First off... i'm craving contact... if you're out there and reading this, let me know... devem@earthlink.net ... just drop me a line or two...

Alrighty... i'm in a bit of a maudlin goofy mood, so...

Right about now, I'm liking life a lot.

The last week has simultaneously been one of the worst weeks of my life and one of the best. The enormity of what happened in New York City and DC threatened to overwhelm me on more than one moment. I've worked every day but one since September 11th. In that time, I've had to put on a brave front. As a manager in a large retail store (Barnes & Noble), I have to be a leader, an examplar. I have to set the example for others no matter what my own internal feelings. This past week has been my greatest challenge. I've had to manage, shepherd, counsel and simply be there for around 80 shellshocked employees. For a week now, I've gone to my store and put on a brave front, trying to act as though the unfolding events had little effect on me. Sometimes I succeeded, a few times I failed. Mostly I had success.

Its been my responsibility to my staff to be a firm figure of resolve. To act as though what we've all been through was bearable. To counsel those whose feelings threatened to overwhelm them. To referee when two overly emotional employees came to verbal blows over normally inconsequential matters. To gently correct when employees became irritable after being asked for the same books or magazines pertinent to the ongoing crisis for the 700th time.

I went to work and set a brave face. And then on the way home at nite, listening to NPR or whatever radio station happened to be reporting the news (and they all were), I sat behind the wheel of my car and sobbed.

I don't think of myself normally as a patriot. I don't think those who know me necessarily think of me as a caring person. But the events of September 11th 2001 have deeply wounded me.

In one day, our world has changed so enormously that I don't think that even now we can comprehend how much it has changed.

Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing. Ever.

I am so very proud at this moment in time to be an American citizen. We live in such a great country. We have enjoyed such great freedom. We influence the rest of the world as no other country.

But, last week, over 5000 of our citizens died. In spectacularly horrible ways. I stil am not capable of comprehending the enormity of it all.

I still cry when I'm alone.

But...

Over the past week, perhaps because of the horror of these events, I've come to realize that in many ways I have a truly great existence.

I've lived in Louisiana my entire life. Most of it in the small town where I grew up or in Baton Rouge. Almost a year ago, I moved to New Orleans.

I can't possibly express how much I love this city. New Orleans is in my blood. It's the city that I'm meant to coexist within.

The shabby decandent outsider feeling that this city exudes is what flows in my veins. I belong here. I can't imagine ever living anywhere else.

From the moment I moved here, I've met people, for perhaps the first time in my life, who I truly feel a kinship with. Flynn, Robert, Jonno, Tracy... who are new to me. Dave, Brian, Tom, Tanner... who I knew already and most of whom were also drawn to this beautiful place. For most of my life, I've known that I'm truly really not that similar to most people. It's amazingly gratifying to meet other people who are similarly unique.

I was standing on a street corner on Magazine Street earlier this week waiting for a bus and I was suddenly struck, as I looked down the street, how much I truly love the area I live in. The Lower Garden District of New Orleans is such a unique and vital area. It's beautiful. And I feel so very lucky to be here.

I almost feel as though somehow a decision was made on a higher level (and this is coming from an avowed atheist) to send me good thing over the last week.

The Sunday before we were attacked, I met Matthew. I'm a bit smitten with this boy. I don't know where it will go, but for now it's good.

This past Saturday, at our store we had an event called Literary Louisiana. Basically, it was a day to recognize local authors. The basic concept was to get a couple big name to draw people in for the smaller names.

One of our bigger names was Poppy Z Brite. One of my absolute favorite authors, who just happens to live in New Orleans. Well... not quite... she's one of the top authors at describing life in New Orleans...

Regardless, Poppy and I have had an odd email relationship off and on for a year or so. I've participated in her Usenet newsgroup for several years. I've had books signed by her years ago at signings. But, since I've moved to New Orleans, where she lives also, we've never met, despite me working at the bookstore that she shops most frequently.

So, Saturday, we finally met. I'm embarrassed to admit that when she went to hug me, I pulled away from her. I just don't like to be touched unexpectedly. It's one of my fucked up idiosyncrasies (sp?).

Regardless, we had nice conversation every once in a while. I was quite proud of myself because I really viewed her as another cool citizen of NO, and not as an idol. Her husband is also quite the nice guy.

And today, I went to work. On the way to work, I somehow became quite depressed. I think it was mainly the fact that I knew that I had another day of being the 'tough guy' ahead of me. But, my co-assisant manager, Peter, made my day much better. He quite teasingly looked at me and said "hey, do you want this?" and pulled out an Advance Readers Copy of THE SNOW GARDEN by Christopher Rice.

I was made quite happy at that moment.

I'm one of the few that actually quite enjoyed his first book, DENSITY OF SOULS. So, I was quite happy to get a copy of his new book 4 months before the rest of you.

I'll let ya know how it is in a couple of days....