Life

In honor of Conny's birthday, after much deliberation, we felt it was time to take things to the next step. It seemed, that in this difficult time, a celebration of life is what we needed. After almost a year together, we both knew that the caring for and nurturing of another life would only bring us closer together. And what better day to set out on this task, than a birthday?

We talked for a long time about this decision, knowing that it is a serious one. After all, we are talking about another living thing, not something you can discard when you grow tired of it. And we still face times when we might be apart, and only one of us can look after our little one. Are we prepared?

The answer, with much delight, was yes. Now, the best part: making it happen.

So we went to the pet store, and got a hamster.

He (or she) is a baby dwarf cinnamon hamster. And, on a hamster-scale, the little bugger is living in the Ritz-Carlton. We got a giant tank, and set up all sorts of tubes and houses and nests. At first I thought the little fellow (or lady) might be shook up from the trauma of being pulled from his (or her) hamster-mates, and I was worried we'd overwhelm him (or her.) From the moment we put the furry little ball down, he (or she) has been having a great ol' time. Cute as the dickens, too. We can sit and watch him (or her) for hours.

Now the hard part: what to name him (or her.) I don't want to disturb a sleeping hamster, since they get cranky when you do that, and he's (or she's) had a long day, so to give you a rough idea of the appearance of the new addition to our family, you can look at this link. Soon I'll take a picture myself. But you can look at that picture, and become inspired, and share your thoughts for a name.

And please, we already explored all the insert-hamster-in-your-ass jokes between us, let's avoid that, okay?

posted 11:56 PM | link | 1 comment

Happy Birthday

Having a blog means never actually having to buy a birthday card. Happy Birthday Conny.

Ok, maybe I still have to get a card.

posted 1:40 PM | link | 15 comments

Outside

In the past few days, Conny and I haven't gotten out much together. I've either been at the contingency site for my job, or on standby at home, waiting for calls and trying to help out at work in any way I can. When we go out, we usually just out to run an errand, and come right back.

Today, I felt it would be alright to pop out for a bit. Things at work were at a bit of standstill because most vendors I needed to speak to about work weren't around, it being Sunday and all. Since we are a bit shut-in, the goal was to seek out some indoor diversions. We set out for Union Square, to hit Barnes & Noble, and the Virgin Megastore.

The weather was mild and bright, so with the exception of shooting down from 42nd to 14th via the A train, we walked. It almost felt normal again, though posters with pleas for information about missing people and lit candles on the street would catch the eye. The bustle was back, to a degree, though subdued.

We hit the bookstore first, since Conny consumes books the way most people go through potato chips. Conny stumbled across the books of Lauren Henderson, who defines her genre as "tart noir." We picked up Black Rubber Dress and Freeze My Margarita. I'm hoping Conny won't burn through them in a day.

From the bookstore, we headed across Union Square park, which was packed with people. Here posters for lost and missing loved ones were in abundance. Memorial shrines with flowers and candles lined the paths. Impromptu artwork from sculptures to chalk drawings on the brick paths called for remembrance and togetherness. Bands solemnly performed music and sang for peace and unity while those around them held candles. A sign outside a playground declared "This is a hate-free zone." Thoughts of anger, revenge and retribution were not to be seen. The display of humanity was touching.

Slipping into the Virgin there, we looked around for some entertainment software, but found the selection lacking. The Times Square Virgin store is better for software, apparently. After enjoying an iced tea in the cafe and watching the Square, we ducked into the subway and rode up Broadway. Once inside the store, we winnowed down our choices to two titles. The Sims, for the Mac, and SimThemepark for the PC. Being a cross-platform household has some benefits.

I know neither of these titles are brand new, but the Sims is a safe bet for a way to waste a lot of hours. Conny had played an older version of Themepark, and this one did look like fun. And, at this point, we could use some pleasant diversions.

posted 9:47 PM | link | 4 comments

Seeing is not believing

Here's a small gallery of images of places in my world, and what happened to them on Tuesday.

posted 2:04 AM | link | 0 comments

Dig we must

What is there to do but try to pick up some pieces and move forward? Even if it is just one step, I suppose it's the only choice I have. The hardest about taking that step is the sheer volume of futile waiting it involves.

We scramble around at work, trying to establish a small sense of order, but so little progress is made. I feel like I'm accomplishing nothing. But we are making progress, as small as it might be.

Shuffling out of the Contingency Center around 10PM, we are tired. I share a ride with two people I work with, but they both live in Brooklyn, so that's our destination. It's too difficult to get in and out of Manhattan still. At least I can take the subway to and from Brooklyn, but it means at least an extra thirty minutes of travel time for me to get home, and that's after the almost hour ride from New Jersey through Staten Island, to Brooklyn.

