Bad Day

Setember 11

I'd planned on getting up this morning and writing a weekend re-cap, but of course I ended up on the couch watching the news about all this terrorist shit. I guess I don't really have much to say about that... I feel much like everyone else-- bewildered, troubled, disturbed. A bad day. Meg is fortunately in upper Manhattan, so she was fine, and sent me e-mail letting me know that. Work today was weird-- periodically my boss would turn on the television, so I kept pretty well informed of developments, such as they were. We deal with a lot of publishers, of course, and many of them have offices in the near vicinity of the world trade center... all day we were getting e-mail from people, telling us they were okay, that they were watching the flames, that they'd been there when the buildings fell.

This is some sick fucking shit. History will not smile upon the perpetrators, whatever they might think of their righteousness.

So, since I'm a little banged-up mental-space-wise, I offer only the scarcest outline of my weekend:

Saturday Heather and I had an all-day-date. We breakfasted at Mama's, then went into the City, wandering in the Japanese Tea Garden. We sat on a bench and read to one another from Jane Yolen's collection Sister Emily's Lightship. Then we had green tea and talked... we went to the Mechanical Museum, and to the ruins of the Sutro baths, and contemplated dinner at the Cliff House, but decided against it. The Cliff House just doesn't have much style-- not like the 1st and 2nd Cliff Houses did. We had dinner in Albany, at a great little Chinese place with an abundance of fake meat (I ate the real thing, but Heather took advantage of the very convincing faux chicken). We came home, made love, enjoyed the evening...

Sunday we breakfasted with Susan, then had coffee with her and Marissa and Mark. Susan told us stories of her brushes with fame; we bickered pleasantly all among ourselves about the virtues and drawbacks of alternate histories and historical fantasies.

It was a good weekend. Truly good. Yesterday I read all my poetry slush, and I got an acceptance from Neverworlds for my story "Hatchling," which was nice.

This morning wasn't so nice. It's not like it really affects me that much personally, but I am not without empathy... and besides, it's somewhat jarring, to be so forcibly reminded of the evil and atrocity at large in the world.

And worst yet, I know that the terrorists got exactly what they wanted. Because I'm shaken, and scared. I really hate giving those monsters that satisfaction.