September 11th, Revisited

I'm never one to be in possession of a "popular" opinion (unless you count "Pizza is yummy.", or "Dubs--that's my 'affectionate' nickname for the president--is a blithering idiot."), and today is no exception.
I'm sitting in my cubicle at work, surrounded by people wearing red, white, and blue to "show their patriotism". We were encouraged to "bring in baked goods and take care of one another". The manager said we should "feel free to come and talk to her if we needed to".
I should be a "good person" and NOT feel utterly annoyed by all this hoopla. But...I must admit I'm chock full of irritation.
Yes, it was horrible. Completely awful. My heart goes out to all who were affected by the events of "That Day". And yes, we all were on some level.
But people, PLEASE! Stop using this as an excuse to suck up attention and sympathy. How is today any different for the victims' loved ones than the anniversary of any loss? Do I get extra attention on days that call up my own painful memories? Will my co-workers bring in baked goods and coddle me on those days? Methinks no.

I compare the events of September 11th to an incident that happened many moons ago when I was in high school. This girl, one of the "popular", bitchy girls that everyone loves to hate; was involved in a car accident. A bad car accident. At school the next day, announcements were made and special drop-in counseling centers were set up. People walked around numbly, full of shock and disbelief. And SCADS of people who didn't even know, much less like this girl started coming out of the woodwork, weeping and needing special attention to get through the "ordeal". Months later, she recovered and returned to school, forever changed (she had suffered some head trauma and was never "the same" again...). So, was she welcomed with open arms by everyone who had so mourned her injuries? Well, no. She never had any friends after that. Everyone avoided her, once their personal thirst for attention and sympathy was quenched.

So, there you have it. America is a popular, bitchy girl I went to high school with.

Oh, and here's something else that pissed me off this morning. Apparently a bunch of victims' survivors are suing the owner(s) of the WTC, saying it was not built correctly to allow for escape.

Er, pardon me for saying so, but WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!? Did you not get enough money already? Is there no end to your greed? Why subject yourselves to reliving something so horrific?

Oh, that's right. Cold, hard cash.

I'd like to bitch-slap them all.


Tell me, when my father the firefigher (for the record, he IS a firefighter; or more specifically, a fire chief) runs into a burning mass of twisted metal to rescue YOUR father, and is killed in the process; am I going to receive "compensation"?

Or, will I just have to learn to live without my Daddy--like everyone ELSE who loses someone they love has to do?