Salty tears
September 16, 2001tonight, the tears came. i hadn’t been able to cry all week, although i wanted to, although i felt like i should (and felt guilty that i hadn’t). i cried for the mother clutching the framed photographs of the child she’d never see again. i cried for the children who have to see the horrific images flashing on the same TV that brings barney to their living room. i cried for the lack of compassion, understanding and education, my own and the rest of the world’s.
life goes on, everyone says, and that goes for both the triumph and tragedy of every day. so there may be laughter and drinking and eating and singing, but there is also sickness and heartbreak and corruption and death. every hour of every day. and now, this, too? it’s too much for me to wrap my head and heart around.
nothing makes sense right now.
I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>
I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
I look on the bright side.
I take photos. Lots of photos.
I wish on stars and on websites.
I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.
