It seems that the world outside has become shades of gray with splashes of color on occasion. With the exception of a little sunshine earlier this week, it has been overcast, dark, and gloomy outside. I hate it. I love fall, and I love the way the season's change, but this dreariness must stop. It affects my mood, I'll be honest. When the sun is shining, I get energy and motivation and excitement flowing in every pore. When it is dreary, like it has been so often, I am tired and I want to do little except rest and relax and sleep.
Despite the lack of motivation brought on by the weather, I am trying to accomplish something in my life!
I have been taking some positive steps toward writing more as of late. I have entered a couple magazing idea articles for consideration, I have joined a freelancewriting site to hopefully drum up some business, and I have been working hard on Claudia's book to try and get that going again. It is a difficult process, but one I know I will enjoy. Hopefully I will get some positive feedback soon, since we all know how important someone saying 'yes, i want you to do this' is. I am reminded of why I love to write; it's from Stephen King's "On Writing..."
"Life isn's a support system for writing. It's the other way around."
If you haven't read the book and enjoy either King or writing at all, I would highly suggest it, for one reason. It is not just about style and grammar (although those are important parts of the book). It is about passion and doing what you love and having someone there who believes in you enough encourage you to do it, no matter how small the chances of success may be.
I am lucky to not just have one of these type of people in my life, but several, all of whom believe in me and encourage me. I know how rare that is, so to them I am grateful.
In other news, I recenly reconnected with an old e-friend. I am looking forward to catching up and sharing our stories.
10.28.2004
10.19.2004
Like Handprints on My Heart
I read this blog today from my friend Jenny and have spent the rest of the morning thinking about my college years, mostly the last one spent at 820 E. 8th Street. It was perhaps the most important year of my college experience, and I think I probably learned more in those 9 months with those 5 girls than I ever thought possible. I learned it’s always best to laugh at yourself, too, and that sometimes just getting to sleep can be a challenge. I learned that a girl can really never have enough shoes and that the Target “red & khaki” rule is a lot more fun when you share it with your housemates. I learned that classes are good, but maybe not the most important part of college, and I learned that there is nothing more precious in the world that being loved when you feel like you are at your worst.
I’ve spoken often about Liz, one of my best friends and in so many ways and ‘kindred spirit.’ In honor of Jenny’s blog, I give you the girls of 820, circa 2000-2001--
Michelle, whom I probably thought I knew reasonably well, became all the more real to me during that year. She was the most dedicated to school, and the sweetest person you could meet, even if you didn’t always understand her. Sure, she was a little naïve, but she always seemed to laugh at and with us, even when we were threatening her with dogs and heads of lettuce, the two things she feared the most. Her blend of innocence and silliness made her an interesting housemate. A fondness for pop music and country, and really wanting to make people happy, was what made Michelle who she is today. A teacher, a friend, and someone who loves to have fun. And, of course, it was her one poorly-executed event in the basement made me drop the “F-Bomb” in the CSF house…
Janel was the youngest of the 820 girls, but definitely grew up a lot the year I knew her. Today, she is the only one of us that is married and has a child. Fiery red hair and a personality to match, Janel loves her friends and will fight for them. Her “drama queen” shirt may have summed up part of the year, but I think that we all learned a lot through that drama. We studied together, watched bad 90210 reruns together, and played games. We laughed at everything, and she could always make you feel special. She fell in love with the man she would later marry that year, and giraffes decorated her half of the room. Janel stood strong, but I think took the parting of ways at the end of the year harder than any of us imagined. She lived through the next year, in a different group of 820 girls, but I don’t think it was ever the same for her.
Jenny (Ms. Mott, Menny, JMo…the list goes on and on) You have always been a friend to me. Wise beyond your years, your honest pursuit of God has taken you to the highest mountains and the lowest valleys. Your passion for music created a deep longing in your heart to fill the world with beauty, and that is something you did every day of my life.
I remember when you and Sarah came to CSF and we ran to the store to get soda. Do you remember me asking you if you could turn left on red on a one way street to another one way street, only to then discover that it was, in fact, a two way street and I’d just broken the law in a big fat way?
It was just a couple years later that we laughed and cried together through broken engagements, upside down pictures, and inside jokes. It was then that we watched too much TV and rolled our eyes at people who just didn’t get it. It was then that I laughed until I cried as I got to know you better, and that I heard you say so clearly that I was fine just the way I was. I remember the night that Guy left and I remember wanting to take that pain from your tender shoulders. I remember not saying the right words, but knowing you understood me. I remember watching you grow, though deeply wounded and hurt, into someone who really could withstand anything. I remember waking up to your laughter as you and Liz decided to find everything you could “ALF” related on the internet one night. And only your wake-up call could instill such a classic response as “indeed it is.”
