2nd Star to the Right :: Neverland. I think I want to live there.

Last night, against my better intentions, I sat down to watch A&E’s Flight 93. I didn’t want to watch it. Every time I saw a commercial, I got all up in arms about how it’s too soon, and do we really need a fictional movie based on true events?

But then I ended up watching the program before it, The Man Who Predicted 9/11. It was about the head security guy for Morgan Stanley, Rick Rescorla, and thanks to his careful planning and training, only six out of nearly 2,700 employees that worked on the top floors of the South Tower, died that September morning. He was still inside the building when it collapsed and his body was never found.

In order to distance myself a little, I got up and did the dishes. I put away the clean laundry and made my lunch for the next day.

But I did end up sitting down to watch. I curled up under my blanket and I watched. I watched as the hijackers took control of the airplane; I watched the fear and terror materialize among the passengers as they realized what the hijacking meant.

I got as far as Tom Burnett calling his wife from the air telling her the plane had turned around and was headed towards Washington, theorized to be a second airplane aimed at either the Pentagon or the White House.

And then I couldn’t take any more. I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rest – the continued terror, the heroic action and the ultimate result that put the airplane on the ground in a blaze of fire in rural Pennsylvania. Instead, I watched my favorite red-head lock up the bad guys in the Miami heat.

But I tossed and turned all night long. Who do you call when you know your life is about to end? Who do you call one last time to tell them you love them? What do you say to loved ones that will bring them comfort in these unpredictable last moments of your life?

What if you get voicemail?

Laying there at 2:00 this morning, I thought about how many phone calls I’d want to make and how hard those calls would be. What do you say to the people you love knowing that the last few moments of your life are going torturous and fiery? Do you tell them not worry despite all the thoughts running through your own head at a million miles per hour? Or do you try to share some of the burden that has suddenly been thrust upon you?

I don’t know the answers to these questions and I don’t really want to know them either. I can only hope that I would be able to muster the courage to speak and have the ability to find the right words so that we’d both, in small way, be comforted in knowing that love can and does transcend space and time.

To my family: thank you for loving me, wholly and unconditionally.

9:18 PM | allison | # |

Yesterday I went to the dentist for the first time in three years. Don’t judge me. I feel bad enough already. I don’t even know why I waited so long. I always liked the dentist because I love running my tongue over my teeth after they’ve been polished. So smooth!

The overall visit was good – I had some tarter build up (duh, it’s been three years!) and also found out I am the proud owner of a supernumerary tooth. A supernumerary tooth is basically a third tooth. Most folks have baby teeth, which they lose when the adult teeth come in.

Since it’s not causing any breathing or swallowing problems, and hasn’t “erupted,” the dentist isn’t going to do anything about it. The supernumerary tooth is just going to hang out and be cool.

I’m like a fucking shark, man.

Except I only have one extra instead of a whole set. So maybe not exactly like a shark.

But close.

8:31 PM | allison | # |

I’ve spent the last few hours scouring online postings for jobs and a new place to live because I’m going to quit my job.

Friday, I reached my breaking point and some time on Saturday, I’m not really sure when, I decided to leave. It won’t be right away – I’ve got to get myself in order financially. But my lease ends in March and I think my tenure at [Company Name Omitted] will as well.

I feel better than I have in a long, long time. The weight has been lifted and I can see the end. And it feels good. It feels really, really good.

I’m scared, sure. But the scary will be so much easier to deal with when I’m happy again.

8:34 PM | allison | # |

space heater, originally uploaded by allison.in.neverland.

R.I.P. Good buddy. You'll be missed.

10:49 AM | allison | # |

Yesterday I attended an information session about a travel course. It’s a class being offered through DePaul’s School of New Learning. A close friend is a student there and is planning on taking the class is in the spring. It’s called Cathedrals of England: A Pilgrimage. Stops on the trip include Westminster Abbey, Canterbury Cathedral, Winchester Cathedral, Stonehenge, and Coventry Cathedral among others. The course description reads, “the focus of the experience will be to engage a sense of space as a place for spiritual awakening and renewal.”

More than anything, it seems to be a real pilgrimage and all the students at the information session seemed to be there for different reasons: interest in travel, architecture, religion and spirituality. The appeal for me is all of those.

I was fortunate enough to travel abroad on quite a regular basis when I was younger. But it has been nearly ten years since I left the country and the draw visiting a far of place has gotten stronger. The idea of making a pilgrimage is also intriguing. It would be a modern pilgrimage of course, with the comforts of a bus taking us from one place to another, a guide that knows the way and a place to sleep every night.

But when I traveled abroad and saw those cathedrals before, I was at a much different place than I am now, both in mind and spirit. I was angry and frustrated; I had been baptized Catholic and made my first communion, confirmed in and a member of the Methodist Church and attended a private Catholic high school. I haven’t set foot in any church since my dad’s parents died my junior year college. Maybe I was just confused. Whatever the reason, I feel like I’m in a better place now to understand and really feel the greatness of these historic and spiritual destinations.

