Last night the only sound was the pouring rain, thunder and lightning. Sounds of nature, no matter how loud and crashing, don't bother me a bit.

I was reminded, though of Randy Newman's song "I Think It's Going to Rain Today", and I wasn't the only one, because someone on my RN mailing list sent the lyrics with the same thoughts.

I Think It's Going To Rain Today

Broken windows and empty hallways
A pale dead moon in the sky streaked with gray
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles
With frozen smiles to chase love away
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

Lonely, lonely
Tin can at my feet
Think I'll kick it down the street
That's the way to treat a friend

Bright before me the signs implore me
To help the needy and show them the way
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

I've been finally ready to read and watch things that aren't about the disaster.

Until yesterday, I couldn't read an email or a journal entry that was written before it happened, I couldn't watch any TV but the news, but when I came home I found that something I had TiVoed, several Blackadder episodes, actually turned out to be this wonderful British TV movie called The Student Prince starring this electric guy called Robson Green as a bodyguard accompanying young, slightly dim-witted though very sweet prince to Cambridge where not only does the bodyguard fall in love with literature, but they both fall in love with the same American student.

It was so funny that I just was laughing and laughing watching it. I'd have to pause it to laugh myself out a couple of times, and because I was enjoying it so much, I wanted it to last as long as it could. It felt so good to laugh.

When I'm reading new journals, I find that the best way to catch up the archives is to print them out and read them on the street, walking around. The current ones that I am reading are An Bei and Freud's Fave, two marvelous journals, very light-hearted and funny.

Freud's Fave is written by Gentry, an American expat in Paris, and barring the occasional depressed entry, it's mostly fun stuff about drinking champagne and buying Prada shoes, very Holly Golightly, very carefree. This one is a pain to read my way, because not only are there no back or next links, but it has a big left column and doesn't print out so I have to copy and paste the entries into a Word document before I can carry them around. It takes forever, and she often writes three entries a day, so it's a real bear to do, but very worth it, I'm enjoying it so.

An Bei I discovered just the other day, and she's also terribly funny, a Louisiana girl transplanted to Texas, with a five year old daughter and a cute rock-singing husband, and her entries are just so bright and fun to read and make me laugh outloud.

I'm having the best time being back in time with them, in April and May, in July and August and I am just dreading reading their current entries. I want it all not to have happened to them, I want them to stay happy and bubbly and clever, I don't want to get to the part where they are saying where they were when they heard.

I like pretending that life is like it was last month, last week, last Monday.

At work yesterday, some guy was giving me this huge hard time about a bill we hadn't paid, and I just about crawled through the phone and strangled him. I wanted to yell and scream and say, "I don't know if you'd heard, but I've been busy this week!" then slam the phone down, but instead I just repeated, through gritted teeth, that we'd pay him next time checks were cut.

Then they had a special lunch for our two biggest departments, the Lab and Operations, though Billing snuck in and grabbed some food, because Billing is pushy and sneaky that way, and they were serving it in the conference room that is right by our department, the department that wasn't invited.

And I just bitched and pissed and moaned. I went on and on about how if they weren't inviting us, they could have it in the conference room on the sixth floor, where Operations and half the Lab is anyway, and how not fair it was, and blah and blah and blah, and basically it was so much for the world being different and everyone being nice to everyone. Then, when the room was mostly empty, I went in and got permission to take some food. There was lots left over.

And right after that, I read this, and I was ashamed for going back to being so petty again so soon.

Since looking at the skyline from the van on Thursday, I have seen it several times on the way home, and it really doesn't affect me. Because that's not New York.

It looks so different, that as long as I don't catch sight of the Empire State Building it's easy to think that it's somewhere else, some unfamiliar city that happens to be across the river from me when it never has been before.

I'm not facing facts, I know, but I guess this is something that my mind needs to do for awhile.

We are still talking about The World Trade Centre--Taking it Personally, and people are telling incredible stories.

Today's horoscope:
An important communication from a boss or authority comes your way. Be ready to respond.

One year ago today:
...nineteen years of smoking makes chronic bronchitis the gift that keeps on giving.

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Last Updated Mon 17 September 02:27:09 2001