dieci anni fa

10 years ago I was a junior at UT.  I was living in my very first apartment with 2 sorority sisters at Riverside Place with a great view of the Texas-shaped pool.  

10 years ago I was getting ready for my Texas History class with Dr. Neil Foley.  I had just gotten out of the shower and turned on the TV to watch the Today show.  The images on included the World Trade Center with smoke billowing out.  I didn't think anything of it and there weren't really any captions, so I went about my business and got dressed.  I noticed that the image hadn't changed in a couple of minutes and stopped what I was doing to watch.  I didn't understand what was happening.  Was there a fire?  There's was tons of smoke.  

10 years ago I called to my roommates, who for some odd reason didn't have a TV in the living room, and told them the tower was on fire.  It was a definitely a must watch moment.  I don't know if they were ignoring me or had other things to do, but as I sat in front of the TV on my bed I watched as the other tower was hit by a plane.  For a surprise attack, it was definitely well-documented.  The images of people falling and the towers crashing down are something you can't forget, no matter how hard you try.

Did you ever watch Signs with Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix?  There's a part where Phoenix is watching the alien sighting from Brazil being broadcast over the news and he's taken aback by the images.  I imagine that's what I did when I saw the tower get hit.  It was definitely surreal.

10 years ago I remember hearing a report that the Pentagon had been hit.  

I immediately busted out my cellphone and dialed Zora.  

No answer. 

I left a message and then called Gina.  

No answer.  

Last resort, I called Lil Chris.  

No answer.  

My sorority sisters and ex had gotten fabulous internships in DC and decided to room together.  Their house was located a couple blocks from the Pentagon.  Eventually, someone called back and let us know that everyone was okay and a little shaken up.

10 years ago after what felt like hours, it was said that all air traffic was halted and people were to proceed with caution.  I didn't want to get an absence, so I decided to head to class.  I was worried that Austin would be a target considering that President Bush had recently taken office and was the former Governor of Texas. I don't know why I thought Austin would be a worthy target, but I did.  I jumped on the bus and kept an eye on the sky in case I saw any activity.  Nothing.  In passing by the Capitol, the gates were barricaded by state troopers.  No one was getting in or out.  I finally got to class at Garrison Hall and Dr. Foley announced that due to the events of that morning class would be cancelled.  I don't think I attended any of my other classes that day, either.  The rest of the day is  a blur, but I do remember feeling uneasy, unsettled, and scared.

After those events, stuff changed. 

People changed.

The country changed.

And in a way, intelligence changed.

I don't mean reconnaissance; well it definitely did.

I mean ignorance skyrocketed. 

I remember being able to drive through the Capitol grounds to get to class.  Especially, if I was in a hurry, it helped to shave off a good five minutes.  Since September 11, 2001, only senators and representatives are able to drive on to the property.  I've also heard from photographers that taking pictures has become slightly more constricted due to worries of military and government intelligence.  

I remember there was a radio ban on certain songs.  o.O you ask?  The one that sticks out in my mind is Drowning Pool.  They had a pretty popular song the year before called "Bodies" and it was banned becos the song starts out:

     Let the bodies hit the floor.
     Let the bodies hit the floor.

     Let the bodies hit the floor.

     Let the bodies hit the...FLOOR!

Why is it that the Arts have to suffer in times of tragedy? If anything, it's a means of healing and coping. It's medicine for the soul. It just seems really backwards to me.

So what am I doing 10 years later?

September 11, 2011, at midnight, Maund and I, George and Kiera, and Maund's parents were huddled around the kitchen table talking about random things and enjoying BBQ, sweets, and drinks.  Earlier, my brother-in-law, Isaac, had passed out in his chair at the table.  As a drunk he has kick ass balance.  My sister-in-law was sprawled out in all her pregnant glory on the couch dozing in and out of sleep.  My kids were surrounding the table waiting for food scraps.

This morning I slept in till 09:00.  Once downstairs and connected to the internet, I realized that I had missed all the 9/11 coverage from the early morning.  I honestly forgot how early I would wake up for the class and that these events all happened before 10:00 10 years ago.

