Ever since I’ve been back, my attitude has been infectious. When I walked into work the other day, after Beaker kissed me on the cheek, my coworkers instantly recognized something different and were totally giving me shit. “What got into YOU? Even youre hair is different!” (It’s true, my hair was down in its naturally wavy/messy/ratty state when i usually wear it pulled back).
My coworker, the bulldog, has been taking a page from my book, following my advice meticulously. And then last night, success. He and this girl he met…held hands in the car. He IMed me today to thank me.
Then theres Giselle’s friend, who she has been trying to convince to hang out w/me/us. “You need to hang out with DX, I swear it will rub off on you.” I don’t mind having another student.
The funny side effect of this whole thing, is that dating, or having potential couple situations has granted me membership into the couples/marrieds club. The other day, my friend Miss M asked me to get drinks w/her and her husband. “It will be so fun!” she added. Of course, this implied that I bring along one of my boy toys, namely Beaker. Everyone is really anxious to meet him.
On another note–September 11–and I know I should feel sad, but the truth is, my life has continued as normally as it ever could, and a part of me feels guilty for that. I was reading an article today in the NYtimes about time lost on 9/11–how plans shifted and changed bc of what happened, and how you can never go back to those moments.
I can remember every single detail of that day. They way the light hit my room. The way X2 felt beside me. Every single moment, every single second, I can recall with the most vivid moment. And its true–I have no idea what I planned to do that day. I remember X2 had stayed the night (a rare occassion in those awkward early relationship days) but I don’t know why, or what we had planned to do, or any of that. I just remember wanting to hold onto him so tightly. And I remember we stayed up all night–together–glued to the tv, wondering what the hell would happen. Realizing instantly that everything had changed.
Now he’s far away, 4 years have passed, but I will forever remember those moments with him. Whenever I think of the significance of this day, he will be there.
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Unrelated, but I wanted to mention that today, when I walked to starbucks to get my coffee, I noticed a small memorial littered w/flowers near this french restaurant on 24th st. When I stopped to look, I noticed pictures of this lady who used to always sit outside the restaurant. She always wore a heavy black sweater and a french beret. Her hair was a calming white. Her feet, twisted into knots by some ailment, were visible from her extremely worn and ripped black velcro tennis shoes. She used 2 canes to walk–her gait shaky, unstable, and laborious. She moved with such effort. I don’t really know her story, except that I saw her all the time at the same location–always with a smile, and always talking to people who passed by. I always wanted to say something to her, but I never did. And now she is gone, and for some reason, I feel incredibly sad for this person that I never knew. Sad that I never even said hello.
Anyway, her name was Jessie. That’s her real name. For some reason it really bothers me to think that she could have died alone.
