Well, now it has been 7 years since the Twin Towers fell. Sadly, I didn't even realize this was the anniversary until I received a forward text message. When I saw the message in my inbox, all I could see was the "Fwd:" part of the message. Immediately, I began yelling at the phone, "Who's sending me a stupid forward! I hate these things!" I'm not kidding. I yelled at the phone in annoyance. I could not believe someone owuld be sending a forward at 6:58 AM. Then I opened the message, and the opening words were, "Today is 9-11. Thousands of people lost ones they loved. I love you and don't want to lose you." Then followed the typical, "Send to everyone..." kind of things. Still, I was humbled. I thought of my ability to voice my love for those I care for and their continual presence in my life.

As I said, I believe, in my journal exactly a year ago today, I have changed. The changing process is still continuing in me, as it is in all of you. Right now, something beautiful is occurring in me. Hopefully, I will remain here with God's grace and help.

In my Literary Criticism course at my university (I am an English major, for those who are unaware), my professor was discussing her childhood. The Red Scare, the Cold War, and the "hide beneath the desk in the case of a bombing" message were a part of her reality. We were discussing New Historicism critical theory and how a new historicist would view the various aspects of her youth in regards to literature and society. We managed to discuss the differences between her and us students. Most of us are around 19 years old, with about 3 exceptions. We eventually and inevitably found ourselves at September 11, 2001. Some student said our professors had lived through more and experienced more upheaval and tragedy than we have. She later said that was not necessarily the case. Our upheavals and turmoils are simply different. "September 11 was another stop on the train for me. You guys, just as you were starting out, you were hit with a train." Like she said, we were so young. Our lives were changed are still changed and shaped by that day. I don't know why I am writing this. I think it's just really hard to believe I was just a preteen worried about getting to eight grade alive (I was a 7th grader) when, suddenly, my life was changed. And the nation's life as well. connectedness and all that "jazz," I suppose.


Well, I am off to do homework (lots and lots of homework). God bless, and much love. And to my Houston/Katy friends: Even though I do not live there anymore, I am nervously watchign Ike. Please be safe.