I think Maund and I are finally gonna tell his folks what's been going on with us and our losses.  Not to make them sad, but to include them more in our lives.  I already had the chance to tell  my parents the day after my birthday party, and honestly, a little weight was lifted off my shoulders when I did.  Maybe this is what we need for some closure.

For those who spent the night, we feasted on breakfast fare and no one mentioned 9/11.  I don't think anyone remembered and I didn't feel like bringing it up, either.  For the rest of the day I may read and write.  Also, no memory could be complete without talking to you. That's one thing that I'd like to remember when someone asks me, "So, what did you do 10 years after the tragedy of 9/11?" 

I talked to you. <3

l'apocalisse II

It appears that we’re on a bus and the person in charge of the tour group asks me to help him out.  I’m with my dad, who looks tired, so I ask him to sit down and rest.  There’s a black family that was sitting in the middle of the bus, but they all seem to pass out and I attempt to get them moved.  This bus is parked directly facing the front of a nice hotel on a main street, and next to a cheaper building.

Inside the cheaper building, the group I’m with has a whole floor and I assume we’re closer to the top of this building.  High enough to need an elevator.  The person in charge asks me to start handing out 2 forms.  One is agenda of the tour, the other is a map.  I hand them all out and I see that there are rooms that young adults are going in.  These are their dorm rooms. I had been placing the forms in their rooms.  I knock on one door and the guy takes the forms from me.  I walk down the hall and a group of 3 girls are walking in to their room.  I tell them, “Hey, we just caught wind that someone is planning on bombing the ------- Hotel across the street later, so we need to evacuate.”  I hand them the forms I was passing out and say, “If you’re gonna take a shower, make sure you hurry up becos we’re leaving soon!”  I could see that they were really sweaty, like one would be after a workout.  The next door I move on to is slightly ajar and when I open it, there’s another door behind it.  I thought it was a fake door and someone yells out, “That’s the vampire’s room. Just knock to see if he’s there.”  I knock and hear him yell back in a kind, jovial voice, “Hold on a minute,” and this tall brunette appears.  He invites me in and I repeat that we’re needing to evacuate becos of the supposed bombing.  I go to hand him a form, but I realize I’ve run out. He politely refuses and asks, “How do we know it’s true?  And do you think it’s really gonna reach us? We’re on the other side of the street.”  Suddenly, the room begins to tremble and I can see that we’re slowly moving downwards, but the room is still intact.  My instinct is to try to get out through the door, but it’s too late. I turn around to vampire boy and there’s a hole where he was standing.  I call out to him and hear that he’s still arguing on whether or not it’s necessary to evacuate!  After awhile I can’t hear him anymore.  The room starts to rotate and it’s a scene straight out of Wipeout!  I steady myself between three walls as the room rotates vertically, these walls are similar to dry wall and not so harsh.  The room finally stops rotating but I’ve lost 2 walls.  The ceiling and floor sandwich me in and I tell myself that I need to stay near an opening or brace/wedge myself between the two walls in a way that will not break my bones or cause me too much pain.  I can now see that I’m sinking past all these other levels until I stop again.  It’s a brightly lit room with plastic/iron school chairs stacked, like a storage room.  It’s white and I see an opportunity to get out.  I hesitate thinking it’s not the right floor to get out on, but I notice that the room is still sinking and there’s water starting to pool.  I rush to get out and the floor keeps on sinking.  I realize I would have drowned.  

I look up and the wall between the storage room and this warehouse area has been knocked down but there’s an opening to the building, kinda like a loading dock.  The floor is filling up with water so I high tail it out of there and that’s when I remember that earlier I had stepped on something harsh that hurt my foot.  Nothing bad, but definitely annoying.  As I’m stumbling through the water trying to get out there are random shoes.  I find a not so wet area and start trying out shoes.  The first one was too small.  The last vision I had was knelt down trying on shoes on my right foot, tying the laces and looking up at the arched doorway leading to the outside with the daylight waiting for me.  It was bittersweet to know I had survived.  I had survived.  And yet I was frightened to walk into that light becos I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I was afraid.  And there was an eeriness that it might be the beginning of the Apocalypse.