As we approach Manhattan, a column of ghostly smoke cuts the night sky where the Trade Center once was. The Manhattan Battery tunnel, like a cauterized wound, is closed with red warning flares and trucks with flashing lights. Periodically emergency vehicles pass us swiftly in a lane dedicated to them. So much to do. So much to heal.

I am deposited at the A line subway, and descend. Even here, in Brooklyn, streets are closed and police are in abundance. I am not far from the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge. Just two days ago, refugees from the Financial District made an exodus across its span to safety. Most of them were walking the bridge for the first time in their lives. Now that span is empty, sealed to all but official traffic.

I am weary, and wanting to be home. I want the subway ride to be over. Unlike the journey in, that took the F train route which doesn't go as far south, this A train takes the regular route. This means we will pass through Chambers Street station. That is where I would get off for the World Trade Center on the times I took the A or C. Usually I take E, because after Canal Street, it goes on another track, and makes a final stop at World Trade Center. The Chambers Street stop is connected to the World Trade Center station by a long hall, about a two minute walk.

I get up from my seat on the subway and move to the door. The train will not stop at Chambers, or Canal Street or Spring Street for that matter, but at Chambers, I am passing underneath a mass grave. This is where the Towers died, and with them, so many people who were just at work, earning a living. I want to see my old station.

The train slows after we cross under the East River and enter Manhattan. We carefully roll along the track, the usual crashing and rattling of the subway car respectfully silenced. Quietly, we creep through the tunnel, like a frightened child tiptoeing through a graveyard. It feels like everyone on the car is holding their breath.

We float through a dark Chambers station, lit by only a few emergency lights. The light seems brighter, reflected off the white dust which has managed to penetrate even underground. The platform looks like it has been abandoned for years. As we leave the station, I can't help but think about what the streets above look like. Three days ago, there was a shining monument to engineering brilliance and financial might above me. Now there is nothing but rubble and carnage to draw rats.

As we get distance between us and the dead, the train slowly accelerates and emerges into West 4th Street station, the first stop in Manhattan from Brooklyn now. The doors open, and a man steps into the train. Dust covers his clothing, a heavy-duty dust mask hangs around his neck, and a fresh American flag bandana is on his head, striking in its cleanliness. In his hands he holds a hard hat and a pair of canvas work gloves. A yellow utility flashlight hangs securely from his belt.

It is hard not to stare at him. I wonder what he saw today, what images are etched in his mind. I want to talk to him, but I cannot bring myself to intrude. I feel myself wanting to do something for him, to offer comfort or support. But his face is a grim mask, his jaw slack, his mouth open slightly like a sound should emerge from it. But there is no sound. He leans against the doors, and seems unusually motionless in a jostling subway car. There is a gravity about him.

I stand next to him as we approach my stop. His eyes are scanning the car slowly, but its like he doesn't see anyone. I glance over at him, one final time before the doors open to let us off. An American flag is attached to his dust-covered backpack. Our eyes meet as I step off the train, and I realize that words are useless right now. In all that I can see in his face, I am sure my face is no less clear.

I walk home in the cool night air, to catch a few hours sleep, only to have turn around and go back to work. Each of us here, in our way, toils to restore our world. I am grateful I am not faced with more horror in my efforts.

posted 11:59 PM | link | 0 comments

Taken

I am grateful to be alive. With so many lives lost, it is a miracle that the people I know, care about, and love haven't been hurt or lost.

I sit here at the Contingency Center for my office. It's in Piscataway, New Jersey. It is a windowless data center, with rows and rows of Ikea-style desks. It is controlled chaos. We struggle to find computers and restore data. We stand around and wait. I have no phone, no desk. How I will get to and from this place in the coming weeks is unclear, as are so many things.

It is unlikely I will ever see the inside of my former place of work again. It is unlikely my company will return to Manhattan.

I always thought my job didn't matter to me. It is a paycheck. The daily slog I make to secure a means of support.

I was a fool.

It matters. It matters a lot. I liked where I worked. I liked how I worked. I liked my commute. I liked the walk through the World Trade Center plaza when the weather was pleasent, and even when it was cold and blustery. I liked how bands and events were often were staged in the Plaza. I could catch a glimpse of the culture and life of this great city, simply by going home. I liked the Winter Garden, and felt proud when people would come to visit me there. I liked to sneak outside at lunch, and write in the sun, sitting on a bench looking out at the Hudson. So many things were so good.

It is gone now. Forever. Taken from me. I have no control over my life right now. Things will be day to day. There will be no good news for a long time.

I feel petty for mourning these things. So many have lost so much more than me. But today, for the first time, outside of the shelter of my apartment and the woman I love, I see that my life has been thrust into a chaos from which there is no retreat. There is no choice but to step forward into an uncertain future, one day at a time.

