, a fantastic writer and all around swell person, asked her readers where they were the day they found out Osama Bin Laden had fallen. I couldn't come up with an immediate answer. I had no strong impression in regards to the news. Then, I remembered why.

What follows is what I do remember. I decided not to post it on her journal for fear of pulling it too far off topic...

Last year, I was staying with a friend in a house without power, in a city under curfew to discourage looting. We were living on whatever food could be grilled out doors or could fit in a small cooler. Luckily the local Walmart brought in a generator so at least you could buy a few things, but it was rationed out. They would only stay open for so long and allow families to take so much. Ice was at a premium. I was sleeping a lot. There wasn't much else to do.

A couple of days previous, my sister had told me there also wasn't a home, or even a forest, to come back to.

I'll be honest, when I heard the news, I really couldn't care less. Neither could my sister. When she heard the news and replied with a "so what" she was declared unpatriotic. She ignored the comment and went to go scavenge what was left of her bedroom.

I'm glad that this event brought closure to people. I'm glad that a dangerous man was brought to some sort of justice. But compared to what was lost and endured during a particularly brutal spring in 2011, it just didn't really register with my family.