Earlier in the dream, my husband and I are looking for properties.  I remember meeting a 20-something blonde guy at a hotel bar who promised to show us his father’s property.  When pulling up to the house you see a large 2-story home on a corner lot.  From the outside he shows us where the master bedroom is located and it’s gorgeous balcony.  The floor level has 2 bedrooms next to each other, but they each are 2 story and have access to their own balconies.  To the right of the house is a small driveway and a 2 car garage, and to the left of the house, under the master bedroom there’s a great deck painted brown.  I start to sand the deck and notice that the wood grain is absolutely beautiful.  There’s a camera crew filming a woman talking about how she had seen the house before, but didn’t think it was so great becos of a $30,000 price difference “but I’ll keep it on my maybe list.”  The show was Property Virgins or My First Place on HGTV.  I say to the guy showing us around, “You must have had some awesome family get-togethers out here!”  He looks at me and gives me a half grin.  He then walks us around the back of the house into a mudroom, which opens up to a galley style kitchen and breakfast nook.  We’re then greeted by his dad who is cooking up lunch and 3 excited dogs.  As we venture further into the house we see that the breakfast nook opens up to the living room.  It’s gorgeous and I get a feeling that we’re putting in an offer. 

The guy showing us around looks exactly like Alex Pettyfer from the movie Beastly. He seems very detached, quiet, with a nothing-to-lose attitude. We make small talk with him, but I don’t remember what it was about.  But in a sequence of flashes I see him at the top of a building doing a swan dive, with the building behind him bursting into puffs of gray, yellow, and orange.  As he’s falling I can see that the building is a hotel that I’m familiar with. 

_________________________________________

I dreamt this on August 14, 2011.  I can’t remember what happened in between the house scene and the bus scene, but like so many other dreams, it felt somewhat real.  It must have been set in a larger city with large apartment-type buildings like NYC or Chicago.  I also had an overwhelming urge to cry when I woke up, but I fought back the impulse.

è scritto

 مكتوب 

mio zio

April 14, 1946 - August 19, 2011

Tomorrow I pay my respects to my Tio Nene.  It takes just under 3 hours to drive to Uvalde, TX and we will be passing through Sabinal.  Oh, how I dread driving through there.  Call it a love/hate relationship, and right now we're broken up and have been for a long time.

The last time I was in Uvalde for a funeral was when my high school sweetheart's father passed away in December 1998.  It'll be the same funeral home, too.  My cousin Lisa said it would be a Catholic mass and we joked about all the physical exertion required during these events.  The standing and sitting, then standing and kneeling, then standing and...well you get the pix.  It's almost like doing holy lunges, which shouldn't hurt as much becos you got you-know-who leading the training.

I saw a video memorial for Tio today and it made me really think about all the time I spent with him.  My absolute favorite memory was visiting Lost Maples with Tio, Tia, Patty and Chiquita.  I must have been 7 or 8 yrs old and had never been there before.  I begged my folks to let me spend the night with Patty the day before and they planned the little hiking trip and round trip to Sabinal to drop me off.  When we took off from Uvalde to Concan, it was a regular drive.  There wasn't anything too exciting about it, until we took a road I had never been on before.  It was windy and the trees were green and and tall and beautiful.  Or maybe it just seemed that way becos it was new.  I remember driving on the side of the hill and thinking we were gonna fall off.  When we got to Lost Maples, we registered and the park ranger asked me and Patty if we wanted to win a prize.  I can just see our eyes light up and agree to the conditions without even knowing what they were.  He gave us each a plastic gift bag with the "Don't Mess With Texas" slogan on both sides and said we had to fill them up with any trash we saw.  At the end of the hike we would turn in what we found and we'd get the prize, which still remained a mystery. We accepted the challenge and were ready for a hike.  I remember how we fought so badly for each scrap of trash we found.  I remember Tio and Tia enjoying the hike.  I remember the streams filled with clean, fresh water inhabited by minnows, fish, all kinds of wildlife! I remember Chiquita getting tired and napping in the shade of a tree along the trail.  Everytime we reached her tree, she would run ahead searching for another spot to lie down until we reached her.  I didn't have to have that much interaction with Tio, but his presence was enough.  He was always the big burly guy and you just always felt safe.

