Thursday, July 07, 2005

 

Down on your knees, motherfuckers


And the fatherfuckers too, please. And also those who are not fucking anyone at all, if you don't mind.

London seems to have just been blown up.

I'm still not quite sure what has happened. Neither is anyone else, it's all too new and scary. All I know is that I have a friend coming home from Manchester today and she's slated to take off within the next hour or so.

I have no idea if she made it to the airport. I have no idea if she was on the subway or on a bus. I have no idea if her plane will make it out.

She went to England to take her husband's ashes back to his family. He died two years ago from pancreatic cancer, a long and painful process, and she finally got her shit together enough to take him home and get some closure, and now this.

She was part of the whole weird process when my husband and I got together almost ten years ago (a story for another day). When we finally got hitched, we had a honeymoon cottage all lined up in Gray's Harbour and then the owner of the cabin went in to do some upgrades, moved the toilet and trashed his hip to the point where he needed a hip replacement (again) and the cabin didn't have a toilet.

We thought that although a remote cabin was romantic, a remote cabin without a toilet was just ... icky. I told patty-anne about this (she insists on the lower case letters, btw) and she said "I have a room downstairs that is totally private and has its own bathroom. We are three minutes from the beach. How long may we have you for?" She is so gracious that she made it seem like we were doing HER a favour by staying with her for our honeymoon.

So we went there and we went to the Da Vinci display at the Victoria Museum or whatever it's called, and we ate and hung out and walked on the beach and got coffee in bed (delivered by her and a very enthusiastic dog) every morning and it was the Best. Time. Ever.

She has been through a whole lot of crap, much of which is hers to tell, not mine, but she is a remarkable lady.

And now ... she might be at the airport ... she might be on a bus ... she might be on the subway ... she might even be dead.

So I'm freaking a little.

So yeah, motherfuckers, fatherfuckers, selffuckers and nobody at all fuckers, if you'd do me the favour of getting right down on your knees and talking to whatever deity you converse with, I'd appreciate it. If you don't have a deity, mine doesn't require a whole lot of introductory stuff and doesn't mind if you never talk to it again, so talk to it, mmkay?

I'll know within 12 hours if she's all right, I think. In the meantime, I'm just going to try to keep breathing.

And praying.

Comments:
Do you know which airline she's travelling with and any other flight details? I'm presuming she was flying from Heathrow rather than Manchester Airport?

If so drop me a line and I can ring the airport for you to see if she was on her flight, cheaper than an International call for sure.

Anna
 
I'm thinking of her (and you) and hoping for the best.
 
My thoughts are with her. Please let us know as soon as you do if she is ok.
 
Good thoughts going that way. And your way.
:)
 
Sending wishes your way. My boss has a son living in London, and she hasn't heard from him yet.
 
I couldn't believe it either. I have not turned on the news but have been following it on the Net. I am so tired of this shit. Why can't we all just get along ???
 
Scary shit, oh bunny one. I hope all is well with your patty-ann.

Perhaps the Flying Spaghetti Monster can help or at least make you smile. http://www.venganza.org/
 
I'm on my knees darling, fighting to type through the tears, can't stand any more of this. My eldest daughter is flying to London at the end of the summer and now I have international terrorism to worry about on top of her being a 20 year old abroad. Sorry, this shouldn't be about me, I'll behave and get back to praying.
 
I'm praying, I'm praying, sweet pea. for what it's worth, I believe she is ok. just tired to her bones.
let us know, 'K?
 
**HUGS** hope things are ok.
 
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