one year
11:40pm
if you live in columbus or chicago or some nearby midwestern hamlet, you might lucky enough to see and you will know us by the trail of dead onstage. unzip, then peep this if you haven't heard them yet.
11:15pm
i forgot two things that stuck with me when i read the sunday times, both from the money and business section:
"exasperation is frequently a sign of opportunity."
- robert d. hershey, jr., "opposite paths, no middle ground,"
". . . the end of an awesome innocence"
- gretchen morgenson, "rebound from ruin, if not from distrust"
new york times 8 september 2002
7:45pm
way too crunchy for my 2 friends when we got there, and after about 45 minutes i admit for me too. we really need a sexier category term than "people of color," i mean, really.
6:00pm
still've managed to not turn on the tv today. enough coverage already. getting ready to go to a benefit/protesty thing at cooper union sponsored by a bunch of organizations of color.
4:00pm
another walk on the east river, but there's cops everywhere, even zooming over the pedestrian bridge, so no sneaking through the hole in the fence this time.
1:30pm
one of the reasons i work out (besides wanting to not be ignored at bars, have a ghost of a chance at sleeping my way to the top if need be, get all the health and self-esteem stuff, and not die alone in a gay nursing home) is to feel safer. not just looking less muggable but being physically abler to withstand pain and tension. last year i remembered going to my desk after the first tower was hit and pressing against the back of my chair. at the time i was working at a company where everyone had those now-bubble-economy-memoribiliac aeron chairs, so the back extended all the way to the top of my head. i remember appreciating that for the first time then, because my neck felt unusually vulnerable. my neck and my temples are areas of anxiety for me—i daydream all the time about something striking me from a passing car, through a window, who knows, in one of those spots.
1:00pm
as you may've guessed, i'm "working at home" today. somehow the thought of my cubicle on the top (16th) floor of a building right on the water in midtown manhattan made my stomach turn. i emailed some folks that are there today and it's all quiet and somber, they said, and everyone is watching tv in the dotcommy gameroom. a friend of mine died last year—he was on the 97th floor of 1 wtc. it was his second day of work there. we weren't super close, but he was a good guy.
12:00n
the wind is blowing all the tarps and stands around at the union square greenmarket. last night when i was walking down 4th street, which is particularly wide and open and airy, at midnight or 1:00 or so, there was a young guy and girl walking down the street, kind of clutching each other, and the girl kept hiccuping and then saying "shit."
11:05am
can't that nigerian spammer lay off one day outta the year?
10:30am
run down the street to get something to eat. it's a sunny, mild, beautiful-looking day in the neighborhood, just like last year. it's also windy, which is perfect. read the dining & wine section of the paper that someone left at their table and give the nice french girl a 50% tip.
8:50am
i wake up with a hangover (a red stripe and 3/4 of a corona. why do i have to be such a puss?), but the world is still standing.