I’ve got the strangest song stuck in my head…
don’t say a prayer for me now/save it ’til the morning after
Duran Duran, I think.
“An eye for an eye
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” – Ghandi
seen on Metafilter discussion.
still trying to get my
still trying to get my work done, while scary thoughts run through my head. my hands are shaking & cold, my stomach is churning. (cramps not helping.)
news reports, carried by co-workers & metafilter, say that palestinians are dancing in the streets. I am trying not to be zenophobic, not to be racist, but it’s hard. it’s going to be hard for our leaders to avoid doing something really, really stupid. because I think bombing whoever into glass/stone age would be stupid. call me crazy, but I fear it would only make things worse.
but GWB is our president, so stupidity is unlikely to be avoided.
okay, I said I wasn’t
okay, I said I wasn’t going to post at work again, but today seems a little different somehow. I won’t link to anything, as it’s all a moving target right now. (the internet traffic is just insane, btw.)
sent this email to a bunch of friends/relatives:
I don’t know what to say – only this feeling that I need to reach out to the people I love. I’m reading what news I can get on the internet (traffic is too high for any audio/video) and am filled with a sinking feeling…like today was the end of something.
love,
elaine
ps: edith or elizabeth, could you forward this on to ms. nicholson? I can’t find her address.
pss: aunt susie, thank you so much for the earrings – they are lovely!
just got a reply from Greyson, who I haven’t talked to in so long. he’s taking the day off to be with Michel, which makes me breathe a little easier, seeing as how he works in downtown SF. now if I heard from Stephanie (in Virginia/DC) I’d feel better.
I’m filled with this floating anxiety. I can’t concentrate – just cancelled my first meeting of the day because I am hopelessly unprepared. what will happen now? that’s the only thought in my mind. that, and that we are at war – or on the verge of it.
some center of morbid humor in my brain keeps reminding me that Pearl Harbor Day is the day after Edith’s birthday – and now this thing is the day after mine.
wore myself out with cleaning
resisting writing my deepest darkest
resisting writing my deepest darkest thoughts. I’ve become increasingly touchy about what I write in this space.
Monday is my birthday. woo-fucking-hoo. no plans – only just realized that I should do something. haircut tomorrow, tho I don’t know when. should call Kat & find out, then call Matt & see if he wants to come down & hang out. or something.
whither MeFi?
whither MeFi?