Ten Years Ago
What I remembered about that morning was that that morning, my dad and I had actually had a very good conversation in the car. I feel like at that part we had trouble understanding each other, but that morning we had really connected over classical music. And it wasn't until I was standing at the door to the building, I turned around and saw the second Camille (a girl who had always been friendly towards me) ran towards me, waving her arms and yelling, "Did you hear? They bombed the World Trade Center!"
Me, the ever informed and ultra aware of the world, went "The what?"
Later someone explained to me it was the Twin Towers. Then I went, "Ohhh." And I just kind of stood there, quietly, while the principal's morning prayer was unusually heartfelt, while we were all comforted, and I was being counseled in dealing with the grief, fear, sorrow, panic, that I did not feel. And that I in fact never felt, not then, not the next day, nor the next week, nor yet.
Anger came later. Anger at the stupid President who as the years went by was never going to stop the war he had started, and more immediate anger at the little drip who began to make bomb noises whenever I went by and lost no opportunity to tell me Mohammed is a terrorist and Osama is his prophet. But that was only one in his vaudevillain repetoire of tormenting me. So really a minor thing, ultimately.
Ten years and honestly I'm just looking forward to all the memorializing being over, so the country can go back to chasing terrorists for oil, supporting the apartheid of Israel, and pouring money into wars instead of schools or the environment with a clean conscience.
I'm not a very good patriot, I'm sorry. I think I'm a good California patriot, for what it's worth.
EDIT: Wait a second... I think I've posted a variation on this theme once a year for the past few years on here. Er. Well, never mind that, flist. You all know how chatty I am.
Me, the ever informed and ultra aware of the world, went "The what?"
Later someone explained to me it was the Twin Towers. Then I went, "Ohhh." And I just kind of stood there, quietly, while the principal's morning prayer was unusually heartfelt, while we were all comforted, and I was being counseled in dealing with the grief, fear, sorrow, panic, that I did not feel. And that I in fact never felt, not then, not the next day, nor the next week, nor yet.
Anger came later. Anger at the stupid President who as the years went by was never going to stop the war he had started, and more immediate anger at the little drip who began to make bomb noises whenever I went by and lost no opportunity to tell me Mohammed is a terrorist and Osama is his prophet. But that was only one in his vaudevillain repetoire of tormenting me. So really a minor thing, ultimately.
Ten years and honestly I'm just looking forward to all the memorializing being over, so the country can go back to chasing terrorists for oil, supporting the apartheid of Israel, and pouring money into wars instead of schools or the environment with a clean conscience.
I'm not a very good patriot, I'm sorry. I think I'm a good California patriot, for what it's worth.
EDIT: Wait a second... I think I've posted a variation on this theme once a year for the past few years on here. Er. Well, never mind that, flist. You all know how chatty I am.