ramblings...

it took me the entire day to realize that i knew marla ruzicka. she was killed on saturday in iraq, an unforseen casualty of a suicide bomber.

the organization i work for gave her ngo, CIVIC, most of its funding. she was based in our NY office for a time this year, and we ran into each other at a couple of happy hours. she struck me as a bubbly, possibly bipolar, but genuinely nice person. i spent a chunk of time today reading about her, and the things she did with her life are really incredible. i mean, really really incredible. i'm at a loss for words at her dedication.

having spent the past few years of her life pushing for compensation for civilian casualties of the war in iraq, i'm not sure how she'd feel about all this attention. four other people, including her iraqi coworker, were also killed today. but her name is the only name you see in the headlines. because she was pretty. and American. and great.

this has left me very confused. why did the headlines not matter to me until i realized that i'd met her? why does her death mean more to me than the deaths of the thousands of civilians in iraq? is it because i know her name? is it because i know her face? because i heard her laugh? does this make me a bad person? am i going to forget about this tomorrow? would that make me a bad person? why are all these questions about me? i'm still alive, remember.

death is so final. i think i'm starting to understand why people need to believe in a god.