Soooooooo I got into work later than planned today because the trains were running slowly in Jersey. The station was packed with people and I wasn’t sure why – usually trains run every five minutes and it’s never too crowded because everyone’s either getting on or off. Supplemental safety announcements were mumbled over the intercom, but nobody can ever understand them, so I kept listening to the Beach Boys and wishing my personal space bubble were a little bigger, as the guy next to me had ample opportunity to sniff my dirty sweatshirt sleeves. Sorry, dude. There were also more police officers than usual in the station and on the streets, which is understandable on a day like today.

It seemed, though, like nobody really knew why he or she was standing there. I know that the sheer number of authoritative types hovering can be intentionally intimidating and keep people from acting out, but I felt bad for most of the officers . . . it’s raining today (seems fitting – sunshine wouldn’t fit the mood) and nobody likes to stand on the street when it’s pouring.

But other than the police force out and about, it’s business as usual here in the city, from what I can tell. Of course, this is my first 9/11 in the city, but everybody is still going to work, drinking coffee, jaywalking . . . and that’s exactly what should be happening. No matter what your view on the whole political situation is right now, you have to admire the resilience of the country. I don’t mean buying “POWER OF PRIDE!” bumper stickers that are now in the clearance aisles of Wal-Mart or anything, but rather going back and doing what you used to before the the number came to mean a day that nobody’d forget.

And, for the record (because everyone asks,) I was in American Studies class (hi Sneds and Davis!) ten minutes into a video about the Salem witch trials. Being drowned for witchery seemed pretty trivial after they turned on CNN.

Last but not least – then il faut que j’écrive today’s news post – this is a picture that I took this weekend way downtown. I’d heard about how the site was lit up at night but hadn’t seen it until Friday night when my friend and I were walking nowhere in particular after dinner. Draw your own conclusions, but I think the photo speaks for itself.

Be extra patient with people today, tip your Starbucks barista and call your mom to tell her you love her. It’s that kind of day.

En route to France, I was seated next to one of the guys in our study abroad group who I didn’t know at all, and it would have been a long eight hour flight if one of us hadn’t said something to break the ice. We’d “hihowareya”d and everything, but . . . yeah.

The Postal Service’s “Against All Odds” came up in conversation because he had the CD and I had it on my mp3 player; I mentioned how much I loved good covers, and the general consensus was that it was, in fact, an approved version. We started talking and found out that we had more in common than dabbling in electro-pop . . . we lived fifteen minutes away from each other at home, stayed in dorms right across the street and had been high school band nerds.

Fast forward two years and we’ve gotten to be very close friends . . . in fact, he made the trip from Ohio to visit me in NYC last month, and I miss him metric tons.

So, would we have been friends if it weren’t for the song? Probably. But was that a way for us to find similarities between ourselves? Definitely. I’m glad we did.

That was a great question. It was like my musical life flashed before me, from car accidents to middle school dances and college parties.

And, for the record, I love Premium. My browser closed unexpectedly, but the entry survived! A++++, would use again.   

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Also, I feel obligated to write about Britney at the VMAs last night.

Granted, I’m not her, I have no idea what’s going on in her head right now, but I know what I saw last night, and I think it spoke volumes. 

I saw her in concert in . . . November of 2001 (I can’t believe I
remembered that) and was pretty impressed, but it was more because of
the stage show than of her actual performance.

I’m intrigued by her,
though, because she’s grown up in such a different environment than
what most of us have, and I think that’s affected the way she
lives. And whether you agree or disagree with her lifestyle, I think it’s
definitely carried over into her performances. While it was brave of
her to try and come back, it wasn’t the right time, she showed too much
skin and just looked exhausted.

…Baby One More Time came out in January of 1999. That’s over eight years ago. Aside from breathing/eating/whatevering, are you doing anything you did eight years ago? I know I’m not. In fact, I think I’d be so fed up with doing the same thing for that long that I wouldn’t have stuck with it as long as she has.

But what do I know?

What did you guys think? Disappointed? Thrilled? In between?

That of which I am most proud . . . har har.

This one is hard because you can take it so many different ways – there’s pride in yourself, friends and family, accomplishments, people you don’t even know.

Okay, for example, I was on the subway yesterday and the car was PACKED. One woman, who was noticeably pregnant, was standing up because all the seats were taken, so another woman (who, granted, had three large bags to carry) gave up her seat for her. I don’t know if it counts as being proud of someone, but I was glad to see that chivalry and common courtesy are still intact, even in one of the biggest cities in the world.

On a more personal note, I’m proud of myself for getting my act together, moving out of my house and into The Great Unknown; I’m proud of my parents for raising me and my sibs and managing not to die in the process; I’m proud of my BFFs for graduating from college and going their own separate ways despite being scared of not knowing what’s coming next.

I’m just so proud [sniffle].

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As a side note, I have created the strongest, greatest password of all time! I don’t remember it, though . . . this is problematic.

As another side note, my French host mom from 2005 is ADORABLE. I love that she still sends me emails telling me what’s going on en France.

Everyone does, and to an extent, that’s okay.

If I went to the doctor, I wouldn’t want him or her to be wearing pajamas, nor would I really like to see said doctor with a giant boil on his or her head. I think that’s reasonable.

Back (in the stone age) when I went to church, well-dressed people would sneer at people who came in wearing jeans. Hello? At least they came. That’s one occasion when I think people overreact.

But, at the same time, you should really be looking past outside appearances and see people for who they really are! [/elementary school guidance lesson]
   

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 . . . a little bit, yes.

I think that when I have the chance to write things down, I tend to communicate more coherently. I live for the backspace key, editing, having the chance to re-word things . . . I feel like I can actually think when I “talk,” as opposed to having real life conversations and not being able to delete silly things I say.

Otherwise, though, a lot of things that I do online have carried over into real life (namely abbrevs, which I love and use more than occash,) which can be a good or a bad thing. Not everyone knows what “btdubs” means when I say it or what “less than three” means, but growing up online means having a sub-culture that infiltrates your life – and not necessarily in a negative way.

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My fellow Xangans –

Four score and seven years ago (okay, maybe more like . . .
six years ago,) I entered the blogosphere.

As you undoubtedly know, it’s a way
to record your thoughts, to keep everyone up-to-date with what you’re doing and
to find people with similar interests. It’s like having a completely
customizable diary without having to worry about hiding it under your bed. Phew.

Friends, family and I have made yearly lists of our favorite
movies, recorded our dreams and posted pictures (“photosafaris”) that define
who we are and who we want to be.

Anyway.

Thus begins my journey as your source for all things Xanga. I’ll
keep you up to date with the latest and greatest and make sure you have all of
your burning questions answered.  Send
them my way – I’ll be reading comments rabidly – and let me know what you love,
what you hate and whether or not you can help me learn how to play the banjo.

You’ll be hearing from me often – we’re rolling out new features all the time, and it’s up to
you to tell us what you think.

BTW, I’m Natalia – I’m the eldest of five kids, I think long walks on the beach are overrated and I have an undying love for cupcakes.

So, now that I’ve introduced myself, tell me a random fact about
you and what your favorite Xanga feature is, please. I’m curious.

Lateration.