Wow...

I Can't believe it's been ten years. A whole decade. Since I got up, started getting ready for college, and I was told to come into the house (I was living in my mother's garage because I was 18 and the house they were renting was only 3 bedrooms, there was a 6-foot deep 'shop' in the back with no door that became my "room") and watch the news. I said "no. I don't watch the news, especially not first thing in the morning." Come in anyways. NOW. You need to see this. So I sighed in frustration and I did.
Just as the second plane hit.
I watched the towers fall and felt sick.
I didn't have much feeling just nausea. That didn't go away for a long time and I cautiously watched whenever an aircraft flew overhead for a long, long, long time. Even when I was watching I would remind myself that I was in the unwashed armpit of CA and that no one would even care if an entire fleet of aircraft crashed here - 'prolly wouldn't even really change the terrain more less the scenery.
I felt like a fraud for feeling a little sad, probably more than a little sad, and guilty because I didn't know anyone, or anyone who really new anyone, who was killed or injured. What right had i when there were people who were living the reality?
And yet I was kinda in shock.
And life went on. Clases, even that day, continued. People still worked. They still ate. Babies still cried. And yet, while everything was so the same, everything is forever different.
So much fallacy still surrounds that day. And, I'm certain, so many lies. And even a decade later, it continues.
I'm obligated to point out that there was certainly come good to come out of the terror I am positive was encouraged at the time (I mean, seriously, *terror level RED* - in the central valley?? Give me a freaking break. When I heard that I actually laughed, rolled my eyes, and asked "what? They're going to crash something this far into the Delta??? Give me a break."). Babies were conceived. Oh, so many babies. Friends were made. Relationships were born. Crap, I imagine people were married. People got closer to their families and reconnected with those they hadn't even thought about for a long, long time. I met MommyM in a chat room. Life moved on.
Life moves on still.
And yet, anyone over the age of, eh, about 13 or so, remembers 9-11.