9/10

I'm making Brownies of Appreciation for all the kind souls who wrote the college lovely letters of recommendation for me. There's no brownie big enough for Mrs. S., owner of The House and thoughtful writer of the nicest professional description I've ever read about myself. For the staff and faculty I badgered on the first day back to work (some for the second time in a year) I know I should come up with something nicer than brownies, but there's really no sufficient gift in the world (or within my cooking ability) to convey my gratitude. (When I told Eugene's Brother I was baking thank-you brownies, he said "I thought they wrote you nice letters." Har har.)

There will be a bell-ringing ceremony and a moment of silence on the field tomorrow, right after recess (so good luck with the SILENCE part). That's the only public 9/11 commemoration I'm participating in. The date used to mean something entirely different to me. It still does, but it used to mean only one thing -- September 11, 2000 I became Eugene's Brother's girlfriend. Last year, we settled for a dinner of "leftovers" at my house and dessert elsewhere. This year, he has class till 7:30 p.m. and we all know I like to be in bed by 8 so I think we'll do something on the weekend instead.

I know I'm more practical than sentimental when it comes to Eugene's Brother, but I don't know why. Generally speaking, I'm freakishly sentimental, and this manifested itself in all of my other relationships (there weren't lots, in case it sounds like there were) but with E's B, I react pragmatically to everything. Don't get me wrong -- I appreciate every gesture he makes, and I try to be thoughtful and occasionally surprising. It's just that anniversaries don't excite me the way, say, talking about business licenses and MBAs do. I think he wouldn't mind if I were more conscious of certain things, but I don't think it really bothers him that I'd rather we do our homework and get decent sleep than eat an overpriced dinner and be tired the next day. Uh, I better go check with him just in case.

Mom just said the brownies smell like baked potatoes. That can't be good.

9/11

The Brownies of Love and Appreciation went out today and were hopefully a bright spot shining through the day's dreariness. (Dreary because of the rain and runaway students.) The bell-ringing ceremony was not what I thought it would be -- there was nothing as melodious as a handbell or anything like that, they rang the school bell intermittently and the kids were confused, as they got yanked from recess early and were made to stand very still and quiet in a light drizzle.

These huge roses were sitting on the office counter when I went up to sign in this morning. And a card that made me smile away the stupid tears I had from listening to all the morning show montages. My gift to him? Arizona iced tea and brownies. We went to the mall for a little while, talked about work, drank soda, and were happy to not be at Kiddiepark. (Yes. We still think that way.)

So again, a low-key Sept. 11 "celebration." Friends have suggested we just call the 10th or 12th our anniversary, which at first I was all against because "that means they've defeated us!" and all that, but now I just think it's dishonest -- not in a huge way, not in a wrong way, but in a pointless way. I'd always feel compelled to add, "But he actually sang to me on the 11th." It just has to do with sharing: The reality is that both events happened on the eleventh of September, and it seems self-absorbed to want to remove ourselves from the date.

Last year, by the time I was out of bed and fully aware of what was happening, the towers had already fallen. I don't remember what I was thinking, I don't remember if I went to work with my mom or by myself. We all knew it was a huge and terrible thing that had happened, but everybody came to work and was calm. I felt more during the weeks and months after than I did the first time I saw the crash footage. I try to keep up with current events and I can't shake this thing Circular, my writing mentor, said the last time we really talked: If I weren't so deeply spiritual, I would despair. The world is truly and greatly damaged. This was at least a year before September 11.

Well, I believe him now, even with the post-9/11 spate of patriotism and genuine resolutions to be better people. Human nature takes over and again we are petty, cruel for the sake of appearances. We throw people away, and we lie, and we cheat. We feel so much schadenfreude. Does this [business as usual] mean they haven't defeated us, or does it just mean we've learned nothing from a world of loss?

... Fortunately, like Circular, I have my own spiritual sense (different from religion, TG) and this stubborn belief that good will prevail just because it should.