It’s been nearly 6 months since my last post! So long in fact, that I contemplated trashing this blog all together and starting over again. But then I read through the last three years of blog posts (I started this blog back in January of 2008) and realized there is some great stuff on here and I owe it myself and my short list of readers to get back to bloggin’! While reading through old posts, I was able to take a trip down memory lane and relive some really life changing milestones over the past few years. Meeting my boyfriend, changing jobs, adjusting to living in NYC, and missing old friends have all been documented, and after re-reading years later, I was brought back to specific places and moments with vivid clarity.
Lately I’ve really started to feel like a “grown-up”…I guess at 29, it’s about time!
- Being okay with spending a Friday night in (or actually preferring to do so!)
- Thinking about a financial plan for the future, ie. saving to buy a house, get married (gasp!), putting money away for retirement (whoa…)
- Actually being able to picture myself settled down in a real house with a kitchen table and welcome mat and ideally even a backyard (all those things you don’t get as a renter/nomad! Since college I think I’ve lived in approximately 9 different apartments..I may be ready for a permanant address…)
- Being in a book club (personally, I don’t think this makes me old but some of my co-workers disagree!)
Following in the footsteps of my dad (the original zog blogger) read on for about as close to sports writing as I can get…
Out of all the teams that were the topic of MANY discussions between the men of my house growing up, the Yankees were always the most talked about. I knew from an early age that the Yankees were sacred to my dad and my bro and of course, I became a fan by default. I think the first game I ever went to was when I was invited to tag along on one of my brother’s traditional birthday outings to Yankee Stadium. I don’t remember much about the game, but I remember feeling a part of something magical…oh yeah and lots of traffic getting out of the Bronx!
When I was in high school and the Yankees won the first World Series of my lifetime, I begged my parents to let me ditch school and head into the city for the ticker-tape parade. After being denied, I did what any other disobedient 16 year old would do–I went anyway. I don’t regret it either, my fondest memory of that day was climbing up on top of a bus stop to gain a better view of the players. To this day, I swear that Jeter winked at me! (Editor’s note: I got caught, and I think grounded, but I’d like to think dad was secretly proud that I was at least ditching school for a sports related event).
When I headed up to the great state of RI for college, I quickly learned just how serious the Yankees/Red Sox rivalry was. Once I was deemed a “Yankee fan” I was quickly grouped in with the other Long Island and Jersey transplants and became part of the small but faithful group that bravely cheered against the Sox. During one Yankees/Sox series a bunch of friends and I crafted homemade “Yankees/I love NY” wife beaters and proudly showcased them at the local campus bar (thankfully it was actually owned by a native New Yorker who was a huge Yankee fan…I think our photo may still hang on the wall…)
So getting back to the point, although I was never the biggest sports fan, despite being raised by a sports writer/sports fanatic and growing up with a brother that watches ESPN religiously, I always had a soft spot for the Yankees. Baseball was a sport I could actually follow and understand and root for, and baseball games were a great time (beer, hot dogs and sunshine). Shamefully I will admit that I have been to more than one Red Sox game and was even photographed wearing a Sox hat once, but I have always felt proud to be a New Yorker and root for the Yankees, a team whose history and tradition is so rich.
Last night, watching the last game at a stadium that I’ve heard about my whole life, I definitely felt more than a touch of sentiment and nostalgia. I’ve always been a sucker for history, and seeing all the past legends back where it all started struck a cord with me. I watched the whole game, right through to Jeter’s heartfelt speech to the fans. I cried–I’ll admit it, I cried at a sporting event and I think I like baseball just a little more now. Too bad the Yanks are out of it, but I am looking forward to next year, to becoming a better fan and to a new place for history to be made.
