Who sir me sir? Yes sir you sir. No sir not I sir.

friends?

I think about this all the time. Sometimes I feel like I’d have stronger relationships with the friends that I see on a routine basis if they were all as present online as these other friends are. These face-to-face friends would know more details about my everyday goings-on, and I’d understand more about their perspectives, as well. I’d know they were reading the same articles, reviews, and blogs that fascinate, or sometimes anger, me. We’d feel more comfortable expressing our opinions to each other and probably wind up attending more social gatherings together. It makes sense that we’d have deeper, more thoughtful conversations (in person and online) as a result. Perhaps I’m just wishing that I knew all my online friends in person. But then, what would happen to the people I hang out with right now? Would my friendships with them fade away? Man, this is getting way more complicated than it needs to be. =/

johncabrera:

I remember I found this really moving when I read it back in the spring… maybe because I’ve had similar thoughts.

Anyway, at the time I reblogged it, but only as a saved draft. I’ve been holding on to it, and I guess now it feels appropriate to post.

kelseroo:

I was thinking today about social networking. I have many people that I have a “friendship” with purely on the internet. I read their blogs, their tweets, and listen to their blips. They read and listen to mine. We comment on each other’s posts, leave kind messages, ask how each other is doing, etc. Sometimes I feel like I really know who these people are. Many of them I feel like if we actually hung out in real life, we’d be best buds. It’s a weird relationship. I don’t REALLY know these people. They don’t really know me. I will probably never meet any of them personally. Many of them live thousands of miles away. And yet I do think about them. I wonder what they’re up to. I wonder if they ever think about me. Or if years from now they will remember me. If my computer busted tomorrow and I had no internet access from now on, would they wonder where I went? Is this all a waste of time? Hmm…..

9/11 is my aunt & uncle's wedding anniversary...

… and I’ve promised myself I would try to think of their wedded bliss for the bulk of the day. Since today is pretty much over and done, I think I’m allowed to surrender my thoughts to the day that none of us can forget.

I admit that the details are a bit fuzzy, but I’ll share whatever I can remember in hopes that it’ll strike up more accurate memories. Please forgive my, er, *interesting* logic.

It was my second week of college, and I was actually beginning to settle into my living arrangements. Over the summer, I had made the life-changing decision to move away from home. Sure, home would be only twenty minutes away, but it was a big deal for me because I had always imagined my college years with the support of my family surrounding me – sometimes all of us in the same room, which you’d think I’d find overwhelming, but no, at the time I found it comforting.

Upon meeting my support system at the dorms, I learned very quickly that my RA was going to keep the tension low on our floor. He was one of *those* people. Intelligent. Funny. Charming. The point is, with him at the helm, I was at ease. Worst possible scenario: I could someday be the butt of one of his jokes, which I’m sure would have been mortifying for all of five minutes. In other words, in my mind, there was no worst possible scenario.

I woke up early that Tuesday morning because I had made it a personal goal to get into the habit of eating breakfast, the meal I’d always managed to skip throughout high school. Patting myself on the back for waking up on time, I exited my dorm room, only to find my perfectly charming RA pacing the hall. He looked lost, befuddled,… out of his freakin’ mind. All he could muster were the fragmented questions, “Have you seen? Have you heard?” From what I can remember, I responded, “Uh, no. Look, I’m running late. Are you gonna be okay?” As I walked away, I heard him say something about terror, and I was sure he was simply making a joke that wasn’t very funny. I laughed, like I’d hurt his feelings if I didn’t.

I scurried down the stairs and shook my head, thinking, “Man, he needs to get some sleep. Poor guy.” There weren’t many folks out and about yet, but I figured it was normal for that time of day. Within two minutes, I discovered how wrong I was… and why my RA had been acting strange. The TVs in the caf had CNN on as usual. However, the dead silence in the building full of students, faculty, etc. was not something I had encountered or would ever encounter again.

I saw the news that day – over and over and over again – and none of it truly registered in my brain until late that night as I lay in bed. Most classes had been canceled for the day, some for the week. I’m definitely a feeler, so I spent most of my free time in the chapel that week. Crying. Praying. Crying again. What else could I do?