Or maybe I’m placing too much importance on what I think I’m supposed to feel at these places. After all, I haven’t truly believed in or prayed to any kind of god since high school.

I’m also worried about the financial aspect of it – as a non-student, I have to pay an administrative fee as well as the cost of the trip. It’s nearly $2,800. That’s less than the students pay, with the cost of the tuition tacked on to the trip as well. But I’d also have to pay for and read the texts, and take time off from work too. The cost isn’t that bad considering what it covers (round-trip airfare, accommodations, morning meals, transportation, and admittance to all sites), but my car is eight years old and needs a new starter, and I’m not sure how easy it would be to get a loan to open the bar with the trip and potentially a new-to-me car debt to my name. I’ve also got a potential move at the end of my lease in March, hopefully a new job and a trip to Boston with my brother planned for late spring. That’s a lot going on in a relatively short time frame. It was that kind of stress that put me in therapy to begin with.

I want to travel again. I do. I miss the awkwardness of being a stranger in an unknown place. I miss the eagerness to learn and willingness to try new things that being in a new place creates.

But maybe I’m not ready to take the plunge yet. Or maybe I’m just scared.

5:10 PM | allison | # |

“When the towers fell, that was the clearest example of what is unjust and unfair in the world and I was powerless to do anything about it.”

Gary Sinise said that. Well, the character he plays on television did. He plays a crime technician on CSI: New York who lost his wife the day two separate airplanes flew into the two towers of the World Trade Center.

I remember the first time I heard that premise. I thought the producers were using the tragedy for commercial gain. What happened in New York was still so fresh when CSI: New York debuted; it was easy to empathize and identify with his character. As a nation, we were all still reeling. And he uses that as the driving force for his character to seek real justice in this crazy world that we live in.

But when I just heard him say that, it made me think a little differently. Not about the show using that to make his character more empathetic, but about what I define as unfair and unjust.

I used to think that unfair and unjust meant senseless and meaningless. But it’s not.
Unfair and unjust is often very personal and meaningful to an individual.

Is it because it’s so personal and meaningful that an unfair event or happening often hurts so much? And not just emotionally but physically as well?

My therapist and I talk a lot about why I’m so unhappy working where I do. It’s because I feel I’ve been wronged and treated unduly. It’s my unfair and unjust.

I’ve been a loyal and hard-working employee for just over five years; my reward has been unfinished development plans and counseling for my attitude.

In no way does my situation come close to the tragedy that occurred on that fall day in September.

But it is my own personal heartbreak. And my own personal pain. And it hurts.

9:58 PM | allison | # |

They’re saving the world in the background. It’s loud and scary and the music is very dramatic. Kind of like this past year.

I sat down to write out my resolutions for 2006 and I have the television on for noise. Alien Resurrection is on FX and Ellen Ripley is about to save the world. Again.

I realize I’m a little behind in writing the resolutions, but I’ve been mulling them over in my head since Christmas. And someone told me once that it’s better if you actually write them down; it helps make them more concrete and also gives you something to refer to later in the year. I’m including them as part of my blog to help make myself accountable for them as well.

If I’m not the only one who knows about them, I’ll feel a little guilty if they don’t get accomplished. And hell, a little guilt is good for everyone.

I’ve kept my list fairly short this year. A long list makes me feel like I’m going to fail before I even get started. So here we go.

Finish losing the weight. On January 1, 2002 I weighed 196 pounds. On January 1, 2006, I weighed 110 pounds. I’d like to make it to 103.
Be more bold. I often don’t talk to people or do things I want to do because I’m afraid of rejection or getting hurt. And I’m missing some moments of my life that I don’t want to miss any more.
Write or journal more. I looked back at the archives and the journal next to my bed for the past year. I wrote less in 2005 than I have since I started writing, both in my journal and on my blog. The results of writing more may not end up on the blog, but there will be results.

I’m looking forward to 2006 because of the possibilities it offers. I’m still looking for a new job, a new inspiration and a new direction. I’ll turn 28 in February. My lease ends in March and my brother and I are considering becoming roommates. That could be an adventure in itself. A new-to-me car is also a possibility and part of my be more bold resolution is to open myself up to trust and love others more freely. My brother and I are going to Boston in the spring and I may end up going back to England with a good friend as well. I’m committed to produce Steel Magnolias for my dad in the fall. I’m determined to be better about saving and spending money and would also like to finish writing the business plan for Last Call before the summer starts.

That’s a lot to do in a year’s time and feels a little overwhelming at the moment. I’m going to start with changing a load of laundry and then tackle the dishes in the sink.

Sometimes it’s easier to get the little projects out of the way and then move on to the bigger, more intimidating work.

At least I’m not trying to save the world. I’ll leave that to Ellen Ripley.

3:44 PM | allison | # |

Bellagio at dusk, originally uploaded by allison.in.neverland.

I'm back. Physically anyway. Mentally, I'm still on vacation.

2:23 PM | allison | # |