Liz…what can I say that I haven’t already said? She is the glue that held me together throughout college. Sharing a room, I learned that a girl can never have enough clothes (or shoes) and that the really important things are often written in haste on scraps of construction paper (like “It’s baby time!”). Liz knows me almost too well and understands me even better. She knows that I can be emotional and probably a little irrational at times. And, she knows that sometimes the only thing to do is sit in our room and watch “Return to Me” and “Never Been Kissed.” She taught me the beauty of lightning and that no matter how bad the storm, the sun always rises. She told me that, beautiful singing voice or not, I could still praise with her. She understood that part of me was fragile, and took that part of me under her wing.
I woke up to late-night messenger conversations and she was there during the “Alf” thing, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. She was also the one there when I found out that Harry had his first heart attack and while I was waiting to hear the results of my mother’s back surgery.
We worked together, laughed together, had class together, skipped class together, and grew together. Only we could sit through some of those English classes and laugh and know that we would get good grades, simply because the prof knew we got it.
There is so much about Liz and living with her that I will never forget…and I know I won’t have to, because she’ll be right next to me through every event in my life. She recently went to NYC and saw Wicked. After seeing it, she told me that “For Good” had become her favorite song.
I’ve spoken often about Liz, one of my best friends and in so many ways and ‘kindred spirit.’ In honor of Jenny’s blog, I give you the girls of 820, circa 2000-2001--
Michelle, whom I probably thought I knew reasonably well, became all the more real to me during that year. She was the most dedicated to school, and the sweetest person you could meet, even if you didn’t always understand her. Sure, she was a little naïve, but she always seemed to laugh at and with us, even when we were threatening her with dogs and heads of lettuce, the two things she feared the most. Her blend of innocence and silliness made her an interesting housemate. A fondness for pop music and country, and really wanting to make people happy, was what made Michelle who she is today. A teacher, a friend, and someone who loves to have fun. And, of course, it was her one poorly-executed event in the basement made me drop the “F-Bomb” in the CSF house…
Janel was the youngest of the 820 girls, but definitely grew up a lot the year I knew her. Today, she is the only one of us that is married and has a child. Fiery red hair and a personality to match, Janel loves her friends and will fight for them. Her “drama queen” shirt may have summed up part of the year, but I think that we all learned a lot through that drama. We studied together, watched bad 90210 reruns together, and played games. We laughed at everything, and she could always make you feel special. She fell in love with the man she would later marry that year, and giraffes decorated her half of the room. Janel stood strong, but I think took the parting of ways at the end of the year harder than any of us imagined. She lived through the next year, in a different group of 820 girls, but I don’t think it was ever the same for her.
Jenny (Ms. Mott, Menny, JMo…the list goes on and on) You have always been a friend to me. Wise beyond your years, your honest pursuit of God has taken you to the highest mountains and the lowest valleys. Your passion for music created a deep longing in your heart to fill the world with beauty, and that is something you did every day of my life.
I remember when you and Sarah came to CSF and we ran to the store to get soda. Do you remember me asking you if you could turn left on red on a one way street to another one way street, only to then discover that it was, in fact, a two way street and I’d just broken the law in a big fat way?
It was just a couple years later that we laughed and cried together through broken engagements, upside down pictures, and inside jokes. It was then that we watched too much TV and rolled our eyes at people who just didn’t get it. It was then that I laughed until I cried as I got to know you better, and that I heard you say so clearly that I was fine just the way I was. I remember the night that Guy left and I remember wanting to take that pain from your tender shoulders. I remember not saying the right words, but knowing you understood me. I remember watching you grow, though deeply wounded and hurt, into someone who really could withstand anything. I remember waking up to your laughter as you and Liz decided to find everything you could “ALF” related on the internet one night. And only your wake-up call could instill such a classic response as “indeed it is.”
Liz…what can I say that I haven’t already said? She is the glue that held me together throughout college. Sharing a room, I learned that a girl can never have enough clothes (or shoes) and that the really important things are often written in haste on scraps of construction paper (like “It’s baby time!”). Liz knows me almost too well and understands me even better. She knows that I can be emotional and probably a little irrational at times. And, she knows that sometimes the only thing to do is sit in our room and watch “Return to Me” and “Never Been Kissed.” She taught me the beauty of lightning and that no matter how bad the storm, the sun always rises. She told me that, beautiful singing voice or not, I could still praise with her. She understood that part of me was fragile, and took that part of me under her wing.
I woke up to late-night messenger conversations and she was there during the “Alf” thing, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. She was also the one there when I found out that Harry had his first heart attack and while I was waiting to hear the results of my mother’s back surgery.
We worked together, laughed together, had class together, skipped class together, and grew together. Only we could sit through some of those English classes and laugh and know that we would get good grades, simply because the prof knew we got it.
