I was in my freshman year at Harding University. As I was getting ready for class, I got a call from my mom telling me to turn on my TV. I watched them replaying the plane's crash into the first tower and really couldn't understand what was happening. I don't think any of us could. How can we comprehend our safe American world crumbling before our eyes? For my generation, this just didn't seem possible. We had grown up in a safe and strong America. This went against every confidence and reliance we had in our country - in our world. At first I believed it just to be a terrible mistake on a pilot's part or a horrible mechanical malfunction.
In a daze, I finished getting ready and walked across campus to the music building. I really don't remember many details. I think I was in such disbelief that nothing seemed real. I believe my Music Theory professor tried to start class, just out of shear loss for what else to do. None of us were into it. We went out into the hallway where another professor had rolled out a TV. We sat on the floor around it and watched the plane hit the second tower. "Wait. Was that another plane? Was that another building?" I then realized this was not a mistake. Fear, confusion, compassion, disbelief - how can you explain all of the emotions you feel at a moment like that?
I went back to my dorm. (I don't believe many of us tried to go to any more classes that day.) Then they began running footage of the people covered in smoke and dust running in terror, crying, in hysterics. Was this my country? These images resembled pictures I had seen in National Geographic of war-time in other countries. How could this be here?
The pentagon. The next news was that the Pentagon had been hit. This wasn't just a business building in the middle of NY. This was a vital building to our government. This should be one of the most well guarded buildings in our country! It was on fire with a huge hole in the side.
I believe at this point I may have completely checked out. What could I do? I was helpless. I could do nothing to stop this. I couldn't even process what was happening. I believe I popped in one of my favorite movies (probably 10 Things I Hate About You) just to escape from the horror of it all.
For the next several weeks, there were rumors around campus that we could be a target - because we had the largest auditorium in the area. Of course, this idea was ridiculous, but our fear was real.
When I went home for Thanksgiving, SNL had an amazing tribute with many artists singing "I'm Proud To Be An American." This is not like me, but I remember standing with tears streaming down my face, singing along with them.
I wanted to get down my random thoughts and memories of that horrible day, so I would have them for years to come. It is not a day I like to dwell on. I didn't watch any of the specials today. I didn't discuss the events with anyone. I didn't even read anyone else's accounts of 9/11/01. But, of course, it is something I will never forget. When asked, I want to have my memories as best I can.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Allergies
I am allergic to:
Doing the dishes after I have cooked a large meal. (Ok, ok - even after a small, easy meal.)
Running. (The phrase, "I'm exercising. I'm exercising," always repeats in my head over and over again to the rhythm of my canter. And, in the case that you are confused, it is not repeated in a chipper endorphin-infused voice, but rather a voice more similar to that of Eeyore, Pooh's donkey friend. Thanks for noticin' me.)
Matching socks.
Plain socks.
My husband's explanations of accounting processes.
Hanging up laundry right when I pull it out of the dryer.
Hanging up laundry. (Achoo! I feel it coming on.)
The term "tee tee" when used in reference to urinating.
Watching sports on TV.
NASCAR anything.
Cloth diapers. Kudos to you that can do it. I've tried. I just cannot. Maybe if the stairs to and from my washer and dryer didn't feel like I was scaling a mountain I would be more successful at them.
Lord of The Rings. I can't get into it. I've tried several times bc my husband loves it. But, nope, not happening. In fact, I think for the 2nd movie I went to the opening showing with some friends. I just sat there and heckled it the entire time. I got a lot of angry nerd looks. lol
Animal movies. I'm trying to think of one that I have liked . . . , . . . , . . . Nope, can't think of one.
What are you allergic to?
Inspired by this post from idontbelieveingrammar. I am in <3 with her blog name - even if am an English/Grammar/Writing teacher. I somehow stumbled across her blog and fell in love with it. I see myself in so many of her posts.
Doing the dishes after I have cooked a large meal. (Ok, ok - even after a small, easy meal.)
