My birthday officially became a morbid pavlovian response. I believe that this event occuring on my birthday actually gave me a stronger bond to the tragedy than most. I don’t know why, but when you “celebrate” every one of your birthdays with the images being replayed you just get attached to it. Oh yeah, I also believe that I obtained a greater distaste for the radical islam since they F’d up my birthday.
In other news, it was nice to witness the national moment of silence at work. Given that if a machine goes down everyone screams bloody murder but to honor those fallen on 9/11 and beyond the entire plant shut down for the moment. Add in that “I’m proud to be an American” was blasting away on the shop radio and it was a great moment.
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I have given your CD to myself. Feel free to treat yourself to my CD…
I had no idea that it was your birthday… if I did I would have sent you something nice… but since I didn’t, you’ll be satisfied with what I got you last year.
Happy Birthday!
I need your cell number.
i love you
Agent,
I just want you to know that I think of you as my brother. Not as my fraternal brother, but in the way black people call each other brother. I think that means more.
Happy Birthday, brother.