Stacy Horn

Christ, a nuclear plant building exploded in Japan, Qaddafi seems to be gaining ground—I’m sorry all who are suffering and in trouble today. My problems seem so petty.

I didn’t turn around to see what they were all looking up at. Because I was afraid it might be a giant tarantula.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night from a nightmare about a Japanese friend of mine. I dreamed that he and were about to die in this horrible disaster, except just when we were about to die, suddenly we were in a boat. With my cats. Who were not in carriers. (I actually took a moment to contemplate how I would have gotten my cats into a boat without carriers.)

I turn on the tv and see the news about the quake and the tsunami in Japan. The footage we’re seeing of the tsunami is horrifying. It looks really terrible. I hope the loss of life isn’t as bad as it looks. But we’re thinking of you and we hope you’re all okay.

We’ve just got rain. From a pretty dismal looking movie shoot yesterday.

Back from my yearly WTC check-up, everything is great except for my lungs which aren’t bad. They tried to cheer me up with, “Most people we see have the lungs of 100 year olds.” You’d think all the exercise and years of living in a walk-up would help. Actually it has in terms of my heart, but not my lungs. Oh well. Could be worse. I guess it is for all the poor people with the lungs of 100 year olds. In any case, something is going to get us in the end.

I took this walking back to the subway. I’m not used to seeing hills. We don’t have them downtown.

That’s me on the left in high school, and I’m about to get certified. I remember I found a lobster and got very excited. We were diving in the Long Island Sound, and you couldn’t see much. A lobster was a big deal.

Poor, sad, diving us.

No one. How have I missed the GIANT hand above Madame Tussauds wax museum all these years?? It’s a big freaking hand. It reminds me of the time I went to Staten Island to see one of the detectives I was writing about. It came out that I hadn’t noticed something about the barber shop we were in. So he started asking me questions about the other people inside, and the decor, etc. I couldn’t remember anything about the inside of the place. Not a thing. It was like I was never even in there. Elvis could have been getting his haircut and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I would make a terrible witness. Whatever or whoever has my attention is the only thing that exists for me, apparently. I was interviewing him and I was oblivious to everything else. But come on, how did I miss this giant hand??