I'm completely stunned by the bombing at the Marathon yesterday. Seriously, what the fuck?
So, I don't live IN Boston. I live in Worcester, which is 40 miles west of Boston. It's an hour-ish drive and if you plan it correctly, isn't even that bad until you actually get into the city (it's mostly a highway drive, so you just have to watch out for traffic, which is not always predictable but usually is). I've never been to the actual marathon, but I'VE BEEN ON MANY OF THOSE STREETS BEFORE. I've spent entire days in Boston, from sunup to sundown. The city was my 2nd home for 3 years of grad school. I loved Boston before school, but I fell in love with it even more during grad school... and that was with limited exposure and pretty much only hanging around the school neighborhood.
You know what makes it so scary? I could have been there. Joe and I could have been there. Anybody and everybody I know could have been there yesterday, for any number of reasons. And, for the same number of reasons, we weren't. I just.. all those injured people could have been me or my friends and family. So scary, and the photos are only making things worse.
Obviously, this hits a lot closer to home for me than 9/11. I feel like I want to do something, but I don't know what. I don't have any skills to go and help people get better. I can figure out how to send care packages, but let's be honest: if you just lost both of your legs, are chocolate chip cookies really going to do anything for you? Negative. Maybe donate blood? That seems like a good thing to do.