We will never forget.

Watch. Remember.



If we can watch this and not remember how heartbreaking, frightening, upsetting that day was, then we have broken our promise. We've done what we swore we would never do. We have forgotten.

I'll never forget. I was a high-school sophomore. I went to school that day with the biggest event on my agenda being the delivery of a note with three stickers and nothing else: YES.

Before Honors English, I delivered the note to its recipient, and knew this day would change the rest of my life. Little did I know just how much.

I sat in class, listening to the teacher, who would eventually call me a bitch to another class in which I would not be present, talk about something entirely uninteresting - perhaps Beowulf or something else I never understood or even cared to. The white-fro-haired teacher next door, who was once a contestant on an MTV game show, although I do not remember the exact one, stuck his head inside and said, "turn on the news. The World Trade Center towers have been hit by an airplane."

I didn't know what the World Trade Center was. I didn't know where they were located. And it didn't really matter - we didn't believe him. It was a boy-who-cried-wolf kind of situation; the teacher was a jokester. Eventually, he returned and expressionlessly restated his previous request, to which we adhered.

Sure enough. It was still early enough for teachers to still have hot coffee in their apple-printed mugs, and we stared at the television in disbelief. No one spoke. We just watched. Watched. Watched. And then we watched the second plane crash quickly into the second tower.

I remember it being difficult to hold back my emotions, to not let the tears fall down my face. I wasn't sure if crying was the okay thing to do - I didn't want to be the laughingstock. But no one was watching me. No one cared. And I'm probably correct in assuming everyone else felt the exact same way.

That day, school stayed in session, but no work was done. No lessons taught. At least none that had been prepared by the teachers. We spent the entire day taking in history, witnessing a tragedy of American lives, watching terrorism unfold before our very eyes.

There wasn't much to see. The news replayed the planes crashing, the burning buildings, the falling structures, over and over. And every time it was unbelievable. Every time, I felt so sad.

At home that night, I sat with my family and watched as New Yorkers displayed photos of family members on the streets, on billboards, on clothing, or holding the portraits directly up to the camera. It was heartbreaking.

September 11, 2001 was a day I said yes. And it was a day I said No. No, I will never forget.

And I will never forget.

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A beautiful wedding, an unfortunate end, a wonderful life now lived

I sometimes randomly come across my wedding DVD (even after strategically hiding it in places where I do not typically look so as to avoid this), and I can't help but pop it in my computer and watch the tragic event unfold. So was the case tonight.

Looking back, I don't understand how I didn't see that day what is so incredibly clear from the camera lens. Sure, I looked relatively happy (and pretty, if I might say so), but I think I was the only one.

I don't know that I ever saw X smile once while being filmed. And, of course, I'll never forget walking down the aisle and watching him scan the sanctuary, my bridesmaids ... everyone but me. Shouldn't this have been a big, red flag?

This is typical in life ... well, in mine, anyway. When I want something, I make it seem like the greatest thing, no matter the reality.

Example: I bought my Land Rover Discovery although it not only looked like a piece of crap, but expelled oil, didn't have a passenger-side mirror, was keyed on both sides - oh, and required premium gas even during a recession. But I had a Rover. Needless to say, the thing died and I sold it for half of my investment less than a year later. It was a waste of my time and money that could have been prevented had I listened to what my father told me.

Oh, how familiar that is.

Had I listened to what not only my father told me, but also my friends, family, coworkers, and people I didn't even know, I would not have wasted over $20K (okay, my parents) on a wedding, although beautiful, that really meant nothing.

I can't say that I really have regrets. Yes, not going through with the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended ('tis true) would have saved me and many others many a crying morning/afternoon/day/night. But at the same time, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't have learned the lessons I needed to understand the situation I'm in. If I didn't have to fall out of love, I wouldn't know how to love with everything I have. For that, I am truly grateful.

Surely, I will make many more mistakes in my life. Some I will not be proud of, but will certainly make me a stronger person. I'm not perfect, never will be, never have been, never want to be. But I can say with full conviction that I am a changed woman, and I know what I want. I have what I want (for the most part).

That beautiful Spring day four years ago that I thought would define the rest of my life actually only created a foundation for who I would become.

In the words of the queen, "Now I'm stronger than yesterday. Now it's nothing but my way. My loneliness ain't killin' me no more. I AM stronger." (Britney Spears)

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Inglorious Basterds

Kill Bill? Great series.

Pulp Fiction? Classic.

Inglorious Basterds? Excellence.

Needless to say, Quentin Tarantino is genius, and his latest film is no exception. The story line was captivating; the blood and gore, repulsive; and Brad Pitt wasn't terrible on the eyes, either, my friend.

But great directing / acting aside, there is something about Hitler and his Nazi crazies that I find so intriguing. The power he had over peoples' minds is frightening and absolutely amazing at the same time. He was a very a intelligent man - he would have to be to build such a powerful, hypnotizing cult.

I feel like re-reading Mein Kampf.

That shall be next on my list.

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Journalist or a Hairdresser - We all deal with annoying people.

In response to this blog (written by a friend who I sometimes do not agree with - but that's okay):

As a journalist, I went to school for 5 years, took classes that I had to have that didn't even pertain to my major, paid thousands of dollars for textbooks the professor never even used - not to mention $25,000 in student loans. I had to find (on my own) two internships that totaled 300 hours of my time - UNPAID - yet I still had to pay to live in D.C. for the duration of one internship, and my gas traveling 30 minutes each way for the other. I spent countless hours interviewing annoying, haughty people about things I didn't care about, attending events that I sometimes didn't even agree with, standing around taking pictures that editors would end up not having room for and endless, ENDLESS hours writing stories and articles just so everyone else can know and understand what is going on in the world. And what do I get in return as a journalist? Less than $20K per year IF I can find a job, plus the added benefit of society blaming me for reading about the things they don't like. I don't make the news, I just let you know about it.