At the end of the hike we went back to the ranger station, bags bursting at the seams, ready to collect our prizes.  We were proudly presented with 2 large, shiny "Don't Mess With Texas" buttons.  I remember feeling kinda bummed, but still proud of my prize.  Only recently did I realize Patty and I were free Mexican child labor. But I wouldn't trade that memory for the world!

Tio was also the one to teach me how to swim under water.  I remember Patty and I wading in the river at Garner State Park around 07:00 or 08:00, listening to Tio instruct us how NOT to breathe underwater.  He taught us in small increments and by lunch time we were pruney, had bloodshot eyes, but guess what, we knew how to swim underwater.  We always, Always, ALWAYS woke up early to get to Garner early to get the good spots.  Then we'd just camp out ALL day.  I miss those times.  I think those were my happiest: at Garner State Park, my family, Patty's family, Sandy's family, BBQ, swimming from sunrise to sunset.  

Why do ham and cheese sandwiches taste so good when you're in the water or have been in there all day???

desideri e domande

Here I am.  The eve of my 30th birthday and I feel like a failure.

I'm having a 3/4 of a mid-life crisis, which is funny becos nowadays people go through mid mid-life crisis. I guess mine just didn't hit me till now.  

I went to bed last night overthinking, overanalyzing my birthday.  At Thanksgiving, I had made it clear that for my 30th birthday I wanted a dinner with my closest friends and family.  My birthday would also have to...HAVE TO...include mariachis in a charismatically lit backyard serenading the guests and myself.   I even wanted my husband's family there.  Come Christmastime, I had reiterated my desire for a dinner and mariachis.  At Maund's cousin's wedding there were mariachis who went from table to table taking requests and AGAIN I expressed my birthday plan.  

So imagine my surprise when my husband approached me Monday, August 1, 2011, asking what I wanted to do for my birthday.  Three days before my birthday!  I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty sure that a tiny piece of my heart died at that moment.  That's an intense thing to say, right? I know, but I've noticed that this year has caused that to happen in me.  I do my best not to let things get to me, but I feel that I try so hard to please other people that I expect the same from them.  I have such high expectations and when they don't follow through I take it personally.  It hurts.  This experience felt like cramming for a test.  You've had all this time to thoroughly prepare for the SATs, but instead you procrastinate until the week of the exam and say, "Well, we could hav a BBQ and invite some people." What does that do? A BBQ is not a 1400 test score.  A BBQ is the credit you get for bubbling in your name on the score sheet. I plan all of my birthdays.  I plan events for other friends.  I help in the orchestration of other events.  I cook Thanksgiving meals.  I cook Christmas meals.  I plan Easter holidays. I bake birthday cakes and attempt to decorate them with other than frosting to coat them.  I wanted someone to care for me.  I wanted someone to say, "I know you've had possibly the worst year of your life, so far.  From Aug 2010 to now, not only have you experienced change, but you've had to endure many losses.  Neither loss is greater than the other, but each loss equally as painful. Let's celebrate you and start a new year with hope and joy."  I want to have a happy event.  I didn't want a consolation prize.  I wanted a well thought out plan.

I look back and think about what I've written and it sounds selfish.  I'm a Leo.  It's in my nature to want to be the center of attention, but that's not really me.  I have a tendency to want to take care of other people.  I have a tendency to protect others.  So maybe this is the selfish, self-centered side coming out in this entry.

This was the kind of toy I got for my birthday.

I started thinking about my childhood and realized that I never had a birthday party.  You're probably wondering, "how is that possible?" or "c'mon, everyone has parties!" Nope.  I have a picture of my 3rd or 4th birthday.  My mom had bought me a new shirt and had baked a cake.  In the picture, there is a Cabbage Patch Kids Talking Phone next to me and my cake as I'm about to blow out the candles.  I remember that day becos I got chocolate frosting all over my shirt and got upset.

