boston

monday 4/15/13, i was in the middle of a huge clusterfuck with my school stuff. all over my trying to be professional. it's a long and boring (and quite appalling) story, but i'd really rather graduate before sharing my true experiences as a student. so i'll condense. i had plans to observe some classroom instruction in NM for my practicum (which takes the place of a normal thesis), so i was requesting an actual picture ID to wear while on campus. the 'issue' was escalated a couple times. 

in the afternoon i get a text from a friend asking if i was watching TV. i turned it on to see the repeat and repeat of the video of the bomb going off at the finish line of the boston marathon.

there are no words, so i won't even attempt to express some minor translation of the horror i felt that day, and the days following. i can say that when they caught the final bastard on friday night, i was happier then than when they caught bin laden. that speaks volumes. this one felt like a personal attack. on me. on my fellow athletes.