I'm still livid. But after I saw the front page of the NY Times print edition, I'm willing to consider that maybe the President himself didn't know about yesterday's debacle (b/c, in my mind, the NY Times covers for the President). And while I'll never be down with the administration (so to speak) I will respect the President if he does the right thing. I'm not sure what the right thing is, but it definitely involves personal accountability, making sure people with decision making power are qualified to make those decisions and not sweeping this under the rug. It wasn't just a photo op or a bit of poor planning. It was a really big deal.
I guess we'll just have to see but wanted to update to clarify that while I'm livid I remain an intelligent rational person.
If I didn't, I'd be no better than the brain washed masses (and the fact that I can't resist these digs, means that I'm getting back to normal);)
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
And then they told us to say "cheese" and smile ...
It started off good. At least for a Monday. I swam before work and made it in before my office mate. Both good accomplishments. Especially for a Monday.
Despite the fact that my corner office on the 37th floor has a view of the Statue of Liberty we keep the blinds closed to keep the glare off our computer monitors and to manage the temperature in the warm weather. I had finished my breakfast and was diving into the week’s first project when I heard what I assumed to be a cruise liner honk its horn. Loudly. I figured a boat cut it off and decided that when I finished my thought I would open the blinds to investigate. It’s fun to watch the water traffic interact.
Before I could finish my thought our IR guy came storming through my section of the office yelling “I’m getting the FUCK out of this office.” And I thought, “wow, his Monday is NOT off to a good start.” And then he re-phrased, “EVERYONE get the fuck out of the building.” One of the partners was running close behind him yelling “Everyone out, we’re evacuating now. GO!”
And so we did.
A coworker behind me yelled “Get in the elevator NOW!” And so I did. Although, I wondered at the time whether it was a bad choice. It could have been, but it wasn’t. Thankfully. As we piled into the elevator one of my co-workers said (or so I thought) “… was with a bomb and then he came back with another bomb.” And for second I thought a disgruntled investor or former employee had come to our offices claiming to have a bomb. It seemed a bit silly and farfetched but would maybe explain why the IR guy was freaking out initially.
7 floors and an eternity later, the elevator opened and a hysterical woman got on. I thought she was going to faint, or hyperventilate or puke or some combination of the 3. And then I realized. It wasn’t a bomb. It was a bomber. Trailing a plane flying erratically and dangerously close to our buildings. And the poor scared woman thought she was living through hell for a second time.
30 long floors later the doors opened and we got out and ran. As fast as we could.
I saw the plane and the jets come by for another pass. The noise was deafening. I called my mother to let her know that for now I was ok but to call my father and sister and the city and tell her we were under attack. Because if the plane had mechanical difficulties, I’d like to think they wouldn’t scramble jets to shoot it down, right?
We knew that we were not in our evacuation spot, but the evacuation spot was in the direction of the plane and it didn’t seem to make sense. Of course we also knew that we were backed up against the river so if the plane crashed and the monster cloud of dust came our options of where to run were limited. I figured in a pinch I could swim, but I knew the water was cold. And murky. And rough. I wondered if I should take my shoes off. I wondered how far west the plane would get. I wondered if they would shoot it down before it came back.
And then. Nothing. No news was being reported anywhere. It was as if it hadn’t happened. We met up with coworkers who had walked down the 37 flights. We were told it wasn’t an emergency. It was NEVER AN EMERGENCY. We could go back to work and call our local representatives or our President (THE President) if we had questions. And finally we learned that it was just a photo opportunity for the administration. Because the administration and its President aren’t already full of themselves. Because they don’t already have enough bull shit propaganda to continue to brain wash the masses.
Later, there was some blame placing and lame apologies. Excuses of ignorance. And it seemed like we were just so supposed to say cheese and smile for the camera. But I can’t. Because I’m livid. To put it mildly. There are no good excuses. No apologies will make it better. Even with the proper publicity, no one with half a brain would think that this was a good idea to do in an area with so many people who remember too much about the last time the planes flew by. It is inexcusable. And miles below the virtually non-existent expectations that I had for the next 4-8 years.
So in addition to livid, I’m terrified. And unlike the masses who buy into the propaganda and treat our President like the second coming oblivious to the fact that he is not qualified preside over a country in the best of times, much less in the worst of times, I’m not going to say cheese and smile.
Despite the fact that my corner office on the 37th floor has a view of the Statue of Liberty we keep the blinds closed to keep the glare off our computer monitors and to manage the temperature in the warm weather. I had finished my breakfast and was diving into the week’s first project when I heard what I assumed to be a cruise liner honk its horn. Loudly. I figured a boat cut it off and decided that when I finished my thought I would open the blinds to investigate. It’s fun to watch the water traffic interact.
Before I could finish my thought our IR guy came storming through my section of the office yelling “I’m getting the FUCK out of this office.” And I thought, “wow, his Monday is NOT off to a good start.” And then he re-phrased, “EVERYONE get the fuck out of the building.” One of the partners was running close behind him yelling “Everyone out, we’re evacuating now. GO!”