I'm guessing that my other birthdays were like that, but I can't remember any of them.  There was never a planned party at McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or Chuck E. Cheese.  There were never house parties with nifty party favors or cartoon themed plates, cups, napkin.  It wasn't until my 18th birthday that a couple of people took notice of the lack of celebration. Barbara, my hometown bestfriend, knew that my family wasn't as well off as hers, but she never ceased to surprise me.  She never missed a birthday or grand event.  For my 18th birthday, she showed up at my door and presented me with a little gift.  She then kidnapped me and said that becos I was now 'legal' it was my mission to buy a pack of cigarettes and porn.  Those were the rights bestowed upon me as an American and that's what we did.  Later that day, I called over to the Garcia's house to see who wanted to hang out.  Wilbur and Bern were brothers and the sons of my Spanish teacher.  We had gotten close and hung out just about every single day that summer.  We played guitars, they taught me chords, they schooled me on classic rock and singer/songwriters from the 60s and 70s, how to exercise, play sports, run, tried to teach me how to cook.  They were only 4 and 6 years older than I was, but we connected on so many levels and I learned a lot from those two.  Bern picked up and mentioned he had just gotten out of work.  Since we were "new" friends, the brothers didn't know when my birthday was, nor did I know theirs. We chatted for awhile and he asked me what I did that day.  I mentioned that Barbara had taken me to go buy cigarettes and porn and he laughed.  He got quiet for a moment and then asked if it was my birthday.  I acknowledge that today was indeed my 18th and he asked what I was doing to celebrate.  Bern wasn't satisfied with my response and said, "I'd like to take you out. Get dressed! Get ready! We're going to the Riverwalk!"  That was the thing to do, go celebrate in San Anto' which is an hour away.  I had so much fun that night.  I got wined and dined and treated important.  Well, not exactly, maybe soda'd and dined would be a better term.  It was a great night and a nice ending to what would have otherwise been a disastrous birthday.

Since then, I try to plan events for my birthdays. Dinner with friends, drinks, maybe go to a club.  Maybe that's why I was hoping that this one would be different.  That someone would want to take care of me.

I thought about all of this as I was trying to go to sleep.  I started crying silently in the dark and it was a little difficult to stop, but through all of that, I never once woke up my husband.  This got me thinking about other things. The night before I had finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and I wondered if I had given up on my own Personal Legend?  When I was younger I had many dreams that I thought I would fulfill.  I never had a time frame, but these were things that I wanted to do.  Now that I'm 3/4 of the way to the halfway mark of my lifespan, it scares me.  What do I have to show for this?  I graduated high school.  I graduated from university.  I lived in Italy. I worked for a non-profit. I'm married.  I have a house and mortgage.  We own 2 cars and will be done paying off a 3rd soon.  We have a cat and 2 dogs.  That seems like a lot, but I want more.  And I felt like the shittiest person in the world becos when I think about my dreams and fantasies, I'm always alone.  I never see my husband in these visions.  I had toyed with the idea of skydiving for our wedding anniversary and found out before booking that Maund is scared of heights.  How did I not know that?  In all the time that I've known him, I just found this out last year.  One dream I have is hiking through the Dolomites and when I close my eyes to envision it, he's not there.  When I was younger, I wanted to be an epidemiologist, but that would require more schooling.  In honing my skills, I realized that I wanted to become a Foreign Services Officer, but to really be considered for a position I would need my masters degree.  And really, that's probably the minimum requirement.  So I definitely need to go back to school and practice my languages more.  Maybe even learn 2 or 3 more.  But even in this dream, I'm by myself. 

Is he holding me back? Or better yet, do I want an excuse so that I don't have to take credit for not fulfilling my Personal Legend?  I would have no one to blame but myself.  Do I still have time to fulfill my Personal Legend or is it too late? I assume I need to do this on my own.  It's a personal journey, but how do I realize my dream when I'm attached to someone else?  And not just someone else, but a complete life which includes hundreds of possessions, a mortgage, and furry friends.  

