Personal

It speaks for itself.

Background Information

In 1995, when I first became an EMT, my mother gave me a cross with the Star of Life medallion in the middle of it.  You may have seen glimpses of it in a few videos.  The cross has left my neck exactly once since it was given to me.  I gave it to Pudding after September 11 as a sort of an engagement piece.  Untraditional, I know, but it saw me through that horrible day, and had been blessed by Cardinal O’Connor of the New York Archdiocese back when I was more involved with the church, so it stood to reason that all it was through and the fact that it was given to me by my mother that it had both tremendous sentimental and luck value.  Pudding wore it for about a year before taking it off, and when we split, I took it back.  Since then, it has not left my neck and has seen me through the aftermath of my failed marriage, Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Hurricane Rita in Texas, and just everyday being me.

However I no longer have that cross.  DJ has it… it was placed around his neck for the wake and the closing… and it will be with him forever… hopefully protecting him as it had protected me.  At least in theory.

So last night I decided to spend a few hours at The Hills on my regular Friday night overnight tour.  For those of you who may not realize, The Hills is different from my day to day work because I basically set the pace of how much, or how little work I want to do.  Over the last few weeks, ever since I found myself on the other side of a deathbed, just the thought of setting foot back onto an ambulance was enough to make me nauseous… literally.  So I decided to do this in an attempt to work on my focus and take it slowly back.  Of course, it wasn’t just KC and I like usual, The Terrorist rode along as a third both for the company and acting as a sort of safety net… just in case.

So last night I got there and was a little early.  The Steff and The Donkey came by to drop some stuff off and to chit-chat.  The Terrorist followed shortly thereafter, and KC was a few minutes late.  Before we went out, they brought me into the office, and The Steff told me that if I remembered correctly that they still owed me a birthday gift, which I remember telling them I didn’t want anything but that’s really neither here nor there.  So, in true Steff fashion, she whips out this purple glittery bag that just oozed 70’s disco.  After ooohing and ahhhhing the bag, I took out its contents.

Wrapped in paw print tissue paper inside was a little blue box.  I opened the box, and inside was a gold cross with the Star of Life medallion in the middle of it.  Needless to say I was pretty speechless.  See, I know the piece was discontinued in gold by the manufacturer back in 1999.  This piece is custom made.  It was custom made for me by them.

Sure, it hasn’t guided me through the rubble of 220 stories, walked with me through the flooded city, or been touched by a man once considered the next possible Pope… but I have no doubt that the love that forged it will protect me the same just as the original is undoubtedly protecting DJ.

So I sat here yesterday for a good three hours trying to tell you all something.  First I was going to write about how great The Transformers movie was.  Then I was going to write about the capture of the Yellow Mustard Belt by Joey Chestnut at Nathan’s and how it is the first time in this century (21st Century) that the belt champion is from the United States.  Then I was going to write about how much trouble I was having getting the writing started… but no matter what I couldn’t quite get it done yesterday… even though it still is kinda yesterday since I haven’t gone to bed yet.  The truth is… I have my moments.

There are bad moments.

Last night I went with The Steff, The Donkey, and The Terrorist to go watch the fireworks over the East River.  There were actually alot more people there that I knew, and some I didn’t, but that’s all besides the point.  First we went to dinner right there at the Waterfront Crabhouse.  It was raining, but not badly.  It was more of a drizzle.  Everything was going okay… I had a few moments where I found myself staring over at some kids playing and eating… wondering… but I was okay.  Dinner was great… but then as I was eating… someone said something… and I found myself no longer hungry… in fact I felt nauseous… and… I felt anger.

I had to get up and go have a cigarette.  Then I had another.  Normally I should have pounded the table, lashed out, and finished my meal.  I just couldn’t.  While I know they had no intention of saying what they said to hurt me, in fact it wasn’t even at me, it still got me boiling… because I look around and see people mostly carefree and nonchalant, and taking advantage of having something that they really have no idea how precious it is… so half of me wants to smack them and scream at them to wake-up… and the other half just wants to curl up into a ball.

There are good moments.

After dinner we stood in the middle of the street to watch the fireworks.  Of course, at 9:00pm which was 15 minutes before the start of the show, it started to downpour.  Since we had already given up the table there was little cover we could find except for a few people who had the foresight to bring umbrellas… and of course The Donkey and his orange poncho that his sister gave him for his birthday that was on Tuesday.  It may not have always been what he wanted, but it was something he obviously needed.

This is the one time of year I use the Fireworks setting on my camera.  Since this is actually a new camera, it was my first time using it.  To be honest… I wasn’t too impressed.  I ended up needing a tripod… which I just happened to have … but still… the pics came out kinda blurred.  Then for some reason I couldn’t find the Night Portrait setting, only to realize when I got home it was on the dial and not the menu.  Duh.  The show was pretty good though, and luckily the rain had stopped long enough for it to go off without us having to duck for cover.

So yeah… I have my moments.  Sometimes they are singular events.  Sometimes they are clumped together hours at a time.  Sometimes other people set them off.  Sometimes I do it to myself.  1,440 moments in a day… I can at the best hope for half of them to be good ones.

I know I normally don’t do this… but in case I forget… I want to write about the e-mail I got tonight… so NOTE TO SELF- Write about the e-mail from the site.