There is so much about Liz and living with her that I will never forget…and I know I won’t have to, because she’ll be right next to me through every event in my life. She recently went to NYC and saw Wicked. After seeing it, she told me that “For Good” had become her favorite song.
I can understand why. And, after this morning, reflecting on life at 820 and listening to “Worship’s Greatest Hits, Disc 1” I can’t think of anything more appropriate…
(Elphaba)
I'm limited
(Elphaba)
I'm limited
Just look at me - I'm limited
And just look at you
You can do all I couldn't do, Glinda
So now it's up to you
For both of us - now it's up to you...
(Glinda)
I've heard it said
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew youI have been changed for good
(Elphaba)
It well may be
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
(Glinda)
Because I knew you
Because I knew you
(Both)
I have been changed for good
I have been changed for good
(Elphaba)
And just to clear the air
And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the thing I've done you blame me for
(Glinda)
But then, I guess we know
But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
(Both)
And none of it seems to matter anymore
And none of it seems to matter anymore
(Glinda)
Like a comet pulled from orbit
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
(Elphaba)
Like a ship blown from its mooring
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood
(Both)
Who can say if I've been
Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better
(Glinda)
And because I knew you...
And because I knew you...
(Elphaba)
Because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
(Both)
Because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.
10.18.2004
The Final Day...a Summation
Okay, so it’s been weeks, and I still haven’t finished my vacation update. Here’s the final day:
Monday:
We got to NYC and took a cab to Michael and Maartje’s apartment complex. We didn’t want to carry our luggage around all day, so they said we could leave it with their doorman and he’d take care of it for us. I was a little nervous about it, but the other option was dragging our luggage through the city for ten hours, so we left it there and went to the Empire State Building. After about two hours in one line after the other, we finally made our way to the top. It is an interesting view (especially considering you’re 86 stories in the air). I took lots of pictures and marveled at how a city teeming with so many people and buildings could manage to stay afloat; it is an island, after all. J
We took quite a few pictures and then headed back down and proceeded to walk up 5th avenue…we went to St. Patrick’s Church and Rockefeller Center, stopping to look at a really amazing piece of art…walking to the sky…I loved it. I took a couple pictures, but it didn’t seem to justify it at all. I’ll see if I can find a good link on-line somewhere for it…and then to Trump Tower and the red-marble bathrooms (probably the nicest public restrooms in all of Manhattan…at least the kind where you don’t have to buy anything to use them). And then up near Central Park. Today was spent mostly just walking around the city, around a few blocks, and taking pictures and enjoying the view. We bought souvenirs and shopped and watched people.
We stopped to eat at the “Brooklyn Diner” a fun little place in the middle of Manhattan. Our waitress actually ended up being from Columbus, Indiana of all places. While sitting there reading all the names of the famous people who had dined there, we saw a Verizon truck get towed and the tow-truck do a U-Turn in the middle of the street. J
After that, we headed down to the Studio where Letterman is filmed and took pictures of the Hello Deli since it was closed. Standing around outside, we got to see Howard Dean leaving the show. After that, it was a few last looks around the city, back into a cab to get our luggage and back out to the airport. All in all, we could have spent another hour or so in the city, but we didn’t know with traffic and stuff like that how long it would really take for us to get to the apartment, through the city, to the airport, through security, etc. Better to be safe than sorry, right?
It was a great trip, a lot of fun, and I’m glad we went. Since then, I have been hard at work catching up on life—vacations should come a lot more often…
Monday:
We got to NYC and took a cab to Michael and Maartje’s apartment complex. We didn’t want to carry our luggage around all day, so they said we could leave it with their doorman and he’d take care of it for us. I was a little nervous about it, but the other option was dragging our luggage through the city for ten hours, so we left it there and went to the Empire State Building. After about two hours in one line after the other, we finally made our way to the top. It is an interesting view (especially considering you’re 86 stories in the air). I took lots of pictures and marveled at how a city teeming with so many people and buildings could manage to stay afloat; it is an island, after all. J
We took quite a few pictures and then headed back down and proceeded to walk up 5th avenue…we went to St. Patrick’s Church and Rockefeller Center, stopping to look at a really amazing piece of art…walking to the sky…I loved it. I took a couple pictures, but it didn’t seem to justify it at all. I’ll see if I can find a good link on-line somewhere for it…and then to Trump Tower and the red-marble bathrooms (probably the nicest public restrooms in all of Manhattan…at least the kind where you don’t have to buy anything to use them). And then up near Central Park. Today was spent mostly just walking around the city, around a few blocks, and taking pictures and enjoying the view. We bought souvenirs and shopped and watched people.
