Survival of the fittest

Well, my mother has come and gone and miraculously, we both survived. In fact, I think I might have actually enjoyed her visit. To her credit she behaved quite properly and to my own credit I didn't once revert back to three year old status by throwing a giant foot stomping temper tantrum over some guilt invoking comment that she made. We just had a nice, calm week together, and wile I wouldn't call it actual bonding (my mother and I will never be friends) I will say that I enjoyed having her around.
I've always been jealous of my two step-sisters and the relationship and interaction they have with my step-mom. They get together and they're best girlfriends, talking, laughing, playing... The mother-daughter bond is still there, but it goes so much farther. They truly enjoy each other and look to each other for everything. I've never had that with my own mother and unfortunately I've never really been let in to their tight bond either, I'm still the 'red-headed step child' no matter how much they say otherwise. That's the only thing about this recent mom visit that makes me sad.
I kind of thought that she would come up here, Michael would leave and she would look at me and say, "Let's have a slumber party! We'll get a bottle of wine and just talk and talk and talk..." No, she sat on the couch at night and read her book. She did talk to me, but not about her own life, no hopes or dreams or men stories, only doom and gloom about who's dying and who's sick and who's too poor to buy meat. And she didn't really want to hear about Michael and I and our lack of baby production or about my school or my dog's little accident. No, the weather was a deep enough topic of conversation.
Oh well, Michael says that's just the way she is, as does my dad. But, I don't know, it still hurts. If I can't have that bond with my own mother then what kind of bond could I ever really have with anyone? What about my own daughter, if I'm ever blessed with one? What will she think of me?

Why won't I ever learn?

My Mother is coming to spend a week with me on Saturday. Notice, I said me, not us. The other half of us is leaving me for a week to attend a conference in Boston. So, it is just me, my mother, and her pomeranian, ZsaZsa.
I am so afraid.
(insert deep breath)
I have taken the week off work so that I can be a proper hostess.
(exhale)
But... I still have class.
"Don't worry honey, I'm bringing a book to read while you leave me to go to class."
(in with the good air)
I have bought tickets to a Broadway Show.
"Rent is fine sweetheart, although I heard The Color Purple is excellent..."
(out with the bad)
I have found a nice selection of girlie restaurants to entice her with.
"We don't have to eat out that much... last time I visited I got indegestion..."
(deep calming breaths)
I bought her a plane ticket with direct flights, no connections...
"6am is awfully early for a flight isn't it? But that's OK, I'm sure I'll be able to nap on the plane, although ZsaZsa might not be able to sleep..."
(yoga... maybe I need to go to yoga...)
I have planned a museum trip, boat ride, a pickle festival, a day of shopping/beauty...
"Honey, please don't run me around the city like you did last time, my back just can't take it, let's just go places you can drive to..."
(oh my god! Drive to!? With my Mother in the car?! Is she out of her freaking mind? In New York City? Hell NO! - deep breath - calm - go to your happy place - ahhhh)
Please, let me get through this week. I really want to live to my 5th wedding anniversary next Friday. And her ticket is non-refundable so it would be a shame if I had to kill her before she could complete her round trip... (I am only kidding, of course.)

9-11

September 11, 2001. 9am. I am finally at home in Knoxville. I was flying, commuting at the time from my crashpad on Waverly St (Washington Sq Park - the Village) to my happy little rental house in Knoxville that I shared with Michael (my then to be husband as of Sept 22.) I was really scared about my upcoming nuptials and a little scatter brained. On Sept 10 I hauled my jetlagged ass to World Trade,did my requisite look up at the towers, bought my Seattle's Best coffee, hopped a ride on the PATH to Newark and caught the jumpseat home to Alanta and on to Knoxville. I never thought this would be my last look.
Michael was on night shift that night (he was a KPD officer at the time) and on Sept 11 I got up when he went to bed. I had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang.
It was my future father-in-law. I listened as he exhaled all the air in his lungs and said, "Erin, sweetie, I am so glad you answered the phone and aren't out flying today."
At the time he was working in Charleston and I assumed a hurricane was about to hit, so I asked him how the weather was in South Carolina.
"Erin, you need to turn on the TV, Haven't you heard what just happened?"
I turned on the TV at the exact moment the second airplane hit. I didn't know what to think or what to do. I couldn't believe what I was watching. It couldn't be real. I just sat down on the floor, I didn't care that my wet towel was now laying in a ball next to me... My whole body just retched against what I was watching. I don't remember hanging up the phone but the next thing I remember is sobbing uncontrollably into Michael's shoulder and trying to explain to him what had happened.
I called my roommates. Thankfully, they were all in Atlanta. I called my parents. They were flying that morning from Idaho Falls to Boise to come back to Tennessee for my wedding. They were trapped in Boise. We called Jay, our best man, who was flying from Jackson Hole to Salt Lake City that morning, he was trapped in Salt Lake. Everything stopped. All of a sudden the fact that the napkins had the wrong monogram just didn't really matter, and the fact that I hadn't lost that 20 lbs just didn't really matter, we didn't even care that our honeymoon to France might be canceled (it wasn't), we had each other and we held each other.
People called who I didn't even realize had my number. All checking on my safety, all concerned for me. Was I OK?
No. I wasn't OK, but I was alive. Why those airplanes? Why wasn't it one of mine? I worked those TransCons all the time. Why was I spared? I shopped at World Trade, that was my train station. Why was I spared? No, I was not OK. What happened to the girl who sold me my coffee? To the man who took my train ticket? Were they OK? Who was checking in on them? I was helpless.
Michael was called back into work, and he went relunctantly, but he called me every 15 minutes to remind me how thankful he was for me and to tell me how grateful he was that I was safe.
To this day I can imagine what that flight crew must have went through and to this day I can't look at lower Manhattan without searching for the towers... I will never attend a memorial service and I will never watch a movie or TV show about that day. It's too close. It's too real. I just can't.
But, this day will always hold a special place for me though, because it made me realize just what was important and what was just not such a big deal. And I will never forget.

Lack of Labor Day

This last weekend can officially be renamed Laborless Day Weekend as Michael and I went out of our way to do as little labor as possible.
Friday: Subway for dinner (still trying to lose 10lbs), bus to the Meadowlands, Jets vs. Eagles (go Karn's HS graduate Chad Pennington! Yeah.)
Saturday: Slept in. Oh no, it's raining, guess we can't do anything today. Boo f'n hoo. 8pm - GO VOLS 35 to number 9 ranked Cal 11 - Did I say GO VOLS? Did I mention that there are actually normal, fun Tennesseans living in NYC who actually gather in a fun hot wing serving sports bar for every game? Again, yeah. GO VOLS! Cupcakes for everyone (screw the 10lbs)
Sunday: Courtside seats at the US Open. Sharipova kicked ass. It was awesome! Saw Beyonce and the Donald, again, double yeah.
Monday: bike ride in Central Park and not much else.
Again, if only every weekend could be so perfect. And even after the hot wings and cupcake and beer... I still managed to lose 2lbs. Triple yeah.