Wow guys. What a week. Seriously, what a $(&#@!^ week. I think the satirical online newspaper, the Onion put it best, “… sorry, is all this sh*t really happening at once? Because if all this sh*t is really happening at once, multiple reports verified, then this might actually be, honest to God, one of the worst weeks of all time.”
For those of you who don’t know, I was born and grew up in a little town 26 miles from Boston, MA. Exactly a marathon away, in fact. As a kid my mom would make chocolate chip pancakes for me and my friends, then we’d walk down to the start line, collecting the sweatshirts runners threw in the streets. 18 years later I attended BU where “Marathon Monday” was better than Christmas: no class, just cheering on the runners while pouring beer after beer into solo cups and grilling curbside. It is an amazing sight to behold. I spent another 4 years living in Boston and working at a local hospital before moving out to Cincinnati, where I live now (yes, I actually have a real career despite my CLEAR internet sensation of a blog —> I kid.)
I’ve been a little MIA from this lil’ blog of mine for the past week as my hometown became, what seemed like, the center of the universe. I don’t have to tell you. It’s been plastered on every media outlet known to man, the grim details tirelessly recounted. Luckily, none of my immediate friends or family were injured by the bombing, just scared sh*t-less for a week. Some of you are more affected by this tragedy than I. Perhaps some of you even live in areas of the world where this is a common occurrence. This post is only meant to share as my own sort of cathartic cleansing, but maybe it will help some of you too.
It’s the sort of thing that’s hard to wrap your head around, learning that your town is under siege, your friends and family forced to stay in their homes. This Friday morning, as swat teams scoured my hometown for the remaining suspect, I was getting ready to head off to the airport, trying to fight back nausea, and incessantly checking the news. As I’m writing this, I’m on a flight back from Miami, where I was sent for a brief work trip. I hate to fly, and terrorist attacks don’t seem to make it any easier. Flying in particular dredges up these flitting thoughts of inner hysteria and get me thinking, “WHAT is going on with the world?,” “it could literally end at any moment.” This as I visualize the plane spinning out of control. Dramatic, I know. But that’s what it feels like right now. Plus, every song I listen to on my iPod 30,000 feet in the air seems to have a poignantly Boston meaning. “My cities still breathing, but barely it’s true. Through buildings gone missing like teeth.” Oof, like a punch to the gut. These lyrics by the Weakerthans, which randomly come across my headphones, I so viscerally feel at this moment. It’s like a bad break up where every word of every song, no matter the intended meaning, relates to your messed up situation.
Really though, as we all rejoice that the bombing suspects are either dead or caught, which is certainly a relief, I can’t help but think, damn, this world can be a messed up place. But, the brave and amazing first responders, police men and women, and all of the citizens of Boston that stood up to terror, remind me that there is still so much good out there. It is comforting for sure. Needless to say, it felt wrong to go about blogging as usual. Rather than going on about some delicious hoppy beverage, or sharing about my crazy pesto shenanigans, I thought I’d share some of my Instagram pictures from my 48 hour trip to Miami. As I look through the pictures, they remind me that the world is a beautiful place, despite the crazies.
Wishing you all a safe week, full of beauty and calm.