And so we did.
A coworker behind me yelled “Get in the elevator NOW!” And so I did. Although, I wondered at the time whether it was a bad choice. It could have been, but it wasn’t. Thankfully. As we piled into the elevator one of my co-workers said (or so I thought) “… was with a bomb and then he came back with another bomb.” And for second I thought a disgruntled investor or former employee had come to our offices claiming to have a bomb. It seemed a bit silly and farfetched but would maybe explain why the IR guy was freaking out initially.
7 floors and an eternity later, the elevator opened and a hysterical woman got on. I thought she was going to faint, or hyperventilate or puke or some combination of the 3. And then I realized. It wasn’t a bomb. It was a bomber. Trailing a plane flying erratically and dangerously close to our buildings. And the poor scared woman thought she was living through hell for a second time.
30 long floors later the doors opened and we got out and ran. As fast as we could.
I saw the plane and the jets come by for another pass. The noise was deafening. I called my mother to let her know that for now I was ok but to call my father and sister and the city and tell her we were under attack. Because if the plane had mechanical difficulties, I’d like to think they wouldn’t scramble jets to shoot it down, right?
We knew that we were not in our evacuation spot, but the evacuation spot was in the direction of the plane and it didn’t seem to make sense. Of course we also knew that we were backed up against the river so if the plane crashed and the monster cloud of dust came our options of where to run were limited. I figured in a pinch I could swim, but I knew the water was cold. And murky. And rough. I wondered if I should take my shoes off. I wondered how far west the plane would get. I wondered if they would shoot it down before it came back.
And then. Nothing. No news was being reported anywhere. It was as if it hadn’t happened. We met up with coworkers who had walked down the 37 flights. We were told it wasn’t an emergency. It was NEVER AN EMERGENCY. We could go back to work and call our local representatives or our President (THE President) if we had questions. And finally we learned that it was just a photo opportunity for the administration. Because the administration and its President aren’t already full of themselves. Because they don’t already have enough bull shit propaganda to continue to brain wash the masses.
Later, there was some blame placing and lame apologies. Excuses of ignorance. And it seemed like we were just so supposed to say cheese and smile for the camera. But I can’t. Because I’m livid. To put it mildly. There are no good excuses. No apologies will make it better. Even with the proper publicity, no one with half a brain would think that this was a good idea to do in an area with so many people who remember too much about the last time the planes flew by. It is inexcusable. And miles below the virtually non-existent expectations that I had for the next 4-8 years.
So in addition to livid, I’m terrified. And unlike the masses who buy into the propaganda and treat our President like the second coming oblivious to the fact that he is not qualified preside over a country in the best of times, much less in the worst of times, I’m not going to say cheese and smile.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I aim to please ...
and my fans (fan?) have been clamoring for a blog entry. So, a blog entry they will get. Except I don't have that much interesting to say.
I could talk about how Friday I met THE CUTEST boy who I kinda want to marry (today, I'm sure I'll be on to a new flavor by next Friday) and I knew that I liked him when I realized I was being really mean to him. Because that is how I show affection - through biting sarcasm. Normal, no?
Or how on Saturday I rode my bike inside for almost a million hours and 20 minutes short of a million hours, there was huge BOOM and I would have dove under the table had I not be connected to my bike - turns out I got a huge gash in the tire and it exploded. BOOM!
Or how tonight, after I got the tire fixed, I was in the elevator in my building with my bike still wearing my work suit and some guy asked if I rode my bike to work (in my suit? with my work bags? um, no. ). He was obviously flustered by my beauty.
Or how after the elevator incident, I realized that Whole Foods charged me $.99 for the ridiculously expensive steak I bought (b/c I was soooo tired today and blame it on low iron) that was .99 lbs. I feel kind of bad about that, but I'm not about to go back to the store.
So yeah, those are the things I could tell you, but they're all kind of boring. Thus, the silence. But I have a few monster training weeks and then the summer coming up and those things always yield good stories so I'm sure I'll be back soon with more!
Monday, April 06, 2009
69 Seconds
I ran a four mile race on Sunday and beat my (5 year old) previous best time by 69 seconds. In addition, I negative split the run and 3 of the 4 miles were sub 9 minutes per mile (which for me is smoking).
I was pleased. To say the least.
And then, after a nap, I celebrated and found myself having some post brunch drinks in a bar where 3 of the four boys I've flirted with in the past year were also enjoying post brunch drinks. And it was interesting. A fun end to a fun weekend.
In other news, my first half ironman is 2 months from tomorrow. Talk about interesting ...
I was pleased. To say the least.
And then, after a nap, I celebrated and found myself having some post brunch drinks in a bar where 3 of the four boys I've flirted with in the past year were also enjoying post brunch drinks. And it was interesting. A fun end to a fun weekend.
In other news, my first half ironman is 2 months from tomorrow. Talk about interesting ...
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