Running. (The phrase, "I'm exercising. I'm exercising," always repeats in my head over and over again to the rhythm of my canter. And, in the case that you are confused, it is not repeated in a chipper endorphin-infused voice, but rather a voice more similar to that of Eeyore, Pooh's donkey friend. Thanks for noticin' me.)
Matching socks.
Plain socks.
My husband's explanations of accounting processes.
Hanging up laundry right when I pull it out of the dryer.
Hanging up laundry. (Achoo! I feel it coming on.)
The term "tee tee" when used in reference to urinating.
Watching sports on TV.
NASCAR anything.
Cloth diapers. Kudos to you that can do it. I've tried. I just cannot. Maybe if the stairs to and from my washer and dryer didn't feel like I was scaling a mountain I would be more successful at them.
Lord of The Rings. I can't get into it. I've tried several times bc my husband loves it. But, nope, not happening. In fact, I think for the 2nd movie I went to the opening showing with some friends. I just sat there and heckled it the entire time. I got a lot of angry nerd looks. lol
Animal movies. I'm trying to think of one that I have liked . . . , . . . , . . . Nope, can't think of one.
What are you allergic to?
Inspired by this post from idontbelieveingrammar. I am in <3 with her blog name - even if am an English/Grammar/Writing teacher. I somehow stumbled across her blog and fell in love with it. I see myself in so many of her posts.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Mama Bear (cont.)
Time to continue the story. Yes, it has been a few months. I know you have been sitting in suspense all this time and I am sorry to have caused you so much anxiety. ha
If you haven't read the previous entry (part 1 of this saga), I encourage you to.
In the previous post, I hope I have established my very logical fear of stinging insects. They don't like me. They come after me. I cannot stand still. They do not go away. They sting me. We have a mutual hate for each other.
Some persistent hornets must continue to build a nest right near our front door bc it is a common occurrence for one to find its way into our home when my husband opens the door to leave for work in the morning. As previously mentioned, my normal response to this was to barricade myself in another room until my husband got home from work. Yes. All day. And sometimes several days in a row. These suckers live for DAYS! I would think that they had died by the evening, bc of course by the time that my husband gets home they have stopped flying. But, no, they are just resting for the evening and begin their furious flight anew when I rise in the morning. Ahhh!
I mean, look at these things! They are the size of, like, a golf ball! So scary!
So, to reset the scene: Juniper and I get up in the morning. I set her down on the living room floor to play and I assume my position on the couch. Then I hear it:
Bzzzzzzz *Clink*
Bzzzzzzz *Plonk*
Bzzzzzzz "I'm an angry hornet and I'm just getting angrier every time I run into something!" *Dink*
Being the brave mommy that I am, I scoop up Juniper and run to the back of the room intent on camping out in her room for the rest of the day until her father gets home. Then, my brain kicks in a little. It is 8am. Her father doesn't get home until around 6pm. Am I really going to be able to keep this baby happy in her room for 10 hours? What if she gets hungry? My milk only goes so far. I don't have enough toys in there to keep her entertained. What if I have to go to the bathroom?
I realize I need to get tough and take care of this. Man up. Be a Mama bear protecting her cub. ROAR! I have to destroy this thing.
I begin whispering with Juniper (you know, so the hornet can't hear us), trying to figure out what we are going to do. Juniper whispers babble back. Not helpful - but cute! I'm going to need something with a lot of surface, so there is less room for error. Lord knows, I do not want to miss! I settle on a large dust pan. After about 20 minutes of standing there debating and abating my fear, I begin to move.
I set Juniper down in the kitchen where she can see all the action but is out of harm's way. I stalk carefully towards the hornet. It has been favoring our brick fireplace so at least it is kind of staying in one place. I get closer. I can see it! Closer. Its stupid little wings are quivering. Closer. I am definitely within stinging range now. With a trembling hand I raise the dust pan and . . .
WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! SCREAM! Screech!