I want my life back.

posted 9:33 PM | link | 6 comments

Continuing the Cycle

Anger is not our friend. Striking out in hatred, with a thirst for blood, is folly. From Boing Boing:

Welcome to the Kristallnacht II rehearsals. Moslems, brown people and Arabs need not apply:

• 300 demonstrators marched on a Mosque in Bridgeview, IL ("I'm proud to be American and I hate Arabs and I always have," said 19-year-old Colin Zaremba who marched with the group from Oak Lawn.")
  
• Molotov cocktail tossed into a Moslem community center in Chicago
  
• Armed robber in Gary Indiana threatens a Yemeni-American gas-station attendant with a high-powered assault rifle
  
• A drunk driver in Huntington, NY tried to run down a Pakistani woman in a parking lot, then followed her into a store and threatened to kill her for "destroying my country."
  
• In Australia, a schoolbus carrying Moslem children was stoned
  
• In Australia, a Lebanese church is burned
  
• Jish, a local blogger, is chased out of the coffee shop by rednecks who want to know if he's Afghani.
  
• Muslim students at the University of Texas are subject to search

Anyone who engages in insanity like this against innocent people has let the terrorists win. This is what they wanted, and it's being given to them. This type of lashing out is the exact same mentality held by the people who did the attack in the first place. Let us not be perpetrators of stupid violence done in the name of righteousness.

Calm, people, please be calm.

Thanks, Boing Boing, for gathering up information on what I was afraid was going to happen.

posted 11:39 AM | link | 22 comments

Work

From the Nomura web site: "Nomura Securities Inc.’s offices in the World Financial Center have been extensively damaged." I have no idea what that means, other than it may be a while before I can go to work. I can only imagine what shape the Winter Garden is in, the huge glass atrium, which was in the shadow of the Towers.

Our company has a disaster recovery office in New Jersey, but it's only for a few critical people. I may have to go there tomorrow to set up some systems, but after that, it's a waiting game. Of being available, in case there's a need. As soon as the crush of current donors begins to wane, I hope this arrangement gives me time to donate blood.

Conny and I stepped out only to run some errands, since I need to be accessible and by a phone. Next to my building is the local fire department. As we walked back, we could see it was surrounded by flowers, and notes of condolence and support. Undoubtedly, many of them will never come back.

Just as I think I might be able to stop thinking about the suffering and anguish, for just a moment, I am confronted with the horror yet again.

posted 4:44 PM | link | 4 comments

Anniversary

"Yes, yet another web log. Certainly not what the world needs, but I am too lazy for anything else."

It was one year ago today I started with this nonsense. Who knew I'd manage to stick to this for a whole year? Not me.

In light of what's happened yesterday, it doesn't feel particularly significant. I was going to have a contest of some kind, and offer some Nosuch crap from the store as the prize, but I can't get in the mood right now. I think I'll defer the contest a wee bit.

I'm humbled and flattered by all the people who take a moment once in awhile to read this drivel. In a weird way, all of you have helped make me a marginally better person. I know, it's slow going, but you need to remember you're dealing with an idiot here... It's not your fault.

posted 9:39 AM | link | 5 comments

Roster

Someone asked me yesterday what companies had offices in the World Trade Center. The Washington Post lists the companies in Tower 1 and Tower 2.

posted 8:52 AM | link | 0 comments

Quiet

The City is a ghost town. The streets are empty of cars, and quiet like I've never heard it before. Many places that would be open are closed, and even the places that are open are strangely hushed. We walked by various roadblocks at some interesections, with police or city workers sitting in trucks looking tense and drained. One cop was covered in ash, his dusk mask around his neck. I can't imagine what he's seen today.

We passed a woman, standing outside a doorway holding a bag of groceries, just sobbing. Who did she lose today?

This cuts across us all so deeply. Almost every person I pass seems to let their concerned gaze linger longer on me, and I know that I too, am returning that look. We all see each other, and think "Are you okay?"

We are not okay, though. But we will survive.

posted 10:32 PM | link | 2 comments

Gratitude

I am grateful that no one I know personally has been harmed by today's attack. I am grateful that luck spared me from witnessing the horror first hand.

I am also thankful for all the people who have reached out to Conny and me, with kind offers, prayers, and loving concern. On this crazy thing we call the Internet, it is amazing how many gracious people I find myself lucky enough to be connected to.

Thank you all.

posted 6:55 PM | link | 3 comments

Blame and Vengence

In my zombie-like state, devoid of a TV to relentles repeat the lack of real information about what happened, I'm left to roam the net.

Yeah, I know, not a much better source of information than the TV.

