each and every morning in new york during our trip to new york this week, i would run downstairs from our crappy hotel room, and buy a cup of coffee, a new york post and a times, and mike and i would peruse the papers and talk about the news and such. it made me realize that since there are no children in our future, i could easily leave everything and move to new york. i love it there. it is where i feel alive, creative, and free. six years ago today, i was just dating my now husband working the swing shift in the emergency room. we woke up and left from his place. he had no television in his room, so i made my way to the gym. i came in, got onto the treadmill and started running. all of the sudden, the man next me was poking my shoulder, crying tears of disbelief as we watched the first plane hit the tower. we then watched the second. we all just stopped. i remember them shutting off all the music and turning the sound on from the television. i started crying and ran out of the gym. i wandered the aisles of target frantically calling all of my loved ones, none of which who lived in n.y.c. i still needed to hear their voices. i got into my car and cried. i called into work, and they needed help early. things like this bring people in the emergency room in droves. people having heart attacks and strokes, people thinking they were having heart attacks and strokes. one man came in because his daughter worked in the world trade center and the phone at her desk kept on ringing. he couldn't stand being at home, and he kept telling me his heart hurt. we both knew the answers as all his tests came back negative. i was with him when her husband called to say she was indeed in the building that day. i held him as he cried and cried. i worked eighteen hours that day, the longest ever, without a break. it was as if we were all one, and i didn't care about me, i cared about our country and what everyone was going through, especially those in new york. we walked by ground zero in the rain yesterday, and i decided not to take pictures. i have been there various times since the attack and seen the progress they have made. the one thing that never goes away is the anger. i get so mad every time i almost cannot see straight. we flew out this morning, and it was surreal. we had a moment of silence in the airport for each of the planes. it made me angry and tearful all over again. this is my tribute to america, and to a city that keeps on giving and loving and growing despite having to remember that tragedy so visibly...

my clothes are all a little tighter today (really? these jeans should not be tight. i buy two sizes smaller than these jeans now, and these jeans are tight. i hate the world.) and now i get to spend hours sat squished into a car, and then spend hours sitting around a house, then squished in a car again, and by the time i'm home i'll be too tired to work out. reeeeeeeeeey! if i'm going to start working out again (which, judging by the way my jeans are ready to burst at the seams and my arms look like two horrid fat sausages in these dress shirt sleeves, i really need to) i have to get a routine going and do it every day, but what kind of insensitive prick says she doesn't want to go visiting because she needs to treadmill? holidays exhaust me. i'm too fat, sounds are too loud, lights are too bright, and THE SMELLS. god, i'm going to be sick. i'd like to hack whoever invented aftershave into very tiny pieces. and OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD do i hate when people put their hand on your arm ever so lightly and then lean in to say something to you, when they're already like two inches away from you in a car. *shudder* oh yeah, and this picture was taken in my brother's office/guestroom in upstate new york, where there's a very comfy futon i sleep on when i'm visiting.