We stopped to eat at the “Brooklyn Diner” a fun little place in the middle of Manhattan. Our waitress actually ended up being from Columbus, Indiana of all places. While sitting there reading all the names of the famous people who had dined there, we saw a Verizon truck get towed and the tow-truck do a U-Turn in the middle of the street. J
After that, we headed down to the Studio where Letterman is filmed and took pictures of the Hello Deli since it was closed. Standing around outside, we got to see Howard Dean leaving the show. After that, it was a few last looks around the city, back into a cab to get our luggage and back out to the airport. All in all, we could have spent another hour or so in the city, but we didn’t know with traffic and stuff like that how long it would really take for us to get to the apartment, through the city, to the airport, through security, etc. Better to be safe than sorry, right?
It was a great trip, a lot of fun, and I’m glad we went. Since then, I have been hard at work catching up on life—vacations should come a lot more often…
10.15.2004
A Picture of Nothing...The World Trade Center Site
Ground Zero
How do you take a picture of nothing? How do you photograph something that once was? How do you reconcile your memories of something with the reality that is now apparent? How does an entire city find the strength to continue living through tragedy?
These were all questions that flew through my mind as I looked at the hole in the city where the World Trade Center twin towers used to stand. This was a moment of my vacation that I had been both looking forward to and dreading. Walking down the street, looking toward nothing, my heart began to get heavy. Soon, we were there. And where majesty once soared to the sky, there was emptiness. Part of the city that I remember being shadowed by giant buildings were exposed to the sun. And there, surrounded by fence after fence, was Ground Zero.
Even writing about it today, my eyes brim with tears. I wish I could explain the sadness, the heaviness, the disbelief that shrouded my heart. My face pressed to the fence, I looked into the deep void where so many people had died. I looked into the mighty craters created by the buildings and their destruction and I wondered how anyone went on after that day. I looked at what, in any other scenario, would be nothing more than a construction site and instead saw the mass grave of 2,000 people. I knew their bodies were not there—in fact the rubble and remains were either in a landfill nearby or in a coroner’s office, awaiting identification. So many families still have no closure, so many people want nothing more than a few ashes to bury, a symbolic way of saying goodbye to those they loved that will never come home.
The tears came without warning, even though in my heart I knew they would fall. I could see the images burned into my mind on that warm September day 3 years ago. I could see people jumping from the 83rd story because they did not want to burn to death; I could see firefighters and policemen stunned into silence as first one tower and then the other fell to the ground. People and buildings covered with ash and debris, unsure of what would happen next.
As we continued walking around the building, I saw the plaques with the names of the people who had perished there. I read through some of them slowly, again unable to see through my tears. The fence is covered with photographs depicting the rise and fall of the World Trade Center. And, even though there are a few obvious ‘tourists,’ there is still a silence and a reverence that is unmistakable. Sure, cameras are clicking and people are talking, but when they look into the hole, there is silence and understanding and almost reverence.
There is a piece of the World Trade Center erected just inside the fence. It is a familiar image. It is the cross that was discovered amongst the rubble; pieces of the iron grid that formed an almost perfect cross. It stands there, looking over the crater and looking over the lives lost and the terror stricken, as if to remind everyone who goes to that place that God is there, that, like the song said, He was with each person when the towers fell. He held those he loved and who loved Him close, whispering words of peace into their fearful hearts. It strikes me as powerful that in a diverse and multicultural and religious city like New York, no one has said ‘take the cross down.’ No one has questioned why it is there and what it means.
I could have stood there forever, just taking in the feelings I felt--Emotions that were so raw, they hardly seemed real. I did not know a person who died that day, but now, more than ever, I carry my own sense of loss about what happened on September 11, 2001.
You can walk around much of the site, and then, once inside the repaired Winter Gardens, you can truly see down and into the hole. Again, I was moved to tears. I will never understand what happened that day. I will never understand how anyone could even dream of something so diabolical, but I will also never forget.
How do you take a picture of nothing? How do you photograph something that once was? How do you reconcile your memories of something with the reality that is now apparent? How does an entire city find the strength to continue living through tragedy?
These were all questions that flew through my mind as I looked at the hole in the city where the World Trade Center twin towers used to stand. This was a moment of my vacation that I had been both looking forward to and dreading. Walking down the street, looking toward nothing, my heart began to get heavy. Soon, we were there. And where majesty once soared to the sky, there was emptiness. Part of the city that I remember being shadowed by giant buildings were exposed to the sun. And there, surrounded by fence after fence, was Ground Zero.
Even writing about it today, my eyes brim with tears. I wish I could explain the sadness, the heaviness, the disbelief that shrouded my heart. My face pressed to the fence, I looked into the deep void where so many people had died. I looked into the mighty craters created by the buildings and their destruction and I wondered how anyone went on after that day. I looked at what, in any other scenario, would be nothing more than a construction site and instead saw the mass grave of 2,000 people. I knew their bodies were not there—in fact the rubble and remains were either in a landfill nearby or in a coroner’s office, awaiting identification. So many families still have no closure, so many people want nothing more than a few ashes to bury, a symbolic way of saying goodbye to those they loved that will never come home.