These sounds were happening pretty much simultaneously. The "WHACK," of course, is me hitting the hornet. The "Bzzzzzz" is the hornet that WILL NOT DIE!!! The "SCREAM" is me screaming in fear with every hit. And the "Screech" is Juniper screaming in response to my scream. I am sure it was quite a ridiculous scene.
In the end, I emerged the victor! I slew the hornet! The hornet had been slain! I scooped up the carcass with the dustpan and deposited it outside. I raised my fists in triumph. I deserved a trophy, nay, a CAPE, fore I was the super slayer of stinging insects! HA!
I would like to say that the tables have turned with stinging insects and me. I would like to say that I no longer fear them. But, just today, I nervously held my breath as a yellow jacket flew by me and then frantically waved my arms and yelled, "Stay away from my baby! Stay away from my baby!" as it flew near Juniper. I'm a work in progress.
If you haven't read the previous entry (part 1 of this saga), I encourage you to.
In the previous post, I hope I have established my very logical fear of stinging insects. They don't like me. They come after me. I cannot stand still. They do not go away. They sting me. We have a mutual hate for each other.
Some persistent hornets must continue to build a nest right near our front door bc it is a common occurrence for one to find its way into our home when my husband opens the door to leave for work in the morning. As previously mentioned, my normal response to this was to barricade myself in another room until my husband got home from work. Yes. All day. And sometimes several days in a row. These suckers live for DAYS! I would think that they had died by the evening, bc of course by the time that my husband gets home they have stopped flying. But, no, they are just resting for the evening and begin their furious flight anew when I rise in the morning. Ahhh!
So, to reset the scene: Juniper and I get up in the morning. I set her down on the living room floor to play and I assume my position on the couch. Then I hear it:
Bzzzzzzz *Clink*
Bzzzzzzz *Plonk*
Bzzzzzzz "I'm an angry hornet and I'm just getting angrier every time I run into something!" *Dink*
Being the brave mommy that I am, I scoop up Juniper and run to the back of the room intent on camping out in her room for the rest of the day until her father gets home. Then, my brain kicks in a little. It is 8am. Her father doesn't get home until around 6pm. Am I really going to be able to keep this baby happy in her room for 10 hours? What if she gets hungry? My milk only goes so far. I don't have enough toys in there to keep her entertained. What if I have to go to the bathroom?
I realize I need to get tough and take care of this. Man up. Be a Mama bear protecting her cub. ROAR! I have to destroy this thing.
I begin whispering with Juniper (you know, so the hornet can't hear us), trying to figure out what we are going to do. Juniper whispers babble back. Not helpful - but cute! I'm going to need something with a lot of surface, so there is less room for error. Lord knows, I do not want to miss! I settle on a large dust pan. After about 20 minutes of standing there debating and abating my fear, I begin to move.
I set Juniper down in the kitchen where she can see all the action but is out of harm's way. I stalk carefully towards the hornet. It has been favoring our brick fireplace so at least it is kind of staying in one place. I get closer. I can see it! Closer. Its stupid little wings are quivering. Closer. I am definitely within stinging range now. With a trembling hand I raise the dust pan and . . .
WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! WHACK! Bzzzzzz SCREAM! Screech!
WHACK! SCREAM! Screech!
These sounds were happening pretty much simultaneously. The "WHACK," of course, is me hitting the hornet. The "Bzzzzzz" is the hornet that WILL NOT DIE!!! The "SCREAM" is me screaming in fear with every hit. And the "Screech" is Juniper screaming in response to my scream. I am sure it was quite a ridiculous scene.
In the end, I emerged the victor! I slew the hornet! The hornet had been slain! I scooped up the carcass with the dustpan and deposited it outside. I raised my fists in triumph. I deserved a trophy, nay, a CAPE, fore I was the super slayer of stinging insects! HA!
I would like to say that the tables have turned with stinging insects and me. I would like to say that I no longer fear them. But, just today, I nervously held my breath as a yellow jacket flew by me and then frantically waved my arms and yelled, "Stay away from my baby! Stay away from my baby!" as it flew near Juniper. I'm a work in progress.
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