Author: Stacy Horn

I seem to be on a God theme lately, but one of the best things about God is the music written in his name. I went to a summer sing the other night and we sang Mozart’s Requiem. I’m sure most people already know this, but Mozart died while writing this, and it was finished by one of his students. Normally the transition to the student’s stuff doesn’t bother me, I don’t have the most sophisticated ear, but the other night, for the first time, there were parts that felt like it had been written by a third grader after what we had been singing a few minutes ago.

Speaking of death, I was freaking out about the 9/11 tape they were playing over and over, the one with the woman pleading with the 911 operator, “It’s so hot, it’s very very very hot.” That one. It made me stop and think, okay, just what did she have to endure? And I thought it through, the room getting hotter and hotter and hotter, slowly, it must have been like being cooked, hotter and hotter until you can’t breath and die. The fucking horribleness of it all. This happened to someone. I just simply can’t get used to the idea of what some people have had to endure. Some people get a roll of the dice that is so beyond measure horrible that I can’t comprehend the monumental unfairness, the unthinkable awfulness of it.

I never quite understood why people wanted to believe in Hell, but now I kinda see it. Sometimes you are powerless to prevent or do anything about something unspeakably awful. We may never catch Osama bin Laden and the people who planned 9/11. What is left but to take some comfort in the fact that justice will be served in the hereafter? Except I think that’s ultimately a no-win fantasy, that feeds nothing good in the world. It keeps anger and hate alive instead of neutralizing it. Except maybe that kind of fantasy is just a step towards letting go of the anger.

First you elect Bush, TWICE, and now this?? I’m so depressed that Travis didn’t win. Benji is very sweet, I can see the appeal, not just see it, I like him too, but come on. Benji is a great dancer, a great great ballroom dancer. But ballroom aside, Travis is the better dancer. And not just a little better. There were a couple of routines where he genuinely moved me, there was so much expression in his body. Benji made me smile, but Travis made me smile AND also broke my heart.

I also want to put in a good word for Ivan. I agreed with Mia Michaels, who is very articulate, I love her comments, she is extremely good at explaining each dancer’s strengths and weakness, but she said she cried when he was voted off. Ivan was another one who broke your heart.

But here are Travis and Benji, the two top dancers. Congratulations to both of you and thank you “So You Think You Can Dance.” You are my new favorite reality TV show.

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This is just a quick thing to see if I can do it. Can I just say, I LOVE YOUTUBE. Ohmyfucking God!! It worked, didn’t it?? Yay!! Yay!! Yay!! The great thing is, I made this with my existing isight camera, so I don’t have to buy anything. Happy day.

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I don’t believe in God. I am so used to that bringing out the hate, it was a pleasure to see this film on YouTube! Not only did it have an atheist positive message (when do you EVER see that?) but the people commenting were friendly. It didn’t get ugly!

It made me feel good and not alone in the world. People can disagree with me without hating me (and wishing me dead or left-behind in some post-apocalyptic world).

Technically, I’m an agnostic. I don’t really know either way. Atheists say I’m being a wimp, but I think I’m just not being a know-it-all. I really don’t think there’s a God though. I guess I’m an atheist with some reservations.

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Missing Photo! A photograph was here! Don’t know where it went!

My cousin Debbie sent me birthday presents! And my favorite kind!! Old photographs. This one is of my mother (dyed blonde!) my grandmother, and me, at 11-years old.

A flood in the basement of the house where I grew up destroyed all the family photographs that were stored there. As a result, I have only a handful of pictures of myself growing up. I’ve got a couple of me as a baby and a toddler, and one when I was 12-years-old. I have a bunch from 16-years-old on, because my father bought me a camera then, and I went nuts taking pictures, and making albums and I had those with me.

So this picture of me at 11, is one of maybe six photographs that I know of that exist of me before I turned 16. I was a pool rat. I spent every day that I could in the water.

The conversation between me and my mother is probably going something like this.

“How long before I can go back in the water??”
“I told you. A half an hour.”
“It’s been way over a half an hour!”
“It’s been ten minutes.”
“No, it’s been an hour at least.”
“Stacy, you’re not going back in that water until you digest your food.”
“I’m done digesting! I promise!”

Thank you, Deb!!