The tears came without warning, even though in my heart I knew they would fall. I could see the images burned into my mind on that warm September day 3 years ago. I could see people jumping from the 83rd story because they did not want to burn to death; I could see firefighters and policemen stunned into silence as first one tower and then the other fell to the ground. People and buildings covered with ash and debris, unsure of what would happen next.
As we continued walking around the building, I saw the plaques with the names of the people who had perished there. I read through some of them slowly, again unable to see through my tears. The fence is covered with photographs depicting the rise and fall of the World Trade Center. And, even though there are a few obvious ‘tourists,’ there is still a silence and a reverence that is unmistakable. Sure, cameras are clicking and people are talking, but when they look into the hole, there is silence and understanding and almost reverence.
There is a piece of the World Trade Center erected just inside the fence. It is a familiar image. It is the cross that was discovered amongst the rubble; pieces of the iron grid that formed an almost perfect cross. It stands there, looking over the crater and looking over the lives lost and the terror stricken, as if to remind everyone who goes to that place that God is there, that, like the song said, He was with each person when the towers fell. He held those he loved and who loved Him close, whispering words of peace into their fearful hearts. It strikes me as powerful that in a diverse and multicultural and religious city like New York, no one has said ‘take the cross down.’ No one has questioned why it is there and what it means.
I could have stood there forever, just taking in the feelings I felt--Emotions that were so raw, they hardly seemed real. I did not know a person who died that day, but now, more than ever, I carry my own sense of loss about what happened on September 11, 2001.
You can walk around much of the site, and then, once inside the repaired Winter Gardens, you can truly see down and into the hole. Again, I was moved to tears. I will never understand what happened that day. I will never understand how anyone could even dream of something so diabolical, but I will also never forget.
10.14.2004
More Vacation Stories
Saturday
Saturday, we got up at a ‘regular’ time and had free breakfast at the hotel. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was free, so who am I to complain? After breakfast, we drove back down to the ocean. It was overcast and a bit cold, but still so relaxing. I rolled up my jeans and took off my shoes and walked through the sand, collecting shells, taking pictures, and breathing in the salty air. We only stayed at the beach for a little while before getting in the car and beginning our journey across New England in search of changing leaves.
After spending close to an hour in very slow traffic (3 lanes becoming 1 lane), we were moving again. Tim and Kurt were anxious to find a little hamlet in Massachusetts named “Sandwich.” It’s true; they were enthralled by the quest to find the “Sandwich Police.” When I get the picture from Kurt, I will be sure to post it for your enjoyment, as well.
Once the Sandwich quest was completed, we got back on the road and spent the rest of the day driving around the less-than-superhighway roads and looking at the trees as they began the slow process of changing from brilliant greens to vibrant oranges and reds. We were a little early to see the leaves in all of their splendor, but there were two great spots, one where the leaves had already turned bright red and another where we happened upon a rather large and fast-moving river out of nowhere.
After a day of driving, we found our way to the Quality Inn (I would highly suggest this hotel if you’re looking for one; it was great!) and rested.
Sunday
Day one in New York.
We drove to Stamford, hopped back on the train, and arrived once again at Grand Central Station in New York City. Even for a Sunday morning, the hustle and bustle of the city was obvious. We walked around a bit, got our bearings, and began walking toward the Empire State Building. We got there and the sign said there was a 75-90 minute wait, which would put us close for meeting Tim’s friend Michael and his wife, Maartje (pronounced Marcha) for our picnic in Central Park.
So, we decided instead to get our subway metro card and head down to Washington Square, one place I wanted to see the first time I went to New York, but didn’t get around to seeing. It is right outside the NYU campus. We took pictures, and walked around SoHo a little bit before heading to Chinatown and Little Italy. J Canal Street, I’ll admit, was not as crazy as I remember it being. However, I think this was in part because I was not there with my very excited mom and aunt. My mom can haggle with the best of them.
Anyway, we walked around Chinatown (where we saw someone peddling bootlegged copies of movies quickly shut down their store when the cops appeared) and Little Italy (where some of the streets were shut down for some festival or other). Getting off of the subway and being the only three non-Chinese people as far as I could tell was a little strange, and the change from Chinatown to little Italy is just as strange. Suddenly the streets open up much more and the people are a little more…familiar?
Anyway, it was time to head uptown to meet Michael and Maartje –we met them at the Time Warner Building (I think) and went downstairs to NYC’s largest grocery store. Lunch was to be a picnic in Central Park, a VERY New York thing to do.
I loved meeting Michael and Maartje. They were really neat people who had been in New York for several years. He is a Dr/Medical Student; she is works for a pharmaceutical company in New Jersey and is from Holland. They got married at a boat house in Central Park on the 4th of July and had their wedding pictures taken all over the park. How awesome is that?!?!
