We had a really wild, fun time this weekend. I mean celeb-filled late-night parties and marathon drinking and smoking and joining live bands to sing a song and frenetic dancing and laughing and fun.

Some of us acted out of character and that's okay too. Some did things for the first time and others did things they hadn't done in years.

But all of us being together, our Phillie and New York contingents, is an underlying reminder of what happened and how we have changed. No one can be alone. One of our married guys, turned to me on Friday night and said, "NO! No one goes home. We can't be alone. I never want to be alone again. I want to be with you guys."

That's kinda how we all feel. No one wants to separate.

We hug a lot. This weekend when one of the guys got drunk and angry, I found myself hugging him and reminding him that the world is filled with love. Regardless of what 19 have done, there are millions of people in this country and abroad filled with love for us and we have to embrace the love. We have to perpetuate the love.

I have no idea where I pull this attitude from but I know that I can't join the anger bandwagon because there are too many on it and because I have the power among my friends to be their Voice of Reason.

But the truth is that I'm sad and I'm pissed off too. I think it's Bullshit wth a capital "B" that 6 of my friends were killed in those towers.

There. I said it. They were killed. They died. They're dead. They're not gone, they're dead.

Other Americans will die on our soil too, in acts of terrorism or now, acts of war.

I don't think the rest of country is prepared for that, but in New York, we know. It could be us again. We know that too.

When I told my roommate that some of the friends backed out of coming here this weekend because of the Anthrax scare, she rolled her eyes. "Please," she said, "like we all aren't going soon."

That's kind of the feeling here - among my friends at least. Many of us understand that we may be next. We laugh at these precautions people are taking.

I ditched the gas mask idea weeks ago. Why bother?

But we haven't lost our zest for life. In fact, I feel more alive than I ever did. I don't take any time I have for granted.

On this lazy Sunday night, my roommates and I laid in my bed and discussed the events of the weekend. One of my roommates cried a little, because she felt sad. But mostly, we are happy to be here.

Two buildings are gone here, but many more are standing. Same goes for my friends.

*~*

A weird thing happened to me when I sat down to write this entry. Someone tapped me on my back twice. I leapt out of my chair but no one is in my room. I pulled off my t-shirt, but there was no bug on my back.

Maybe I'm going crazy, or maybe my friends and I aren't the only ones up to high-jinxs.

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