8 October 2001
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This is pure Monday randomness. There's no reason to any of my thoughts, they just all exist, tumbled about. An update about the fire. I was never in any real danger, but at 4:30 in the morning when you wake up to smoke in your apartment, logistics are of little concern. The creepy thing about it is that the apartment that caught on fire is basically my place's mirror - the exact location, and exact apartment, just on the other side of the parking lot. The assumed cause? A cigarette that someone had thrown out into the mulch below. It caught on fire and shot up the wall to the porch and consumed the entire place. The outside smelled like smoke throughout the weekend, but by the time I woke up Friday morning (a mere two hours after I posted) the smell in my apartment was barely noticeable. This morning I found a message in a bottle waiting in my inbox. A short email from a boy I once loved. He's in the military - the Navy or the Marines, I'm not sure. We were no longer in touch when he was commissioned. Is he headed off to war and wants to mend old fences? Is he sick? I don't know what to think, so I wait. They now sell Diet Coke with lemon. This product was made for me. But I don't want to buy a 12er without tasting it first. Yet, I haven't seen it for sale individually or even by 6-pack. See my dilemma? When the bombing began, I was blissfully unaware, cuddled in bed under my big white comforter. Not understanding at first what Peter was rambling about and why he was on ABC on a Sunday afternoon. Is it not time for football? People. The Bin Laden tee shirts. Are they necessary? I actually saw a Calvin pissing on Bin Laden's head. At Saturday's Ohio State game, a friend was wearing a PAC 10 sweatshirt, cause you know, it was cold and all, and a guy came up to him and said - "You must have an extra nut (or a half a nut, a nut and a half? We couldn't really hear the crazy fucker) to wear that here. But you're white and American and that's all I care about. At least you don't have a towel on your head." I was dumbstruck. How do college graduates (and I know he was because he was hanging around with some of Mo's ex's fraternity brothers [get that?]) or ANYONE get to be such idiots? It's strange to just be waiting in line at Cup O Joe in the airport and listen to a punch of airport cops and a guy in a brown suit wearing an FAA jacket just shoot the shit. I waited for my friend's plane and watched groups of National Guardsmen with black MP cuffs on their sleeves. Their presence did make me feel safer, even though they looked so young. Younger than even me. I'm scared for them, though. And sad. It was that kind of perfect Fall weekend where the air is the perfect combination of crisp and cool, the leaves have surrendered their summery greenness and Autumn has settled into your blood. I took Friday off and had a really relaxing, great day. That night a group of us went for sushi at my favorite place in the Short North. The crowd is always a mix and on Friday nights a DJ spins in the back, pumping music through the restaurant. Oh, and let it be known that I only eat rolls, not nigiri. (I'm sure I misspelled that.) Yummy rolls with avocado or cream cheese or spicy tuna? Yes please. Raw fish slapped on some rice? No thanks. Saturday was beyond sweater weather and it was full of football. What more could you want? The game was full of mini-adventures and stories. On the cab ride to campus, the driver decided he wanted to race some leather jacket wearin', bandana-headed dude on a Harley. We giggled in sheer terror all the way up High Street as our dingy navy cab roared up the road. At a light Harley Man motioned for us to roll down a window, and when Miranda's boyfriend JT went for the button the cab driver triggered the locks. After arriving on campus we walked to our usual spot which was crazy packed. (Oh and the entire walk there aforementioned PAC 10 sweatshirt wearing friend was verbally accosted. Those crazy drunk Bucks.) Saturday was a night game, and I know some people had been there since noon. On a big screen t.v., set up in a parking lot, we watched the Buckeyes dominate. After one touchdown a Hard Lemonade-y Miranda decided to bump chests with JT. It was really one of the funniest things I've ever seen. It seems strange to talk of other things when we're at WAR. But it feels so anti-climatic. Will everything after 9/11? The strikes were imminent and seem almost like an afterthought. Oh, they started? Okay. Yesterday at the airport a young reporter was interviewing people as they waited in the huge security line. She was asking how people felt about flying the day we started strikes, and also what their thoughts were et cetera. Most people sort of shrugged and said they thought military action was necessary, but that they just had to keep on doing their day to day thing. We're all just trying to be normal, but I think we're all still a little numb. It would be disheartening if we weren't. Life is a lot clearer to me these days. It's about the Little Peep, Montego, my friends. It's about standing outside under a sparkly sky cheering for your team, bundled up in the pea coat you haven't worn in a year and sticking your hands in your friend's pockets to warm them up. Life's about laughter and corny jokes and laying on the floor listening to music. It's about your dog finding a frog and giggling as she skitters away when it hops, only to cautiously return to sniffing. It's about unexpected emails and hot coffee and the Sunday paper. Life's about stolen kisses and calling your daddy to wish him a Happy Birthday. And it's about Love. Oh, and the Love
Cruise too. We can't forget that.
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