After lunch, we walked around Central Park and then headed to Ground Zero. (Again, that is the next blog to write). After leaving Ground Zero, we walked around Battery Park and took the Staten Island Ferry, a free ride, to take pictures of the city and the Statue of Liberty. I will never understand why that statue looks so small in real life, but I’ve never been up close to her, either....
It was getting dark, so it was time to hit Times Square, which is just an assault on all of your senses. It’s lit up like it is the middle of the day still and there are lights everywhere. This is the heart of New York for me…the playbills and the advertisements, the larger than life television screens and the just plain amazing array of sights and sounds. It’s right in the middle of everything, and right in the middle of my heart. I love the theater, and even though we didn’t go see any shows, just seeing the billboards and knowing that people were doing what they loved and living out their dreams on those stages, wow…it is a place that is truly beautiful and truly alive.
Saturday, we got up at a ‘regular’ time and had free breakfast at the hotel. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was free, so who am I to complain? After breakfast, we drove back down to the ocean. It was overcast and a bit cold, but still so relaxing. I rolled up my jeans and took off my shoes and walked through the sand, collecting shells, taking pictures, and breathing in the salty air. We only stayed at the beach for a little while before getting in the car and beginning our journey across New England in search of changing leaves.
After spending close to an hour in very slow traffic (3 lanes becoming 1 lane), we were moving again. Tim and Kurt were anxious to find a little hamlet in Massachusetts named “Sandwich.” It’s true; they were enthralled by the quest to find the “Sandwich Police.” When I get the picture from Kurt, I will be sure to post it for your enjoyment, as well.
Once the Sandwich quest was completed, we got back on the road and spent the rest of the day driving around the less-than-superhighway roads and looking at the trees as they began the slow process of changing from brilliant greens to vibrant oranges and reds. We were a little early to see the leaves in all of their splendor, but there were two great spots, one where the leaves had already turned bright red and another where we happened upon a rather large and fast-moving river out of nowhere.
After a day of driving, we found our way to the Quality Inn (I would highly suggest this hotel if you’re looking for one; it was great!) and rested.
Sunday
Day one in New York.
We drove to Stamford, hopped back on the train, and arrived once again at Grand Central Station in New York City. Even for a Sunday morning, the hustle and bustle of the city was obvious. We walked around a bit, got our bearings, and began walking toward the Empire State Building. We got there and the sign said there was a 75-90 minute wait, which would put us close for meeting Tim’s friend Michael and his wife, Maartje (pronounced Marcha) for our picnic in Central Park.
So, we decided instead to get our subway metro card and head down to Washington Square, one place I wanted to see the first time I went to New York, but didn’t get around to seeing. It is right outside the NYU campus. We took pictures, and walked around SoHo a little bit before heading to Chinatown and Little Italy. J Canal Street, I’ll admit, was not as crazy as I remember it being. However, I think this was in part because I was not there with my very excited mom and aunt. My mom can haggle with the best of them.
Anyway, we walked around Chinatown (where we saw someone peddling bootlegged copies of movies quickly shut down their store when the cops appeared) and Little Italy (where some of the streets were shut down for some festival or other). Getting off of the subway and being the only three non-Chinese people as far as I could tell was a little strange, and the change from Chinatown to little Italy is just as strange. Suddenly the streets open up much more and the people are a little more…familiar?
Anyway, it was time to head uptown to meet Michael and Maartje –we met them at the Time Warner Building (I think) and went downstairs to NYC’s largest grocery store. Lunch was to be a picnic in Central Park, a VERY New York thing to do.
I loved meeting Michael and Maartje. They were really neat people who had been in New York for several years. He is a Dr/Medical Student; she is works for a pharmaceutical company in New Jersey and is from Holland. They got married at a boat house in Central Park on the 4th of July and had their wedding pictures taken all over the park. How awesome is that?!?!
After lunch, we walked around Central Park and then headed to Ground Zero. (Again, that is the next blog to write). After leaving Ground Zero, we walked around Battery Park and took the Staten Island Ferry, a free ride, to take pictures of the city and the Statue of Liberty. I will never understand why that statue looks so small in real life, but I’ve never been up close to her, either....
It was getting dark, so it was time to hit Times Square, which is just an assault on all of your senses. It’s lit up like it is the middle of the day still and there are lights everywhere. This is the heart of New York for me…the playbills and the advertisements, the larger than life television screens and the just plain amazing array of sights and sounds. It’s right in the middle of everything, and right in the middle of my heart. I love the theater, and even though we didn’t go see any shows, just seeing the billboards and knowing that people were doing what they loved and living out their dreams on those stages, wow…it is a place that is truly beautiful and truly alive.
10.08.2004
Back Home Again
Back home again…
We got home from vacation late Monday night, and yes, I know it’s Friday…but I’m just now getting around to writing about the trip. How was it, you ask?
