I am...a New Yorker

[Previous entry: "Not Dave Gorman, Are You?"]

Thursday, October 18, 2001
Mournng My People

I’m the One That I Want, Margaret Cho. I never did fnish it, what with all the movng to New York and turnng 30 stuff.

Remember that study, so oft-quoted n the ‘80s that said a woman n her ‘30s was more likely to be killed by a terrorist than get married? I seem to recall they argued about it n When Harry Met Sally.

I’d forgotten all about that study until now. There's a joke n there somewhere, what with me turnng 30 and, withn 2 weeks, my city beng under terrorist attack.

New friends and strugglng with a conflict of issues. I know we all have baggage, but I try to keep mne to carry-on size. I'm not the most patient person n the world, but I'm not about to feel guilty for gettng irked with someone who doesn't listen and thus must ask me the same questions agan and agan. Get a hearng aid!

Toys and Fang’s traditional Halloween goodies.

My red, flannel sheets, so toasty on these crisp, fall nights. The other set I bought a few weeks ago wasn’t nearly as warm or fluffy. Just what I needed with the real cold snap comng. Mmmmmm…all I need now is a cup of cocoa.

I am...Amazed and thankful we had a month of relative peace. I applaud Ana’s rant earlier this week, because she made a lot of the ponts that have been stirrng around n my own gullet.

What keeps comng back to me, however, is how many of my people died because they happened to work n the World Trade Center. By “my people” I refer, of course, to secretaries. I’m not sayng that anyone deserved to die because they were a CEO or a day trader. It’s awful enough, to be sure, that it was a civilian target. I'm just sayng they were livng their lives dong somethng they chose, rather than settlng for what they could fnd. I'm tryng to work my way out of that position, so that I can be more free to select based on my nterests and skills.

When I thnk about the WTC, what I come back to, agan and agan, is people like me, answerng someone else’s phone, worried about someone else’s deadlnes, rushng to make copies for a 9 a.m. meetng, stressed and stretched to their ends and seeng little reward for it. Look who's gettng Anthrax -- assistants to network news anchors. Secretaries ought to get hazard pay these days!

I’m workng on gettng out, I have been for two years, but my resolve and focus have never been stronger.

I don’t doubt I’m the only one who feels this way, but the WTC attack is the knd of thng that naturally makes you thnk about your life n terms of if you’re dong what you are meant to do. It’s been clear what I was put on this earth to do snce I can remember. Even my parents, though they discouraged me every step of the way and told me to pursue somethng either more marketable (law) or practical (military -- because I’m so big on followng orders?) than a life of writng, even still they could not help but know. After I eulogized my father, I'll never forget my mother comng up and the first words out of her mouth were, "I'm not as eloquent as our daughter, but..."

If events like the WTC attacks make us all believers sayng desperate prayers, then mne was, "Please, dear God, I don't want to die a secretary."

[Next entry: "A Traned Killer"]
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