watching: Bleach
listening to: mooore music, k love!
mood: thoughtful

Today a truck driver came in our warehouse we were all talking and we got onto the topic of September Eleventh. He said, “I don’t mean to get political or anything, but sometimes it seems that people forget that 9-11 happened, you know?” and I thought, do I remember 9-11th?
It was an ordinary school day for me. I think I didn’t even know the numeric significance until a couple days after. September is September, nothing happens in it unless its your birthday. I think it’s probably the only month without a hallmark holiday. You see, August has back to school and Labor day. March has St. Patty’s, and April sometimes easter and always April Fools. Nothing happens in September. I think I was in third period before the first plane hit. We were watching the news because it was study hour and we were bored and then, it just happened. People were like, “Hey look, a plane crashed into a building!” And I was thinking, goll, well that’s novel. That doesn’t happen every day your know, like a dog with two heads or a horse/zebra. It was weird because I didn’t know what the World Trade Center was and I really didn’t even consider the fact that someone I knew would be in the building. At least that was part of me. Another part of me which had been paying attention in bible class and had been hearing my teacher rage on and on about the end times and the signs thereto was quietly flooding in to a full fledged panic attack, considering the possibility of this being the end of the world and woe is my, I have so much of my life to live. I just wanted to leave and stop watching the television.
Then I went to choir and my choir teacher (who was also my bible teacher) said that we should go into the library and watch the news (which I was pretty much done with) so that people could cope and we could be kept abreast with the goings on. Then, the second plane hit, and a consensus came over me. I thought, my life is never going to be the same after this. I felt like the entire world had been dropped like a weight on my shoulders, that the sky had fallen and I was being crushed underneath it. I watched the screen and I could almost see Satan settling in the ashes as the chaos and monstrosity played over and over again. I kept on wondering why we had to see this, why couldn’t we just go back to our classrooms and pretend that the world outside of that little high school didn’t exist, but somehow, no matter what I tried to do, I found myself surrounded by a whole room of people, transfixed and reverent, much in the way people were after Columbine, they were all stuck in this moment that I was already all to ready to leave behind. I pulled out my planner. In the back I wrote a note in red pen for times that I was sad. I flipped it open and I began to read. It said that today was a wonderful day. That I felt better than I had ever felt in my entire life. That I had friends that liked me, that I had a family that cared about me and today, everything was going well for me. I wrote that I had written it down because I knew there would be a day when I wouldn’t feel like this, where I would forget all the things that I had and I would be sitting in sadness without knowing a way out. I wrote it because I wanted to remind myself that there were other days, days like those. As I read it, I realized that that note for was a day like that day. And that day I remembered, not all days are like 9-11.
Nothing did change. I changed schools the year afterwards for my own reasons, but it didn’t really “Change my life forever”. I think I heard a lot more from the news, but after hearing about the same stuff every single day, it almost turns into white noise that I almost never concern myself with unless people decide to impolitely broach the forbidden topics of politics and religion over lunch. The only thing that really had changed was the facts, distant inconsequential facts that circulate every day, though you gain nothing by knowing them. Years went by, I forgot about 9-11. Then there was today.
Today was not a special day, no more than that day should have been. I look back on that day and I remember those moments and suddenly I realize something else that I didn’t realize then. You see, today was not special, nothing happened, nothing was new, my life wasn’t changed forever. Sometimes you have these days and you almost feel like jumping off a building to change up the pace. I guess it’s just important to remember that the monotony won’t kill you. In fact, these are the days that you’ll wish you could remember when all other hope is gone.

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I just saw the Harry Potter movie today. Actually, I started out with misgivings about seeing it at all seeing as the book it was based off of ended up putting me to sleep three or four times, because of that I listened to it on tape and in the end I was seriously wondering why I put out the effort. It just seemed clunky, poorly formed, ugly. To be kind, I suppose it was more like the bound slave sculptures that Michelangelo never finished for his commission on Pope Julius II's tomb. When we were in museum, we almost missed them entirely. Some people argue that these sculptures represent a statement since it was Michelangelo who often spoke of freeing the figures from the marble. Personally, I always thought he just got sick of them. That was how I felt about this book, there was just all this excess marble clinging to the pages, slowing it down and clogging it in such a way that you might miss the delicate figure beneath the stone.

The reviews were all the same as they were for every "book to movie" movie that I have seen in the last few months. "It's awful" "They cut everything important" "How could they bastardize it like that." Well, yeah, sure, whatever. Personally, I have a renewed respect for Hollywood. As Zanzibar says in her blog, they made important connections that they never fully manifested in the book: "Which was exactly what the book had been missing which was keeping it from greatness." http://zanzibar.nutang.com A lot of the lengthy development was politely rearranged, extraneous characters cut and irrationalities rationalized. For instance, the upsetting departure of Sirius Black hit me like a mac truck. Almost. Actually, more like a mac truck that comes really darned close and sprays dirty water all over your new dress and you start yelling the most lady-like things you can possible manage at the moment like: "YOU LITTLE... WHATEVER!!! I JUST! I HAVE NO WORDS FOR YOU- YOU- EXPLETIVE!" It's like: Hey, hit me or leave me alone, but for goodness sakes, don't dance around it like a pansy! You see, she left all these holes, millions of chances for Harry not to be an idiot and do something sensible. Like the mirror that Sirius gave Harry to contact him. It was like I was a parent sitting on the sidelines of a child's soccer game yelling "NO! NO! THE OTHER GOAL! THE OTHER GOAL!!!!1!" But in the movie, they took out all of the holes, or at least made it move fast enough that you couldn't blame Harry for missing them. It wasn't really his fault like it was in the first book. It felt more like real life. In real life, when you lose someone, you try think of the thousands of things that you could have done to make them come back, the time you should have spent, the calls you should have made, but the truth is that none of those worries, none of these things you "should" have done would have slowed the cancer or stopped the seizures or even kept the disease at bay. That is life. That is the sculpture. That is the finished David standing at ease in the halls of the Academie.

So, if you ask my opinion: SEE THE MOVIE! You don't even have to have read the book! In fact, DON'T read the book, just see it! I guarantee, even if you are not moved by it as I was, you'll at least have not wasted your 7 bucks.

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Monday is one of those days. It's the day when the plans you had for your new regimes are shattered by the heartbreaking reality of work and your real life and you suddenly wish that life where an online chat, filled with people who can't see you with a body that is fully customizable and nothing good really costs all the much. That was today, Monday! Oh, for the love of Monday. There used to be a day when, out of a rebellious notion, I actually really liked Mondays. It was my consideration then that Mondays weren't really as bad as Sundays, primarily because when I'm in school, that is the day that I leave all my home work to do. Mondays, it seemed to me, were just an obligation of habit. It was like hypnotherapy, walk in, sit for 8 hours, go home. Now it's "Hi, oh yeah, here is all the stuff that we left for you so you wouldn't have to worry about it over the weekend." CONFOUNDIT! I'm sure as heck WORRIED NOW!

But in the requite, we can remember than Mondays are not all so bad. Mondays are day of new beginning, breaking bad habits, easing back into the week. Besides, it's only five more days till FRIDAY!

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In the beginning, Jinyu created her weblog. Now the weblog was empty and formless, vauge defaults over the surface of the css, and Jinyu was just getting ready to test the waters. And Jinyu wrote, "Let there be a journal entry!" and there was a journal entry and she called the entry "In the beginning" and she called the emptiness rather boring and not particularily useful. Then she said, "Man... I really hope this whole thing doesn't take seven days" and there was evening and there was morning - the first day."

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