Exactly a year has passed since two planes flew into two towers and caused a big fuss. And yet, just like last year, my anguish comes not from mourning or from being afraid, but from the vivid memories of my summer gone by. Like all great summers, it was miserable while it lasted, but heartwarming and wonderful in retrospect. I make a list for my own nostalgic pleasure:
+ sandy hook with buddies and seafood
+ taboo fun
+ unemployment
+ double date at sea girt
+ hba bbq/reunion
+ aerosoles
+ tennis
+ all buddies gone to china
+ two job finds in one week
+ lilo and stitch
+ rutgers
+ WFAN 660
+ lunches at mcintosh/interchurch
+ bday girl in nyc
+ broadway sleepovers
+ belgian beer and twenty-somethings
+ good guys always win
+ first rollercoaster ride ever (not mine)
+ jones beach (twice; with survival)
+ driving drunken korean men home
+ return of the chinamen
+ tutoring mo
+ catfish, mosquitoes, smores, big tent
+ a very big house in Cambridge
+ coconut battered shrimp
+ a small chinaman bearing gifts
+ me?
+ bratwurst, twins, smallville
+ moving in with the new, saying bye to the old
+ nsop, amcafe, staples
+ don't let the balloon make you fall
+ bbq, sports authority, h.21, goodbye.
It's tough to look at such a list with dry eyes, but I guess that's the magic of summer.
