Sorry for the lack of posts this last week. This has been a crazy week, and a very unproductive week as well, unfortunately.
First thing, on... Monday I think... I was driving out to steve's house in an awful storm, and I was probably not farther than 3 or 4 minutes away from his house when there was a lightning strike right over what looked like his subdivision. The lightning connected with something, (you could tell by the way it continued flashing after the initial strike) and was so close I saw it dissipate just poof in the sky. I was anxious to get to steve's house and get inside to safety. Behind steve's house is an acre of forest, and the entrance to his subdivision is through a couple of acres of forest. When I got to his driveway, I looked back toward the entrance, and I saw white smoke coming from the entrance, so I figured the lightning had hit a tree and started a forest fire. I called 911 (the lady couldn't really understand me because my cell phone is a POS) and explained that I thought there was a forest fire, when, to my surprise, the smoke turned black. And fellow wyomingnites, what do we know about a brush fire that burns white and suddenly turns black? That's right, it's a structure. I disconnected from the lady on 911, and at that time steve had arrived home, and I said, lets go find it. As a side note: Anyone who knows me knows i'm extremely afraid of fire. What exactly compelled me to find this fire is still a mystery to me. The rain had basically slowed to a dull roar, and so steve and I jumped in the car and off we went to find the fire. We went to the subdivision next to his, and after some firetruck chasing, and a wrong turn, we come upon this: I parked the car and steve jumped out and ran over to snap more pictures. Forgive the quality, they were taken with his camera phone.
I'll post more in just a second, but by the time we got there, there was only 1 fire truck and the ambulance. I parked out of the way so more could get in, and eventually there were 2 firetrucks, a ladder truck (which was so cool) and a couple of ambulances. The lady that lived next door was also evacuated (her siding and the house on the other side's siding were melted) and was screaming in her cell phone out of sheer panic, but was okay. A little soaked from the rain, but okay. So here's the story:
The owner was out at the grocery store or somewhere, and his roommate was at home watching TV. The lighting struck, and the roommate said he looked at the light switch, and at that moment, all of the switches and sockets within sight lit up. He jumped up called 911 and got out. Nobody was hurt. Owner could not be reached but his house was a total loss. The only thing they managed to save was a set of golf clubs and a picture of a palmetto tree. You can see the ladder truck shooting the water in through the ceiling into the house.
I'm not normally an ambulance chaser, but for some reason, this incident drew me in. It made me think a lot about the time I set my room on fire and how really lucky mom and I were that we got that fire out. I love my mom, and I'm so glad that she was there with me. So that was something that happened this week that I wanted to blog about.
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Next thing: Went and saw jackass II. Go see it. It was funny.
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Last thing: It is official ladies and gentlemen. Steve and I are now dating. After a year of friendship, he finally decided to commit to a relationship with me. I'm really happy, but I hope we can make it work.
And for those who can't watch the video, Here it is in script. Thanks to my friend Wesa for showing me this video.
Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.
All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.
And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.
I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.
And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft,"or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.
However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.
Five years later this space is still empty.
Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.
Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.
Five years later this country's wound is still open.
Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.
Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.
It is beyond shameful.
At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."
Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.
Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.
Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.
Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.
And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.
And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.
The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.
Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.
Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.
Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.
History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.
Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.
The President -- and those around him -- did that.
They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."
They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.
The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."
The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."
Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.
Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.
Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.
Yet what is happening this very night?
A mini-series, created, influenced -- possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.
The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.
How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?
Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.
So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.
This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.
And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."
In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."
And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.
"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."
When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American...When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:
This is my friend Carissa. She is a friend of mine whom I've known since high school. This was a conversation we had over yahoo recently, that literally made me laugh so hard I cried. and I am still laughing. Thought I would share her story with you, to make your drunken nights look a little less... traumatic.
She is talking about the last night she had with her boyfriend Chris. He was leaving to go somewhere else... So begins their night together...