So as a native New Yorker I felt compelled to at least write something on this very somber day…
When I woke up this morning to Good Day NY, I was instantly reminded of the date and was brought back to that morning seven years ago like it was yesterday. I saw on the news that there was a big ceremony in Pt. Lookout not far from where I live. I could literally feel the heaviness in the air and tried to psych myself up for my busy day…
Of course hearing Greg Kelly ask every guest what they were doing on that day made me immediately recall in vivid detail what I was doing…which was watching the news in my towel at the Sigma Kappa sorority house in Kingston, RI. I missed my 9:30 class (for once it was for a legitimate reason!) and glued myself to the TV for most of the day. I remember frantically calling my family and not being able to get a hold of my brother, who was living in the city and working near the towers, for hours. Thankfully, I didn’t lose anyone close to me, but nevertheless I remain forever affected by that day…
A defining moment for me came later that night. I was sitting on the porch of our house with a bunch of girls just talking things over when literally hundreds of students, many with candles, came walking by humming a spiritual tune. Without a word exchanged, we all got up and just started walking with them. We didn’t know where we were going, and I don’t think it mattered. We finally ended up at the chapel at the top of our campus which was literally bursting at the seems with people. I couldn’t tell you what was said at the service that day, but I could probably recreate the scene with a sketch artist down to a T. I remember exactly what I was wearing (an old volleyball camp T-shirt and black gym shorts), exactly how hot it was (HOT), and everyone that was sitting around me. I remember singing along to Amazing Grace and crying from the shock and sadness but at the same time feeling overcome with emotions such as pride, thankfulness and many other things.
The next day, September 12th, is one of my closest friend’s birthday. Seven years ago I spent it with her, a few other friends and a bunch of old sailors at a dive bar in Narragansett, RI. We had cancelled our plans to celebrate that night in light of the tragedy that had just taken place, but after sitting around our house for hours being sad, we decided to get out of the house. We ended up at a neighborhood bar that felt so safe that night. It was dark and quiet and everyone was just sort of sitting there, staring into their drinks and not saying much. Somehow between the jukebox, the cheap beers and the dusty overhead lights, a conversation that I will always remember took place about life, love and tragedy. That night, Four young and naive sorority girls had something in common with a bunch of aged, worldly seaman. I will always remember that night just as vividly as I remember the day before. It will always remind me how tragedy brings people together, as cliche as it sounds.
Tonight I was watching the Rachel Maddow show on MSNBC and was hoping to be truly inspired by one of the presidential candidates’ words. Maybe I was just expecting too much, but I wasn’t moved. I know they were trying to put partisan issues aside for one day, but it didn’t seem that way to me. I hope I feel differently tomorrow when the fierce race to the White House continues without the sensitive issues this day has raised.
Let’s let Lee Greenwood sign this one off with the tune of “I’m Proud to be an American”…oh yeah, and happy birthday Jenny Lee!
Last weekend I went to Boston to catch up with some old college friends. We were quite the crazy bunch back in the day (OK I’m not that old, it was like the early 00’s) but like most circles of friends we have all moved around and grown apart–at least by distance.
The crew that got together now reside in Arizona, parts of Boston, and NY. Besides the slightly altered ancients (my NY one has apparently gotten worse, while one former Masshole who now lives in AZ seemed to have acquired a slight western drawl) the moment we got together things were right back to the way they used to be. I think the truest friendships can be measured by the ease in which you can get back into them, no matter how much time has gone by. One friend now has a child and recently bought a house. Another, who was unexpectedly at the same Red Sox game as us (editor’s note: I didn’t root for them!) has become a Nurse at a prestigious Woman’s hospital. When we were roommates about 5 years ago, she happily waited tables at the local sports bar and laughed when customers asked her, “what do you plan to do with your life?”
We spent the weekend enjoying some cocktails and reminiscing about the past. I looked around at one point and thought about the different paths that we all took, and where I thought we’d all be 5 years ago. Sometimes it’s funny how things work out. I think we all turned out pretty good and are living the dreams that we made for ourselves…more or less! When the weekend drew to a close I was sad to say my goodbyes, knowing that it may be a while before we are all together again, but I took comfort in the fact that time and distance has had little effect on our friendships.