I do think $85 is steep for a cut / color - especially when the girl who does my hair stains my shirt every .. single .. time with dye. Do I pay it anyway? Yes.

But we all choose our paths in life, and if we don't like our jobs, we can always get a new one.

I got that quote from you!

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Maybe I'm the one, maybe I"m the one .. who is .. a schizophrenic psycho

I'm an emotional person. I mean, come on - I'm a girl, it's a given. But perhaps I cry more than others. It doesn't really make a difference.

But because I keep my heart out in the open and easier to get slashed and beaten, my hurt feelings and sadness are often mistaken for psychosis. I am not crazy. I am not a schizophrenic psycho.

I am also the kind of person who falls the hardest every..single..time. When I love someone, I love them with everything I have. I am certainly not perfect and I'm sure I am not the person I hope to be 100 percent of the time, but I am confident that I give my utmost to those that I love.

Those two qualities combined do not make for a great character analysis. Because I love deeply AND wear my heart on my sleeve, I get my feelings hurt often and can't keep what I'm feeling inside.

But what is most unfortunate about my situation is that I have yet to find another like me, who understands what I go through. Instead, the people I love hurt me and hate me for being upset. It's (I've been told) an annoyance.

I've tried, in past relationships, to stop caring. To not be bothered by the hurtful actions of those I love, and to most certainly not react in a way that exudes my frustration, sadness, hurt ....

What I found out was that when you stop caring, you do just that. You can't not care about how someone makes you feel and still care about the person. It's impossible. In fact, the frustration, the sadness, the hurt - these all come because you care for someone. Without the emotion, there is no love. At least not for me.

So I often come to a crossroads where I have to choose whether I want to continue caring for someone, or stop feeling like the psycho-babble annoyance I know I am. In the past, it hasn't been easy, but I've typically (okay, only once) chosen to stop caring. In the end, it worked out. You move on, you get over it.

But sometimes there are more things at stake than just a relationship or a legal document. Every now and then, things are worth more than to just give up. Even if it means tears and lots of journal pages. It's still worth it.

And that's just the way it is. There is no amount of crazy medicine or therapy sessions that will take away what I feel inside. I've come to accept that it's who I am, and how I love. It is unfortunate, I'll admit - for both myself and the recipient of my feelings. But how do you make those pangs go away? And would you want to?

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Sleep - where are you?

I used to think the worst was sleeping over at someone else's house and developing insomnia because of the unfamiliarity of the surroundings.

But I've changed my mind.

The worst is developing insomnia in my OWN house because of the unfamiliarity of my surroundings. We moved the bedroom into the dining room (what? Isn't that normal?) and I simply cannot get used to it. Granted, this is only my second night sleeping where I should be eating, but still. I'm tired. Exhausted, actually, from my lack of sleep last night. I want to fall asleep. Oh, but my mind will just not drift into unconsciousness.

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Land of the Obama bandwagon.

First, read THIS NEWS STORY.

I am proud to be an American.

Having said that, I am so incredibly saddened by the digression my wonderful country has taken in the past several months (notably, since President Obama has taken office). Censorship has increasingly become more prevalent, but has unfortunately only hit certain groups - conservatives in particular and, well, whites in general.

Anyone who does not fall into either of those categories will lash out at me responding that I am simply closed-minded and a white supremacist for even thinking the censorship that is occurring is unconstitutional. It is contemporary, politically correct and socially accurate, they will say. And this, my dear friend, is exactly why I am so distraught about my country.

The article about Spivack's North Carolina mall kiosk just blows my mind and breaks my heart. Where have all our constitutional rights gone? Well, they're intact if you're in agreement with Mr. President himself. Otherwise, you are a threat.

It's so outrageous to me that a year ago (not even that long) it was socially acceptable to publish books, print T-shirts and display bumper stickers that hailed our then-President, the wonderful George W., as an incompetent idiot who could not form a sentence, let alone run a country full of arrogant know-nothings. However, after a change of office throws in more actual change than most were really expecting (at least for the worst) it is not only politically incorrect to poke fun and call names, but it has become ILLEGAL.

You say, no - it certainly is not illegal, but only severely looked down upon. Oh no, my friend. That ridiculous North Carolina mall management withheld the option for Spivack to renew his lease for the kiosk based SOLELY upon the merchandise he was selling. Furthermore, the mall owner admitted he was appalled by the anti-Obama pieces and that it was grounds for Spivack's discharge.

Come on, America. This is NOT an accurate portrayal of the land of the FREE. We have become the land of the free-if-you-agree-with-Obama-and-the-liberals-and-don't-make-them-look-any-less-important-or-noble-than-they-feel. Can you say hierarchy? That's much too simple. Can you say COMMUNISM? China has given America much more than money.

It truly is a sad time for my beloved country. But not only sad - scary, if you're a white conservative as myself. I must watch my every step, think and re-think my every word. If I say the wrong thing, I be deemed politically incorrect.

If I speak my mind, I may be charged with treason.

Please tell me, who is making these rules.

Please tell me, when can I have my country back?

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