The Emerald City
Friday, May 8, 2009 at 2:05AM I have been up for over twenty hours straight. I am in Seattle. It's raining, because that's what it does in Seattle.
In the airport, a woman sitting next to me was reading a news feed on her laptop. She read the headline "Elderly woman killed in car crash" out loud. She then said to her friend, "Well, I talked to my mom earlier today, so I know I it wasn't her."
It is a truly messed up world view to take any event, no matter how remote, and immediately view it in terms of how it affects you directly. This woman goes through life operating on the assumption that all events must in some way be connected to her--that all reality is merely a vast story in which she is the main character and we are merely sub plots. I noted the name on her boarding pass and silently vowed to find and kill her mother.
Who's the subplot now?