Emotional legacy of 9/11

The fear is gone. The questions of how and why have been resolved. The feelings of unity of purpose and resolve have long-since disappeared.

But 10 years after Sept. 11, 2001, the pain and emotion remain just below the surface, like water behind a dam just below the level of the spillway. All it takes is the least bit of rain, the smallest wave, to make the emotions spill over again.

I am not delving in to much, or any, of the 9/11 anniversary coverage. I don't want to be overwhelmed by the pain and sadness anymore. I'm tired of tears.

The rawness of emotion exposed on Sept. 11 has never healed in me. Any sad news seems to strike that same sensitive wound created on that surreal day. My heart bleeds at the slightest touch.

This weekend, I'm just trying to get through and not poke that sensitive spots any more than is absolutely necessary.

Smudging my digital fingerprints

My digital life is too complicated. I have too many usernames, addresses, accounts, IDs, passwords and profiles.

I started off intentionally trying to keep some parts of my digital life separate. Keeping home away from work. Keeping family away from hobbies. That sort of thing. But I am beginning to wish I was part of a younger generation that doesn't compartmentalize life that way. With all these accounts, it would be much simpler to just let me be me, regardless of which hat I'm wearing.

I am so tempted to just go through and start merging or deleting accounts and just let Google or Facebook be my conduit to the whole digital realm.

But that scares me too.

I thought I simplified my life when I was able to merge calendars and check multiple e-mail accounts on my cell phone. But I got digging around some of my accounts tonight and realized I don't know which one I use for some services anymore. And don't even get me started on things like phone numbers.

I couldn't tell you what my direct line phone number is at work if it wasn't printed on my business card. If my phone ever breaks and I'm left stranded on the side of the road, I wouldn't know who, or how, to call anyone for help. I guess I could call my parents. I remember their phone number. They've had the same one since 1973. That I can remember, but their address, which changed some years ago to make it easier for police and fire department find their house, well I haven't known their address since then. I think I have it in my GPS. If the battery is charged.

Blogging by phone

I added the Blogger app to my Droid phone. I don't know if it will make me blog any more. But it's nice to know I can blog on the go.