Not what I should be blogging about
I have many things I should be writing about: the wedding of one of my husband's dearest friends, the anguish of jury duty, and the unbelievably precocious and lovely things my daughter says (small sample 1: "I love you so much, Mama--as much as the sky. That's a lot of love. You send the love up to the sky, and then it falls back down on you. Right, Mama?" [Mama: "snuffle."] Small sample 2: She's taken to saying, "Enjoy!" whenever she hands anyone anything. Trés charmante.But what inspired me to actually log in is this:
I now live--and probably will continue to live--in state where people are forever being hit by trains. Lots of people. People in cars. People walking. People on motorcycles. People in trucks.
And not the severely impaired, elderly, or despondent. No: for some reason, one of the base-line characteristics of the people who live here (now, I have not tracked "natives" vs. "immigrant" residents) is either a) the inability to recognize train tracks as the location upon which trains are most likely to be encountered; b) the inability to hear or see thousands of pounds of steel bearing down upon them [and remember, these are not, by and large, people under the influence of temporary or permanent impediments to sensory perception]; or c) some bizarre cult-like expectation that they can stand against a train and win.
It makes me very anxious about raising my daughter here.
Labels: people are stupid, randomness
posted by Unknown @ 11:15 PM
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