But, two things I saw really made me think.

Someone observed that after the Oklahoma bombing, all fingers pointed to "Islamic Fundementalist" as the people behind such an act. In the end, it turned out to be some Americans.

I'm not suggesting that Americans were behind this attack. What I think is important is for us realize we just don't know. Stranger shit has happened before.

And the other concern I have is a sudden willingness to turn from freedom to security. Not that any form of security we could obtain by giving up freedoms could have stopped something like that. Except, perhaps, airport security... Giving law enforcement more powers over citizenry isn't the answer here. I would hate to see this tragedy nudge us towards a totalitarian state.

Blind vengence will not bring back the dead. Revenge will not cause the Towers to arise out of the ashes. I want to see justice done to the criminals who did this, but I know that there will be no satisfaction from justice. But there's no satisfaction from anything. That, unfortunately, is the nature of tragedy. But no matter how dispicable the deed, I will not allow myself to embrace hatred, or to endorse actions that might cause the death of more innocents. There are no simple solutions to this madness, and the greatest danger is decending into that madness ourselves.

posted 6:49 PM | link | 21 comments

Gone

When Conny came for her second visit to New York, I took her to the World Trade Center. I myself had never been to the observatory, and I thought it would give her a great view of my city.

I had no idea how expensive it was, nor that there was over an hour wait.

We were pressed for time, and the day was so nice, we decided to skip it. After all, we could go some other time. It would always be there.

...or maybe not.

Things are extra quiet with the skies empty.

When I eventually manage to get back to work, and knowing New York City, life will start to move on fairly quickly, even with a disaster of this magnitude, I will have a view of the twisted scar of what was the World Trade Center. From 18 floors up, I will have a bird's eye seat to the damage done.

It might be best if we just lower the blinds.

posted 6:12 PM | link | 4 comments

Aftermath

It's a beautiful, sunny warm day in New York. Yet the shadow of today's attack weighs heavily. It's visible on the faces of people on the street, who walk with more purpose than usual. There is disbelief on the faces of people waiting in lines at payphones, which are now essential since cellular networks are jammed. Phone calls placed to the city usually don't even go through.

But, there is no panic. Shell shock, yes, but panic, no. Cars are stopped in long lines, silently in the street. People are focused on either getting home safely, or waiting.

Conny and I were forced out of the apartment to get some news, since I have no cable feed here. We hit a local pub, which was packed. All eyes were on the televisions, which were tuned to various networks. Many people in suits sat around, slowly sipping beers. Women, dressed sharply for work, stared into space, teary-eyed. We order some food as we watch, but neither of us can eat much. There is no good news to be had. More information doesn't provide anything but more anguish.

The sound of sirens is frequent. As we walked on the street, two men walked by.

"I should be dead. I was supposed to be in a meeting at the Trade Center this morning!"

I hear you, brother.

The people I work with all made it out of the World Financial Center safely, but affected. The scene was horrible. The magnitude is beyond comprehension. I have no idea what the next few days will be like. Everything is different now.

posted 2:55 PM | link | 11 comments

Good day to be sick

It's spooky when you suddenly start getting all these ICQ messages asking "Are you alright?"

Of course I'm fine. I was feeling a bit under the weather, which was a good excuse to call in sick so I could finish and practice my presentation.

Then I'm told: Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center.

Geez.

Now I don't work in the World Trade Center, but I pass through there every day. I work in the World Financial Center, which is damn close. Close enough, in fact, that after the bombing, they eventually decided to send everyone in the World Financial Center home too.

So, anyone who is worrying about me. Don't worry. I am fine. Never has a sick day been better timed.

posted 9:52 AM | link | 21 comments

Sweating Bullets

The curse of being a perfectionist is never being done. I've vowed to myself that all work on my presentation will cease after tomorrow, since I actually have to do it Wednesday. I don't want to over-prepare or over-rehearse, because I'll suck the life out of the damn thing. I'm giving myself all of Wednesday to conserve my energy.

I've done classes before, but this is more like a performance, and it's a hell of a lot more personal. And, never being one to miss an opportunity, I'm really trying to push myself to deliver something outstanding.

Right now, I feel a bit out of my league. The good news is I have enough faith in myself to muddle through it with what I have right now. The bad news is I really, really don't want to just muddle through it.

Conny and I met with Jeff for dinner. He's one of the co-hosts of the the T.E.S. Novice group, and the one that tricked invited me to present. I went over the outline, and talked about the opening. He had some good words of advice, and felt pretty comfortable with what I've got. That made me feel a bit better.

I'd wish for one more week to prepare, but I'd just piss it away like I did all the the other weeks I had. My pacing is horrible.

posted 11:37 PM | link | 1 comment