+alive - check
+healthy - check
+family - check
+friends - check

To everyone who called, emailed, messaged, prayed, thought, and hoped: thank you. Thank you so very, very much. Hearing your voices, reading your words, and knowing you were thinking of me have been bright spots in this otherwise dismal and frustrating situation.

Anyone reading this most likely knows more than I do about what's been going on in New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina hit Monday - since evacuating Saturday my only source of information has been the rumor mill broadcast on CNN and the slightly more credible phone tree of my fellow displaced employees. My mom managed to zoom in on some satellite photos published by CNN which show my house with its roof still attached and no appreciable amount of standing water. Thankfully, I live on the western side of the 17th street canal and the levee for the canal broke on the eastern side. This means that barring any broken windows, and since I'm on the second floor, my house should be okay. This is also hoping that no one has broken in and looted my home. More importantly, I'm ok and the rest of the people I know in New Orleans are ok, so the material stuff is just secondary.

My heart does go out to the people I've seen on CNN like the rest of you, the people with no means to escape like I did. In the wake of this water catastrophe, though, a spotlight has been shone on a great hypocrisy of America: we only seem to care about the poor when we just can't ignore them anymore, when the circumstances make our normally turned eyes inhumane and when we are forced to make up for our past transgressions with hyperbole. We advertise with great fanfare and relish our deepest commitments to helping those less fortunate, we donate, we give supplies and time and it's needed and wonderful and helps. In these situations, I know the sincerity of the giving doesn't matter because it's simply people in need getting help. But still, I'm skeptical to applaud those helping when I want to know why the people they're helping had to get wet, drenched, and surrounded by lots of wind in order for them to show their care with tangible help. All those people at the Superdome were poor 7 days ago, had nothing 7 days ago, dealt with rape, homicide, theft 7 days ago, but no one cared then. It's only now, when their desperate situations are impossible to ignore because they're floating in the streets and insanely robbing Walmart that we reach out.

Please do reach out, help, that's great. But when the water has receded and you're able to go about your daily lives without being reminded by CNN that there are people starving and homeless, help more - that's when I'll applaud and know the world really does care.

Amid disaster, we still have the right to rant, right? :)

I flew into Ft. Lauderdale from Houston last night, where I'll be staying with my parents until Wednesday. Sept 7 I'm flying to the Netherlands to begin my previously-scheduled 6 week training course that will acquaint me with the ins-and-outs of the business. This means that I won't be able to return to my house in LA until late October, if even then -- hopefully the airport will be open by then. Since there's not much for me to do here, anyway, I'm kind of glad for this brief repreive, for something to do other than worry and wonder.

I'm going to try to keep this updated, and would like to sit down and process everything Katrina-related tonight or tomorrow... it still hasn't sunk in quite what's happened since I've been living a whirlwind of half-priced Astro's games, free Coldstone (it's amazing what you get for being a refugee in Houston), and games and games of shufflecock that make it feel like I just took a week's vacation in the most freeway-laced city in the world....Plus, I just watched The Notebook with my mom (I read the book, too) and it reminded me that everyone has a tragedy in their life, some great, epic moment that defines a transition or entire lifetime. I haven't figured out what mine is, if it's even happened yet. I'm sure that for some people, this past week will be their great defining tragedy. There's always sweetness in the resolution of a tragedy, though, and I just hope that my hurricane-hit brethren will be able to find that sweetness sooner rather than later. And I hope I'll be able to help when I return, in a way that might really matter. ...Ahh, another great confusion in my mind about the value of the different types of help and why it matters - you give money and it doesn't change your life, you don't really have to think about the sadness of the people you're "helping" but if it does help them, does it matter? Or to truly help and feel like you've helped, do you have to feel some measure of sadness or forfeit, too, some type of hands on help? Do you have to do it for some "right" reason .... Plus, thoughts on the way friendships and human relationships are effected by disasters and why.....Not to mention, do you think you can only have one great love in your life? And like tragedy, is there any way other than retrospect to know it?

Well, for now I'm dry and though slightly stressed about the next few months of my life, excited about the challenges they will bring and the landscape for memories they'll provide. Thank you again, friends, for expressing your caring. I'm already looking forward to seeing you Atl-ians at homecoming (provided I can fly out of New Orleans then).