FlipSide:Starting September 10, 2001

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A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

Last Updated : Tuesday, September 11, 2001 10:07:24 PM -0500

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Monday, September 10, 2001

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The freaks are getting way too close to home. I was feeling moderately unwell today, a cross between a cold and lack of sleep due to my youngest child's nocturnal activities. Unfortunately, I was unable to leave my office until 3:30. Sigh. So much for being able to catch a nap before I had to go to a Focus Group. (Hey, they were paying me $50 for my opinion on Ground Turkey. Short of puking sick, I was going.) After making a meatloaf for dinner, I headed back onto the freeway to go to my group. As I was passing the strip mall by my daycare, I noticed some flashing police light. Hmmm . . . someone shoplifting at TJ Maxx or a dine and dash at the Old Country Buffet (which would be a neat trick, considering you pay before you eat). A few minutes later, John calls me on my cell phone. It seems some lunatic was wandering TJ Maxx with a gun and the Burnsville Police were stationed outside my daycare to prevent said maniac from getting any nearer to my children. This news was unsettling to say the least. Methinks I need to look at houses farther out in the country. Waaayyyy farther. But, then again, freaks travel.

Speaking of freaks, the primary election for the mayorship of St. Paul (and of Minneapolis) are being held tomorrow. After that, we will be down to only 2 running for mayor in both cities. We were in St. Paul on Sunday, doing the Charlie Browns. John put up a whole page of pictures, of all the CBs we saw. Apparently several of the candidates were downtown doing their politicking. Luckily we didn't run into any of them. We did, however, stop in for lupper at Mickey's Diner. Mickey's is a fixture in St. Paul. It is a dining car, literally, plopped down on 7th street in St. Paul. It is very hard to get seat in this local landmark, but we managed. Any luminary that happens to be in St. Paul for any length of time makes the pilgramage to Mickey's. Arnold Schwarzegger, Roseanne, Tom Arnold, and, course, Jesse Ventura.

My son, unwashed heathen that he is, protested his dessert tonight. This weekend we splurged and purchased a Dianne's cheesecake sampler. Not only is this some of the best cheesecake you can purchase, it comes in several flavors. In the sampler we had mint, vanilla, chocolate tuxedo, and strawberry. We had splurged on this as we were planning to have a nice candle-light dinner after the kids were in bed. Then I remembered that the last time we tried to do that it was after 9:30 when we age and our aging bodies were, well, unhappy, with our eating a heavy meal that late in the evening. It was a feeling that definitely did not lend itself to the more romantic plans for the evening. Anyway, I split a piece of the chocolate tuxedo cheesecake, a delicacy of the gods, between my two children. And my son (I'm sure this comes from his father's side of the family-my side of the family has a finer developed sense of taste) announces that he didn't like the "white part". Shudder. My son dislikes the ambrosia of the gods that is cheesecake?! Even his father likes a well prepared cheesecake. Instead he asks for a cheap ice cream concoction that had been in our freezer for 2 months. I am going to have to work on that boy.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

As the day has progressed and the news from New York and Washington DC has gotten steadily worse, I find bible verses running through my head. The first from the New Testament, the lament of a lost and frightened child, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"

I generally consider my religion to be a private thing, not something to be on display for others. But as I watched the unfolding horror on television at work this morning and saw each tower of the World Trade Center disintegrate before my eyes, I found myself making the sign of the cross over and over again. Completely unselfconsciously, as if I were commending the souls of those trapped and dying to God. I saw my coworkers cry or pray or run to phone relatives that worked for the airlines or the military or just lived or worked in New York. One of my coworkers has a brother who is a pilot for American Airlines. He used to fly one of the ill-fated flights. I heard cries to God and calls for vengeance and even morbid jokes. Everyone dealing with the devastation in their own way.

This afternoon I picked my daughter up from school and struggled to find the words to explain to her that such evil exists. Evil that can reach out and kill thousands people they don't even know in the name of a religion or political cause. How dare they reach out and kill and invoke the name of God?! Her world, and mine, will never be the same. We will never feel quite so safe as we did before this beautiful sunny day was shattered in such an appalling matter.

Tonight, the bible verse going through my head is the same one quoted by President Bush in his address to the country tonight. "Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Today, I believe that valley is a corridor between New York City and Washington DC. I pray to God that valley gets no bigger.

God bless and keep you all and I hope all your family and friends are safe, if not feeling very secure.

Wednesday, September 12, 2001

Thursday, September 13, 2001

Friday, September 14, 2001

Saturday, September 15, 2001

Sunday, September 16, 2001

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not