Belated thoughts on ten years of 9/11

This is my second year being out of the country for 9/11 and to be honest, the only reason I spent any time thinking about it this year was because of the fact that it happened (now, over a) decade ago.  Which, holy cow, ten years?

Ten years ago I was running around as a junior, dealing with all that nonsense that high school throws on everyone that passes through those doors.  I had a driver's license but no car.  I was on the swim team.  I was dating a guy I don't date anymore.  I'm pretty sure that I had a solid D in physics and was thrilled about it.

That morning Tanner walked into my first hour and said that a plane had crashed into a building in New York, which my teacher brushed off as a joke because Tanner was late to class (again) and was known for saying things that were only based loosely on facts.  By my third class I was being told that the White House was on fire, a plane had also been crashed into the Pentagon and that we were being invaded.  After third period everyone in the school was glued the news, only tearing ourselves away to go to our next class or to run to the bathroom.

Ten years later,  I have grown up.  I pay my own bills.  I have to feed myself and do my own laundry.  I moved so far away from my parents that I live half a day ahead of them.  I date a different boy.  I have dogs that are all mine instead of family pets.  I have had office jobs and quarter life crises and broken hearts and hangovers.  Flying on airplanes turned into a test of patience and a game of wills.  Suddenly people were scared of other people for no reason.  There have been times of love and unity and times of people pointing at each other screaming lies because they are scared of something they can't see.  Osama Bin Laden was killed.

That is a lot of stuff.

Ten years later, I found myself in Fukuoka, Japan.  Half a world away from those white high school hallways, drinking cocktails out of cans with new friends.  We held our drinks in the air, said a short prayer of goodwill to sky, tapped our cans together, took good long swigs to be sure that our good vibes would travel far out into the night.  We told each other about where we were when we learned about the history that was unfolding that day.

Ten years from now I can only hope that I find myself in another place with cocktails and friends.  Maybe our memories will be a bit more fuzzy.  Maybe there will be kids running around screaming, making it hard to have a conversation.   Maybe we will also get to talk about when the war ended.  Hopefully we won't have another infamous date to talk about as well.  Where ever that place is, I hope it's full of the good feelings and love that we tried to articulate in that toast.

A{n odorless} Funk.

Lately I have found myself in a bit of a funk. I have about 4 blog posts started, waiting their turn to be finished. I have had to ask for a lot of help from my parents (the last people that I want to ask for help right now. I find that it sort of takes away from that whole "grown up" feeling I've been trying to cultivate). I have been fighting with my apartment complex for the last month to get them to take responsibility for flooding my apartment and paying for damages (that is one of the posts waiting to get written, BTW).

And each little thing takes a bit of wind out of my sails. Until I'm left floating, feeling alone (even though I'm not), and very unsure about what to do next.

Last night was the worst. I was really upset for no reason at all (oh the joys of being a girl) and then I watched Homeward Bound, which was a bad idea all around because it just made me cry more, and then I wallowed. Oh, there was wallowing and wailing.

Ok, actually, there was not a lot of wallowing or wailing, I just wanted to say them in the same sentence. It's fun.

But I was sad. And so I gave myself 5 minutes to be sad. And then I sat down and made some lists. Because lists are totally awesome.

I wrote down 10 reasons I suck at life. Then I re-read them and was sad. But then I said to myself, "Self, this is silly. You do not suck at life." So then I made a list of 10 reasons why my 10 reasons I suck at life are untrue or completely absurd. And then I re-read that and I laughed a little because really, some of my I suck at life things really were totally crazy pants.

And then, as an exercise in being nice to myself, I wrote down a list of 10 reasons why I am awesome sauce. And that one was a little harder. I think it's mostly because I have always used my ability to put myself down and make fun of myself as a defense mechanism (oh middle school ... you sucked. Alot.) and so saying nice things about myself is ... not normal. But I really did feel better about everything.

The Moral of the Story: Sometimes you just have to get out your crazy so that you can move on with your life in a sane(er-ish) manner than you could have if you just kept the crazy locked up inside you. Just ... don't let anyone read your journal. Then you probably won't have any friends.

Letting the dream catch me for once

Since I got back from China in February, I feel like I have been chasing a dream. A dream that consists mostly of me not having to work (ever) and being able to eat as many pancakes and M&M's as I want without ever having to worry about getting fat. We all have to have a dream, right?

Hilda has been telling me over and over again that I need to "find contentment in what I have". I read blog after blog that talks about how being in the moment is so important. I even have started doing Shiva Nata as a way to try and tap into some of that contentment. Although, to be fair I have wanted to start practicing Shiva Nata for a while now (because Havi is pretty much my hero and I want to be her when I grow up) and this whole "why does my life suck all the time?" thing felt like the perfect time to finally step up and buy the starter kit.

I was trying so hard to be content with what I had, but it seemed like no matter what I did there was always something nagging at the back of my mind. Like, I would be wishing for cable (a post is coming on that, I promise) or dreading going to Macy's for job #2 of the day, or thinking about the eleventy billion other things that I needed to do over the weekend instead of being locked up in a department store.

But then the other day I was standing in my kitchen, wearing my pink polka-dot apron, kneading some bread (yes I am aware that statement makes me sound like Suzy Homemaker) and it occurred to me that I was genuinely happy. I have started listening to some of the CD's that I love, like the Godzilla soundtrack (because I am just that cool), and I finally got my apartment clean over mother's day weekend and I am happy. The quiet of not having the TV on all the time took some getting used too. Once I let go of trying to be happy - I was.

It's so cliche, I know. But I'm so happy that it found me. I am so content in my little space. I'm just sorry that I might be leaving it in a few months. Even though I am also really excited about the adventure that I will be going on (provided, of course, that the Korea's can get along without dropping bombs on each other).

The good thing is, however, that I know that I can do it. The happiness is there to be had. You just have to relax enough to let it get you.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Today I would like to do what everyone else is doing and send a giant, huge THANK YOU to everyone currently in uniform and anyone who has ever worn one.

And I would like to challenge everyone else to make everyday Veteran's Day. My mother, whenever we are somewhere and she spots someone in uniform or an older person with a hat, she will go out of her way to go over to them and thank them for serving.

I used to think it was embarrassing but then one day I was out with some friends for lunch and right in front of me was a gentleman in uniform. On a whim I tapped him on the shoulder and thanked him for serving.

The look in his eyes is something that will never, ever forget. It was clear that he really appreciated being thanked. He grinned at me and thanked me and shook my hand.

My challenge to you, and myself, is to start thanking all the veterans you meet. Just because it's not November 11th doesn't mean that they don't deserve to be appreciated.