I had intended to blog a picture of me headed off to my first ever Marine Ball. And then Paris happened. I wondered if I shouldn’t. I wondered if I should write about trying to keep terror from my 4 year, about how Mr. Rogers’ counseled to find the helpers, about how the world is a scary place for a parent.
But, I won’t. I’m not gonna talk about that, or the tragedy, or the senseless loss. I am not going to feel hopeless or give up. I am going to live my life and go to balls and movies and restaurants and the theater. They don’t get to win. I win. We win.
But, still no group picture of us going to the Ball, because that is on Zach’s camera.
Instead, I am going to talk about a moment. A song came on and I got super excited. I knew the world, loved the song, very excited. Then I remember that the song is actually about rape and a song I HATE… however, the positive reaction in my head was to Wierd Al Yankovic’s version, which is way way better. Sadly, not what they played.