Bolg 13 Brainstorming for project 2 draft 2

It was Grandma Millie’s ninety five birthday party yesterday Oct 2011 and everybody had come up from Pennsylvania or down from North Jersey and New York and mom visited from California. It was a success and we all had slight worries that grandma would do what grandpa did and pass away on the birthday and turn the whole thing into a funeral. Grandma and I live in her home in Springfield New Jersey even though my life takes place in Manhattan.

The final year of Grandpa Dave’s life was the most stressful year of my own. I didn’t just rush to the rescue as grandpas’ health declined and move into the house like some kind of super grandson. I was already there. I had arrived back after three years in Australia only to find the obvious. No jobs no good rents and no joyous overwhelming prosperity. The ten thousand dollars I had saved in Oz became five thousand after the currency exchange back in the USA.

The difference was nine eleven years earlier. While in Australia on November 12th I walked my then girlfriend Kirsten to the train and while in line for espresso I was pulled aside by an Aussie who heard my accent, then asked if was a yank, meaning “American” or a Canadian. “New York” I said. “Jesus what do you think of what happened” he asked. “What Happened” I asked, Jesus he said and dragged me out of line to a new paper. The burning trade centers photo was on the cover of the Sydney Morning Herald, the same paper I had an appeared in months earlier.

I rushed back to Kirsten’s apartment and called all friends and found that John Perry was able to answer and he confirmed that everyone was all right, even Leo who worked at the stack exchange missed work that day because he had stayed out the entire night all the way through till morning and was still at a party during the attack. Even I and Lisa the ex spoke and confirmed all NYC friends were fine. I was in shock. I went to work at the café in Rushcutters bay and stood around shocked and weirded out. The guy that I was working with that day was from Kosovo and had very little sympathy for me because this was a daily occurrence in his life.

Emma the adorable English lesbian manager sent me home after thirty minutes. I sat there all day on the phone. It was beautiful in Sydney and the pool outside Kirsten’s bedroom was gleaming with sunlight but I couldn’t feel any of it that day. I wanted to go home and hug friends. Jennifer Justice was on the phone crying are you coming home, “no” I said.