[This] was last Thursday night. it was our last full evening together since i had to work fri and sat, and he left Sunday So we went to PF Changs and had a great meal. Then we went up to Voodoo Lounge, up on top of the Rio. You can see how fucking huge that drink is in front of us. Well, long story short: we ended up sharing 4 of those. They are made with 4 kinds of rum, so we each probably had like more than a bottle of rum that night. We were having such a blast though, we met these other British people and were talking to them, it was so great. I knew I was getting drunk, but felt fine. Then, all of a sudden it hit me out of nowhere. I was walking to the bathroom to pee and I started to throw up.... [Another lady I was with] was also going there, so she helped me in there ,and I puked in the sink just a little bit. Then a security guy told me I had to leave, so I went down in the elevators and told the lady to tell Chris what happened, so he could come find me. He took a different set of elevators and couldn't find me for like 45 minutes, I was SO freaked out and upset! Finally he found me and I was bawling. So, he helped me out (by this time I felt it full force and could hardly walk) and we got a cab home. Part way home, RIGHT in the middle of The Strip [yah it was right at the intersection of the Strip and Tropicana, between MGM Grand, Excalibur, and New York New York. Or as we should now call it: New Hork New Hork], I totally puked out the cab window. I had to crawl into Chris' lap and I upchucked all over the Strip and all over the guy's cab. I was SO embarrassed.
to which I replied... "Salad Shooter!" to which she replied... "god I forgot how RED that puke was!" Doesn't that just make you feel bad for the Chris bloke? Just kidding. So now, all my Las Vegas Readers, you know who the mystery chunderspewer was at the intersection of Spew Hork {that's my own} New Hork, MGM Groooouughhhh, and excalibluuuuurrrrrhhhh was. Hope it's rained since then.
"bought the new Fellowship DVD. I highly recommend it both to collectors, and others. Others being people who kinda enjoyed the movie, but don't want all of the extra's. Like commentaries, outtakes, supreme audio, but might someday want to watch the extended version. This is perfect for them (you). But the new documentary is REALLY good. And that's not just cause I'm obsessed, it really is good. No Narrator, it's just filming behind the scenes. It's really great and informative. I look forward to the other 2 movies, which I will get next friday."
And i'm stoked! So here is my nerdom stokage: Full Metal and Inuyasha are now showing every night again on Adult Swim! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Say what you want about this guy, but I like him. I actually respect the man. And you'll say, oh he's gay. Oh he's such a wanker because this or that... But whatever you say, you cannot with a straight face admit that Richard Simmons has not brought health and happiness into millions of lives. And you cannot say that he hasn't fought for what he's got. And you cannot say that he doesn't do it with the most enthusiasm of anyone you've seen. Fuck yeah. So what if he's flamboyant? So fucking what? He helps people lose weight and feel good about themselves! I wish I felt good about myself! And we've all had that extra 5 lbs or 10 lbs or 50 lbs and it sucks! So who wouldn't want some help? What's more, he never lets anyone get him down, or talk him down, and he probably knows he's the butt of a million jokes, but he doesn't care he just keeps on truckin. He has a great sense of humor and doesn't take himself seriously. So fuck all y'all who think he's a wanker. I really respect him. And when I saw this I laughed my ass off because he doesn't take himself too seriously. And I love it!! And this video is fucking AWESOME!
And it's 5:42 AM and I realized that I just wrote a blog about how awesome Richard Simmons is. Will I regret it? Doubtful, but we'll see.
People tell me ALL THE FREAKIN TIME, "You look like that girl in American Pie. You know the one. 'This one time? At band camp?' Ha ha ha ha. That's so damn funny. Did you ever go to band camp? Huh did you? Hhehehe. That would be funny if you did! Heh, say it for me, say it, 'this one time? at band camp?' [this is where i stare blankly at them] Aw you're no fun. That's fuckin crazy though cuz you SOUND like her too. You do! You should be like, a look alike or something. heheheh, then you could go around saying... [this is where they try and coax me into saying "this one time at band camp" by nodding their head encouragingly, but I don't.] Aw damn, but you do look like her though. Ok, well have a nice day and thank you for shopping at target."
o evacuated (her siding and the house on the other side's siding were melted) and was screaming in her cell phone out of sheer panic, but was okay. A little soaked from the rain, but okay. So here's the story:
was a total loss. The only thing they managed to save was a set of golf clubs and a picture of a palmetto tree. You can see the ladder truck shooting the water in through the ceiling into the house. 
Last thing: It is official ladies and gentlemen. Steve and I are now dating. After a year of friendship, he finally decided to commit to a relationship with me. I'm really happy, but I hope we can make it work. 
