Never tell me the odds!
Originally posted September 18, 2001
It’s been one week.
So this is the first anniversary of sorts. And next week it will be two weeks. And then it will be a month since. And then it will be six months. And then a year. And then five years. And then ten years.
When all the networks went back to “regularly scheduled programming” it felt wrong. I’m not trying to pick a scab or dwell or anything like that, but it seems like it’s still right here, y’know? It seems like it just happened this morning. I don’t like the idea of “getting back to normal”. I’m not talking about some demented, bleeding-heart, “the people that died can’t go back to normal” empathy. I just mean that it doesn’t feel right to “go back to normal”. What the #$*@ is normal? Nothing is normal.
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My five favorite things about the Fall:
Five shows I remember watching at my grandparents’ house every day with my little sister after school while we waited for mom to come home from work:
Not that I ever play the lottery, because I don’t, but if I did, and if I won, here are the first five people I’d call:
“A good film is when the price of the dinner, the theatre admission and the babysitter were worth it.”
I like this photo of my mom because I have to believe she liked it. It shows her as an adult and in probably the best shape of her life. Her only complaint, I bet, would be that my sister and I are not in it, and so it is not a true representation of her because we were her whole life.
She died on August 12th, 2012, which was two years ago. I remember collapsing to the ground before I even hung up the phone. To the end, to the very moment before I received the call, I believed that I would get to talk to her again; I believed with all my heart and clung desperately and unashamedly to the hope that everything would be all right. So I guess I am really not as smart as you might think.
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