Great. Wonderful. Magnificent. Moving. Exciting.
There aren’t enough words to say to express how great and how strange it was to go on vacation with someone other than my family. It was very strange to just not be there with my mom and very strange to not have her to share the experience with, but it was also very grown up and exciting. I know, I talk about being a grown up like it’s some new thing…but for someone who has grown up in a family where family vacations are extremely important and who has always gone on vacation with them, it’s a big deal. If you’ve been reading this blog long, you know that my first decision-to not go on family vacation with my family back in July, was huge for me.
Anyway, here is what our vacation was like, day by day...
Friday
Up at 1:55 a.m. (okay, so not really “up” seeing as how I didn’t really get any sleep anyway…maybe a couple hours at the most) In the shower, dressed, and groggily out the door by 3:00 a.m. At the airport by 4 and through security, waiting to get on the plane. It’s 4:40 a.m. when we begin boarding the plane. I am the first non-airline employee on the plane. It’s going to be a somewhat empty flight, so no one can sit in front of the 5th row of seats…so yeah, apparently there is some sort of weight issue taken into account. Good to know J As we are taxing, we are greeted by “big mike” the flight attendant. Big Mike is probably 5’5” ish and not plump at all. In fact, he kind of reminds me of Michael J. Fox. As he’s going through the usual safety information, he interjects his own screams (when the air mask would fall) and mimics the recording when it says “in the unlikely event of a water landing.” Turns out he likes to fly in the early morning and be done by early afternoon, but wow…he’s just a bit too chipper for me at 5:00 a.m.
For some reason, I always think of New York as being much further away than it really is…I expect it to take a long time to get there, when in reality, you’re in the air for just under 2 hours. As the sun rises magnificently in the windows, I sip my apple juice and try and doze for a couple minutes. Soon, though, we are descending and looking for the city to appear in the windows. Soon enough if does, and I am overcome with emotion (and I think Tim got a little choked up, as well). There is New York, the city I love, and it is missing a piece. I didn’t expect the loss of the WTC to affect me profoundly. I expected visiting Ground Zero to be touching, but here I was, getting my first glimpse of the city, and I was moved to tears. It almost seemed surreal, in all honesty. It almost seemed like a bad dream. I cannot imagine living there and surviving that. (I will blog more about Ground Zero later…it deserves its own blog and thoughts).
We grabbed a cab, got to the train terminal, and got on a train bound for Stamford. In Stamford, we walked approximately a mile and ½ (and learned to NEVER trust MapQuest maps…yeah, it may look like it’s only a block away, but they take like all the rest of the streets out!!) to get the car. For only a few dollars more, we can upgrade to the Pacifica, so upgrade we do. It’s a NICE ride, I’ll be honest.
Just a mere four and ½ hours later or so, we arrive in West Dennis, MA. By this time, it’s 3:45 p.m. and we’ve been in Indiana, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. It’s been a productive 13 hours or so. :)
Annie’s Wedding
The whole purpose for this trip was to see my good friend Annie Hennessy become Mrs. Annie Cifelli. I haven’t known Annie long, but I love her dearly and I know she will be one of those people that is quite simply always in my life. She is beautiful and brave, smart and sincere. She tells you exactly what she is thinking and she loves those people in her life with reckless abandon. She will fight and fight hard for the people she cares about, and it was very important for me to be there for her wedding. I would have driven my little white sport wagon all the way to Cape Cod if the need had come. I would have done anything to be there, and we made it in plenty of time.
I have never been to a Catholic wedding before; it was very similar and yet strikingly dissimilar from its Contemporary Christian counterpart. There was a lot more ceremony and a lot more ‘religiousness’ to the Catholic service. It is a church service, with a wedding in the middle. I was touched for Annie, knowing how much she had gone through and how big of a deal it was for her to be standing there, pledging herself, her life, her love, and her heart to John. And, seeing her face when she saw me, I knew it was right to be there.
I knew I wouldn’t get to talk to her a lot, but I am still so glad I went. After the wedding, we went to the reception at the Lighthouse Inn. It was right on the ocean, and as we got there, it was so beautiful. Chilly, but beautiful. I held Tim close and watched the ocean, watched people fishing off the rocks, and watched the birds. We stood in silence and just enjoyed the nearness of each other. I know there is always something about being at a wedding with a person you love, but standing there, knowing that he had come on this trip because I wanted him to be there at the wedding with me, I fell in love with him all over again. The rest of the trip to come (New England and NYC) was icing on the cake for me. I was there for Annie’s wedding. And even though he didn’t know Annie and didn’t know another soul there, he was there with me. He is amazing.
****
Okay, so this is getting long…maybe it will take me a couple blogs to email about vacation…there is Friday, anyway :)
We got home from vacation late Monday night, and yes, I know it’s Friday…but I’m just now getting around to writing about the trip. How was it, you ask?
