeered those planes are no more typical of most Muslims than are the far-right wingers in Christianity. (And that’s something for which to give thanks!)

The war started on September 11 continues to wage on, even though I don’t think many of us are sure what we’re fighting for, if our cause is just, or if there’s any chance of victory for us or our allies. May the lives lost on that cool September morning, and every day since, never be in vain.

When I learned to spell the days of the week, Wednesday was always broken into three parts, three letters each. I like this weekday-name the best for it’s three-part symmetry, and when I spell it, I still break it down into those three parts.

What? Is that weird?
Oh.

I went clothes shopping today for the first time in recent memory…I honestly can’t remember the last time I went out to buy something other than the clothes that suffice as my work wardrobe. To my surprise, it was a little bit of a disheartening experience. I had become quite a shopper while I lived in Arkansas. I could jet to Hot Springs or Little Rock and get a whole lot of shopping (looking/selecting/trying on/going home happy) done in very little time. I sort of knew what I was doing. Certainly, I made some missteps. (For instance, there’s a polka-dotted dress that shames me everytime I open the closet door. What was I thinking?) But by and large, I could shop, shop well, and I enjoyed it. Too much, even.

Today was a totally different experience.

Let me be the first to state that this is not entirely a bad thing, and I appreciate that. I had a general sense of I-can’t-wait-for-this-to-be-over from the moment I set foot in the mall. I used to love malls! The fact that I couldn’t find precisely what I was looking for increased my anxiety about the entire day. And it was a Wednesday! Going to the mall in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week is prime mall-time! And it still gave me fifteen different kinds of anxiety.

Certainly, I have become an Anxious Annie over the last few months, and I was shopping on my own, without my sister to talk me through different things…I guess that was part of it too: not being able to call, describe something and get some feedback. Hmm. When did I become such a wuss? It’s just clothing.

It was sort of a strange day. It was a little bit surreal to plan a day of an activity that, as far as you recall, you enjoy doing, only to find out that yeah, not so much.*

Two more days.

*I fully acknowledge that this is not a Real Problem, and this whole post is middle-class, suburban whining…it’s a “problem” I’m lucky to have, blah blah blah. It was just weird, is all.