Where were you. . .

Today is the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.  I remember as a teenager my mom telling me that there are events in everyone's life when you never forget where you were when you heard the news.  A famous example for her generation was the death of President Kennedy; my grandparents' the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  For me there are a few that stand out.  The explosion of the space shuttle Challenger: I was in kindergarten sitting on a carpet in front of a t.v. that had been rolled in on a cart.  Obviously I didn't understand the full effect of what I was seeing but I did understand the impact it had on those around me.  My teacher at the time became almost hysterical and other staff had to come in and take care of our class.  Only later did I learn that my teacher had made it a considerable way through the selection process to be the teacher on this flight.  Thank God for unanswered prayers.  Oklahoma City Bombing: I was in high school and remember standing in the hallway at my locker between classes.  I don't know who it was but someone came up to me and asked if I had heard about the building that had been blown up in OK.  Maybe this event is so burned into my memory since my family had already planned a trip out west that included a stop in Ok. City.  A few months latter I was walking down a street where every window was blown out and boarded up for blocks.  I remember that the site was surrounded by chain link fence that had been wrapped in blue tarps because they were still pulling bodies out of the rubble. While we were there a child's body was recovered. 9/11: My last semester in college, it was a Tuesday, I didn't have classes on Tuesdays.  Normally I would have been asleep but I had a hair appointment that morning and had gotten up to take a shower before I went.  I came out from the shower in a bathrobe and my hair in a towel and turned on CNN headline news, a habit that I had form for some reason during that time in my life.  It was after the first plane had hit and just before the second one.  I remember watching but hardly realizing what was going on.  I knew it was real but it was one of the rare times that something felt truly surreal.  As I watched the second building was hit.  I walked across the hall to my roommate Laura's room and begin knocking on the door.  I knew she had been up into the early morning hours but I was sure that she would forgive me for waking her up.  We sat on my bed for what seemed like hours watching the news coverage.  After 15 minutes or so we both got up and begin making phone calls, for some reason it just felt like the thing to do.  Less than a month earlier I had been vacationing in Manhattan with my friend Michelle.  We had shopped in the mall under the World Trade Center and I had stood at the base of the buildings and took pictures.  While I was there I had purchased a photograph of the twin towers at night.  I remember a woman that sat in the subway area and begged for money and wondering if she was there that morning, but where else would she have been.  I actually had friends calling me to make sure I wasn't in NY at the time.  Many people remembered that I was going to be vacationing there but couldn't remember when it was.  Life has changed dramatically since that time but are we any safer or more united since then?  I don't think so.

Observations from under the bed

I've always loved Robert Fulghum.  Years ago I read Uh-Oh: Some Observations from both sides of the refrigerator door.  Before that I time I had never thought about the idea of "observations" in life.  We see things, we learn things, we think about things, but observing things was always reserved for the science lab.  Little did I know at the time but I would later make a degree and career out of observing people.  However, I digress.  This blog is about observing my life and the things that pass through it.  From under the bed: now that's a good one.  When I got my first big girl bed as a child, I inherited my grandfather's bed from his childhood.  To a toddler this thing was stories off of the ground.  But the flip-side was that I could easily slide under the bed.  Whenever I wanted to be left alone I would crawl under the bed.  This often came with a book or toys and at least one stuffed animal was requisite.  This was my castle, my sanctuary.  Grown-ups may look for me, but they could never fit under the bed.  It was my chance to see without being seen.  Hence the name for my blog: Observations From Under The Bed.  This is my chance to see, observe and reflect without having those same constraints placed on me.  My chance to say what I think, feel what I feel, see what I see, without the need for censure or the fear of judgement.  If someone unknown finds this then I hope they love it for it's honesty but if they leave there will be no hard feelings.  If someone known finds this then they came looking for me and I hope they are pleasantly surprised.  However, I see it like this: It's like walking in on someone getting out of the shower.  I hope you like what you see, but if you don't, just keep it to yourself.  Remember, I didn't invite you, you let yourself in.

I have a migraine

I have a migraine.  In a nutshell, that's how this blogging venture has begun.  Now the lengthy version is that I have been having cluster headaches again for several weeks and the cause is all too obvious: stress.  Too much in my head and on my shoulders.  So, while lying in my dark, silent bedroom this evening waiting for the world to stop swaying I decided that it was time to embark on a much pondered adventure.  So here I am.  Someone who never had a diary, no patience to write a book and way too much to continue holding it all inside.  My stress is killing me; quite literately says the good doctor.  Not sure if this project will turn into a lasting therapy or just a passing fancy.  Either way, it is an attempt at restoring sanity.  Pass or fail, I mark it off my list.