Great. Wonderful. Magnificent. Moving. Exciting.
There aren’t enough words to say to express how great and how strange it was to go on vacation with someone other than my family. It was very strange to just not be there with my mom and very strange to not have her to share the experience with, but it was also very grown up and exciting. I know, I talk about being a grown up like it’s some new thing…but for someone who has grown up in a family where family vacations are extremely important and who has always gone on vacation with them, it’s a big deal. If you’ve been reading this blog long, you know that my first decision-to not go on family vacation with my family back in July, was huge for me.
Anyway, here is what our vacation was like, day by day...
Friday
Up at 1:55 a.m. (okay, so not really “up” seeing as how I didn’t really get any sleep anyway…maybe a couple hours at the most) In the shower, dressed, and groggily out the door by 3:00 a.m. At the airport by 4 and through security, waiting to get on the plane. It’s 4:40 a.m. when we begin boarding the plane. I am the first non-airline employee on the plane. It’s going to be a somewhat empty flight, so no one can sit in front of the 5th row of seats…so yeah, apparently there is some sort of weight issue taken into account. Good to know J As we are taxing, we are greeted by “big mike” the flight attendant. Big Mike is probably 5’5” ish and not plump at all. In fact, he kind of reminds me of Michael J. Fox. As he’s going through the usual safety information, he interjects his own screams (when the air mask would fall) and mimics the recording when it says “in the unlikely event of a water landing.” Turns out he likes to fly in the early morning and be done by early afternoon, but wow…he’s just a bit too chipper for me at 5:00 a.m.
For some reason, I always think of New York as being much further away than it really is…I expect it to take a long time to get there, when in reality, you’re in the air for just under 2 hours. As the sun rises magnificently in the windows, I sip my apple juice and try and doze for a couple minutes. Soon, though, we are descending and looking for the city to appear in the windows. Soon enough if does, and I am overcome with emotion (and I think Tim got a little choked up, as well). There is New York, the city I love, and it is missing a piece. I didn’t expect the loss of the WTC to affect me profoundly. I expected visiting Ground Zero to be touching, but here I was, getting my first glimpse of the city, and I was moved to tears. It almost seemed surreal, in all honesty. It almost seemed like a bad dream. I cannot imagine living there and surviving that. (I will blog more about Ground Zero later…it deserves its own blog and thoughts).
We grabbed a cab, got to the train terminal, and got on a train bound for Stamford. In Stamford, we walked approximately a mile and ½ (and learned to NEVER trust MapQuest maps…yeah, it may look like it’s only a block away, but they take like all the rest of the streets out!!) to get the car. For only a few dollars more, we can upgrade to the Pacifica, so upgrade we do. It’s a NICE ride, I’ll be honest.
Just a mere four and ½ hours later or so, we arrive in West Dennis, MA. By this time, it’s 3:45 p.m. and we’ve been in Indiana, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. It’s been a productive 13 hours or so. :)
Annie’s Wedding
The whole purpose for this trip was to see my good friend Annie Hennessy become Mrs. Annie Cifelli. I haven’t known Annie long, but I love her dearly and I know she will be one of those people that is quite simply always in my life. She is beautiful and brave, smart and sincere. She tells you exactly what she is thinking and she loves those people in her life with reckless abandon. She will fight and fight hard for the people she cares about, and it was very important for me to be there for her wedding. I would have driven my little white sport wagon all the way to Cape Cod if the need had come. I would have done anything to be there, and we made it in plenty of time.
I have never been to a Catholic wedding before; it was very similar and yet strikingly dissimilar from its Contemporary Christian counterpart. There was a lot more ceremony and a lot more ‘religiousness’ to the Catholic service. It is a church service, with a wedding in the middle. I was touched for Annie, knowing how much she had gone through and how big of a deal it was for her to be standing there, pledging herself, her life, her love, and her heart to John. And, seeing her face when she saw me, I knew it was right to be there.
I knew I wouldn’t get to talk to her a lot, but I am still so glad I went. After the wedding, we went to the reception at the Lighthouse Inn. It was right on the ocean, and as we got there, it was so beautiful. Chilly, but beautiful. I held Tim close and watched the ocean, watched people fishing off the rocks, and watched the birds. We stood in silence and just enjoyed the nearness of each other. I know there is always something about being at a wedding with a person you love, but standing there, knowing that he had come on this trip because I wanted him to be there at the wedding with me, I fell in love with him all over again. The rest of the trip to come (New England and NYC) was icing on the cake for me. I was there for Annie’s wedding. And even though he didn’t know Annie and didn’t know another soul there, he was there with me. He is amazing.
****
Okay, so this is getting long…maybe it will take me a couple blogs to email about vacation…there is Friday, anyway :)
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