I didn't "know" you when you wrote this and to read it now brings tears to my eyes. Thank heavens you were not in that building... but such a shame all those others were.
I'm sorry, but must we all continue to participate in the Grief Parade? It happened, it's over, let's move on.
I'm sick of being forced to "remember" every fucking year. Remember who? The faceless handful that died? I'd rather waste my energy remembering actual people I've loved. All this enforced grief on a global scale is tiresome and, ultimately, works the opposite way you want it to.
They say that, when the economy tanks and you can't see any way through your pile of bills and are wondering who you'll look wearing one of those barrels with shoulder straps, women buy lipstick and everyone goes to upbeat, escapist movies to take their minds off their troubles. But I'm here to tell you that any lipstick worth having is nigh 'bout $20 or more and you'll just end up regretting it, and Hollywood has not caught up with the times yet. Plus, it's Oscar season, so once you've seen Slumdog Millionaire your choices are sexy Nazis seducing children, attractive suburbanites mourning the death of their dreams, and nuns and priests talking about child abuse. (That said, I hear Gran Torino is a good diversion with a message, and if you don't hate Brad Pitt as much as I do you could probably sit through that Owen Meany movie where he ages like he's from Ork .) And while I'm as big a Kevin James fan as the next person, you can't ask him
This prize is awarded to the Executive MBA student who is judged by his or her peers to have contributed most to the overall success of the programme. Awarded to: Me I'm really happy about this - I've been the stream rep between the administration and my fellow students, which is the primary reason I've won this...I've managed a lot of situations and helped sort out problems, and while it's been a bit of work it's also been quite fun. I've got all sorts of thoughts and feelings, and in about an hour I'm calling my mom to hear about Thanksgiving with my brother and to tell her the news, but the over-riding reflection I have is this. My dad would be very, very proud. This would have made his day.
Comments
Hugs to you!
I'm sick of being forced to "remember" every fucking year. Remember who? The faceless handful that died? I'd rather waste my energy remembering actual people I've loved. All this enforced grief on a global scale is tiresome and, ultimately, works the opposite way you want it to.
Fuck Bush and double-fuck the fake war on terror.