Writing

I write blog entries in the shower.
I write blog entries in the car during the drive between NY and DC.
I write blog entries on the metro.
I write blog entries before nodding of sleep at night.

I write blog entries in my brainblog. At all hours. Except when I'm in front of my computer. Once I sit down to dictate those entries into my online blog, my mind is wiped blank and I lose the thoughts I so eloquently composed in my head. So sad.

How sweet it is

The New York Mets are the National League Eastern Division Champions.

The Baseball Gods had their way with me and every other Mets fan this past weekend-- Philly winning all three games, Mets getting swept by the lowly Pirates-- but we're the better for it. The Mets got to clinch at home, in front of 47,000+ of the best fans in the world. That's the way it ought to be.

But I heed the warnings and I won't be writing about the Mets anymore, until there is actually something else to celebrate. We've waited a long time for this and I'll be damned if it's my writings that screw around with our boys' karma.

Lets go Mets!

There's a first time for everything

So for the first time in my life, I'll be rooting for the Mets to lose one game. Just one. In particular, tomorrow's game against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Why, you ask?

Well, it goes like this: if the Mets win one more game or the Phillies lose one more game, the Mets will be crowned champions of the National League Eastern Division. For those of you who know your baseball, you should know that it's been 18 years since that last happened. Add 2 years to that, and you get 20 years since the Mets won a World Series. So, if they win a game tomorrow (or if the Phillies lose), they will be celebrating like they haven't celebrated in at least 18 years. And their amazing fans will be celebrating along with them.

But what about me? Well, if the Mets win tomorrow (or if the Phillies lose), I will most likely be sitting in Andrew's apartment, helping to entertain 7 other people for Shabbat dinner. And unfortunately, the radio nor the TV will be on. Which means, I won't know until Saturday morning what happened. I won't be able to celebrate like I've never celebrated before (not even the 2000 Subway Series measures up to this). Who knows what crazy wildness would overtake me if I were lucky enough to witness the Mets clinch the NL East crown, really the first time in my life (you think I actually remember 1986 or 1988 that well?). All the pent up energy wasted, if they happen to clinch tomorrow night. Woe is me!

And not just me. Just think about all the other Orthodox Jewish Mets fans out there, who have suffered through Yankee obnoxiousness for the last 10 years, and who have waited so so long for meaningful games in September, and who have counted down, along with me, to this very moment! And to miss that chance to witness the culmination of excitement after 145+ regular season baseball games and help usher the Mets to a postseason as the prohibitive NL favorites! Woe is us!

I should know better and not mess around with the Baseball Gods and the amazing carma that they have bestowed upon my team this year. But am I really asking for too much? I just want to be a part of it, and shed that one tear of happiness. Ectatic joy that one can only feel when their team, the team they've been rooting for since they can remember, comes out on top. And yes, I know that there is still all of October for the Mets to prove themselves, and there's a long way to go, but c'mon. You can't deny this feeling. And you can't deny that we deserve it.

Let's go Mets.

Five Years

Tomorrow will be five years. So much has been said already, and so much will be said, that there really isn't much to say anymore. A part of me wishes that the TV wouldn't be filled with images and videos and tributes to what happened; the overpowering emotion that overtakes is just too much at times. And I was just an innocent bystander.

I'd really rather not relive the experience of that day, that night, that week of helpnessness and despair, and all those dreams. Those nightmares that haunted me, not just for a few months after, but years. And even after finally breaking free of the hold those dreams once had on me, there is still no escape from the feelings that crop up every once in a while, simply because life has so drastically changed, rendering it a permanent part of our lives.

I can imagine that it will be close to impossible to get through tomorrow without taking even slight notice and paying my respects. I can't ignore the newspaper that will be at my doorstep nor neglect the 3rd metro stop during my morning commute. It would probably be selfish of me to do so. So I'm quite sure a tear or two will be shed at some point in the morning, when the country will stop to pay tribute to all those people.

There's another part of me that wishes I could be back home tomorrow, in the city where I was born and raised, where I can glance upon the all-too familiar skyline I took for granted for 22 years. To sit in the place in Queens I saw it last, or even drive over one of the many bridges, right after sunset, and watch once again as the twin beams light the sky.

But, alas, tomorrow I will remember from afar. And as much as I try to escape it, I'll never forget it.

I'm pooped.

What a weekend. What a whirlwind of a weekend. It feels like everything I did on Friday and Saturday really happened over a week ago. That's how long this weekend has been.

It's too late for me to go into details, but let me just share with you the route and stops between Thursday evening and tonight. Let's just say the car logged around 700 miles this weekend. 250 of those miles just within the limits of New York City and a little beyond. Mile markers courtesy of Google Maps, +/- 5 miles.

Thursday night:
1. Mile 0: Alexandria, VA. Pickup from work
2. Mile 233: Staten Island. Sleep over.

Friday:
3. Mile 233: Work from home (seriously), between 7:30am-12pm.
4. Mile 234: Staten Island, NY. Photographer.
5. Mile 280: Pearl River, NY. Check out wedding venue. Waste of time.
6. Mile 307: New Rochelle, NY. Drop off bags. Pick up moms.
7. Mile 310: New Rochelle, NY. Invitations lady on other side of town.
8. Mile 313: New Rochelle, NY. Back home.

Saturday:
9. Day of Rest. Thank God.

Sunday:
10. Mile 330: Flushing, NY. Grandparents.
11. Mile 347: New Rochelle, NY. Back home. Change. Pick up rest of family.
12. Mile 348: New Rochelle, NY. Brunch at bat mitzvah party.
13. Mile 349: New Rochelle, NY. Back home for 2 minutes.
14. Mile 366: Teaneck, NJ. Friends.
15. Mile 377: New York, NY. Dinner with aunt.
16. Mile 395: New Rochelle, NY. Back home for the night.

Monday:
17. Mile 414: New York, NY. Breakfast wedding meeting.
18. Mile 432: New Rochelle, NY. Pick up forgotten AC adapter for work laptop (Oops).
19: Mile 450: New York, NY. Lunch with friends.
20. Mile 495: Somerset, NJ. Wedding venue.
21. Mile 699: Washington, DC. HOME.

I'm pooped.

Gnite.