I would love to find a genie in a lamp.  I could make a couple of changes.

Or better yet, turn back time to one significant moment and change it.  I thought about this last night and I know what that moment would be.  I would go back to the 6th grade and forget about my crush on Colin.  I think that would have changed things dramatically.  It would have saved me a lot of grief growing up in a small town.

I feel awful for having these thoughts.  I feel disgusted for asking these questions.  Honestly, this is the only forum where I can get these thoughts out.  But my biggest fear is that now that I've asked these questions, do I need to answer them or do I continue with life as I know it, ignoring the desires of my heart?  Am I too afraid of answering these questions?

malinconica

16 & Pregnant and Teen Mom are just a couple of my guilty pleasures.  I HEART reality TV! Last night was 16 & Pregnant: Adoption Special and I was stoked becos earlier I had spent a little over 4 hours in an Adoption Resources training for work.  It's interesting that in all the seasons of these shows, only 3 cast members had chosen adoption.  One cast member had a scheduling conflict and wasn't on the show and the two that did attend were on different ends of the spectrum.  I mean, there was one girl who was completely confident that she made the right decision and takes pride in the fact that her daughter is with a great couple.  The other girl stated that she regret her decision and wondered why no one stopped her and goes on to ask if no one thought she could do it by herself?  Well...she chose to do a kin adoption and a month after relinquishing her rights she calls her aunt and uncle and asks for the baby back.  She then goes on to care for the baby for a minute and gives her back to the aunt and uncle.  It goes to show that a teen can't understand that permanency is best for a baby.

But in watching this special it was heartbreaking to see that these girls were experiencing such a grief at such a young age.  Another section of the special showed how there is a support group for teen mothers who have chosen adoption.  It got me thinking and I started doing a search for support groups here in Austin for myself.  I figured a good resource was The Bump since it covers all aspects of pregnancy.  What I didn't consider was that the last time I had visited this site was when I was pregnant.  So when I logged on I was greeted with a message in happy, obnoxious writing exclaiming "YOU'RE 22 WEEKS PREGNANT!"  I about lost it. I immediately edited my profile and made a couple of changes to memorialize this loss. 

I had trouble getting to sleep and when I decided to go to bed I ended up crying into my favorite pillow.  I didn't want to wake my husband, plus he was already annoyed with work that he had brought home.  Seriously annoyed would be a better term.  I hate when he gets into these moods.

I feel alone. I know I'm not, but I can't help but feel so lonely.

nervosa e più arrabbiata II

I called Dr. K's office on Monday to inquire more about the surgery.  The way things work is I call and leave a question for the doctor and someone calls me back with his response.  After thinking things over I decided that the surgery would be the best option and could increase my chances of continuing a pregnancy.  I'm still scared.  Not so much about the surgery, but about feeling vulnerable again. 

I spent the whole day just playing music, sun bathing at Barton Springs, playing with the dogs.  Honestly, I did anything I could do to keep myself from twiddling my thumbs and contemplating worst case scenarios. At the end of a busy work day I get a call from Dr. K's office.  The receptionist informed me that I am to call and schedule my pre-op visit and surgery between Day 6-10 of my next cycle.  I chuckled.  Then I realized that she sounded confused becos she wasn't aware of my history.  I blurted out, "What if I don't have normal periods?" She definitely didn't know how to answer my question and I knew the answer.  You don't get a normal period, then you're gonna be waiting a long fucking time for this surgery.  She suggested that if I don't get a period next month to call back and see what else we could do.  I assume Provera, but who knows.

Did Dr. K not hear me when I said I was eager to do this?  Am I too eager?  Is there something I'm not seeing?  I'm just come out and say it...

I want a baby...

NOW!

Maybe this won't be such a bad thing, right? I could pay off some bills and start saving up more money, huh? I should look for another job, huh?  I could pawn or sell some stuff, huh?  I need guidance.  I need someone to show me or tell me what to do.  Ah, I'm just playing the victim. I know what I need to do, I just wish I didn't have to.