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I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner. I no longer have the vocabulary to talk about the hideous disasters happening in New Zealand, Japan, and elsewhere, not to mention the ongoing struggle in places whose disasters are already yesterday's news, and there doesn't seem to be anything else worth talking about. I get very agitated reading the newspaper. Chris says, "Well, then don't read it."

I say, "They deserve for me to!"

He says, "Well, not if it's going to freak you out. Those people don't want you freaking out on their behalf."

I say, "THEY DO! I DID!"

Yes. In the early days of August-September 2005, it made me unreasonably furious to think anyone anywhere was leading a normal life. Later on, it was comforting to spend a few days in a place (Chicago) that wasn't full of gas lines, MREs, and other refugees before coming back to New Orleans and trying to rebuild some kind of life. Right after it happened, though, the whole world was turned upside down as far as I was concerned. I'm not saying this is right or wrong, only that it's how I felt.


Mar. 14th, 2011 02:41 am (UTC)
People ask me where I was on 9/11, and the answer was, furiously working like crazy, because the company I worked for had products directly involved in the immediate aftermath, to help and assist. Though I wasn't a firefighter or policeman on the front lines, there's just a part of me conditioned to "it's go time" when I see something like this.

But then again, a childhood friend's dad was one of those lost in the Indonesian tsunami, so this was a bit more difficult to watch, and a bit less to switch off the empathy for.

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