Category Archives: journalism

Post 9/11

For the better part of last week I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the 9/11 footage that was painted all over my TV screen. Unlike a lot of the other tragedies that have struck this country, practically the entire population waited and watched the horror unfold on the morning of September 11, 2001.

I was in 6th grade in 2001, and I had no idea what had happened until my mother picked me up from school and told me that some very bad men had crashed airplanes into to some very important buildings in New York and that a lot of people died.  At that point, I knew what had happened was really bad. I was only 12, but when I saw the footage of the smoking towers and their eventual collapse, it scared me. It broke my heart.

But now, watching the 10th anniversary specials has made the enormity of that tragedy so much more real. I watched people jump from hundreds of feet up in the air. I watched incredible real-time footage of firemen and volunteers searching through the smoking, jagged rubble looking for survivors, but only finding bodies, body parts, and charred remains. Families crying in the streets, talking to reporters while holding flyers with pictures of their missing loved ones.

9/11/01: Never Forget.

We can’t forget. We have it all on film.

We have so much of the attack and the aftermath documented, and it’s had a profound effect on me. I see clips of the debris and the fiery wreckage and I think: How did they know where to start? How did we ever get back to normal? And as much as I can find wrong with this country, the resilience of this country is something that inspires me. It is something that I am proud of.


What was:










What will be:













If you haven’t checked out the 9/11 memorial at ground zero or the plans for the new World Trade Center I highly recommend it. It’s amazing the time and thought that has been put in to honoring the victims at the WTC. You can find it here.

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It’s a car wreck, and I can’t stop watching. My love/hate of Jersey Shore

I used to be too good for the Jersey Shore.

I know! I can’t believe it either, but truthfully, I used to judge everyone else for devoting and hour a week to watch drunk, orange people act drunk and orange on national TV. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere in the middle of season two I got over my “holier than yous” attitude and got curious.

I kind of hate myself for it, but after one episode I was hooked.

I don’t even like “reality” shows, and, really, this is the only one I watch (I swear!). So why do I feel the need to keep up with this alcohol, rage, and bad decision-filled display? I mean, honestly It’s the same story every episode.

This is what usually happened on any given Jerz-day:

Sam and Ron are together, and then there not. And then they are, and then Ron goes off into roid-rage land, and then they’re not again. Mike creeps on some ugly girls and is generally disgusting.  Deena falls down and cries about some poor decision she made last night. Snooki drinks some wine and burps. Vinny and his beard give commentary on the rest of the house, Pauly screams “YEAH BUDDY” thirty times,  and Jenny adjusts her boobs like this:

and remains the only one with a functioning brain.

And really that’s about it…give or take a few swings thrown and/or random girls in random beds throughout the house.

It’s weirdly exciting. Maybe it’s a vicarious thing. Maybe I love analyzing the sickness of Ron and Sam’s on/off non-relationship. Maybe I like to judge the random girls who come back to the house for one night stands (Don’t they know their parents can see this?). Maybe I just enjoy how stupid everyone is while hopped up on Redbull and vodka at 4 in the morning.

Whatever it is, they got me. Jerz-day is like the official start of my weekend. It permission to down shots of whatever is around and then look like a jackass while fist pumping the night away yelling CABS ARE HEEEEREEE. It’s a time to forget about class, work, general rules for living ,and watch pseudo-glamorous people live pseudo-glamorous lives and feel pseudo-glamorous right a long with them.

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DISLIKE: cigarettes

Like many smokers it seems like I’ve bee trying to quit since I started. I was 16, a junior in high school, and convinced that I looked much hotter with a cigarette in my hand blowing smoke out of my nose than I did without. Not to mention, I liked the Camel’s that came in the pink package that had the cute little pink camel on the filter. IT WAS PINK. It was practically asking me to buy it. It also helped that sweet Asaad at the Bardstown Rd. Smoke Shop never carded me or any of my friends. Thanks Asaad  16-year-old cleavage, thanks a lot.

That smoke shop is out of business now- just FYI.

All of my friends smoked then. All of them . It felt like we were getting away with something because we all knew our parents would flip if they found a pack just lying around in our room or in our purse. Eventually some of them wised up and kicked the habit,  and some of them still smoke a pack+ a day, but for me it’s been an on/off thing ever since. It’s like the bad boyfriend you can’t help but go back to time and time again. I hate cigarettes, HATE THEM, but it’s a social thing, it’s something to do. I can go a week without giving in, but then I get a couple of glasses of wine  in me on a Friday night and suddenly I feel a rush of how much I missed them and get this ironic notion that I can’t live without them.

A few reasons why I HATE cigarettes:

1. See those teeth? Is that cute? I had braces for 5 years. FIVE YEARS. Do you know how much money that is? How much time and pain and ibprofen I had to choke down to get this beautiful smile? I’ll be damed if I ruin it.

2. Smoking makes it really hard to breathe. Why does my usual workout kick my ass so much harder on Mondays? Because I’ve been busy sucking on cancer over the weekend just so I have something to do with my hands.

3. This is what I have to look forward too. If I don’t die from the various cancers, emphysema, or heart disease, I get to smoke out of my throat for the rest of my life? Doesn’t that sound like fun? No. It doesn’t. It sounds sad. Just put me down at that point, folks. You have my permission.

So please, if you haven’t started, don’t. If you have and I ask to bum, pretend like it’s your last one. I never take the last one. I’ll leave you with something that always makes me think twice before I light up:

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