“Did you hear about the shooting?” Please no.

I’ve been afraid to turn on my computer all weekend lest there be more bad news. (It helps that my computer also has one foot in the grave.) So imagine my relief tonight when I checked my email and found an offer of 60% off colon-hydrotherapy cleanses. Finally some good news! If I haven’t been able to wash off the foul odor of human tragedy in the shower, maybe I just haven’t been trying hard enough. And look! 530 have already been bought, so I’d better act fast.

In all seriousness, however, any day that doesn’t feature the question, “Did you hear about the shooting yesterday?” is a winner. I’m writing this on Sunday night at midnight. Motherf***ers better not mess this one up again. (Nothing like posting an obit to your laptop in the wake of a horrible  mass shooting that you’re oblivious to because of your new “write first, tweet later” rule. Might need to reconsider that one.)

First there was the Eaton Centre shooting that took place in the very same food court, in the very same part of the food court, that my family eats at. Colum heard about that one at school. Then there was the mob hit in Little Italy on the patio of an ice cream parlour that I used to go to. Then a block party just like the ones my husband used to attend gets shot up. And some guy shot his own brother just to top it all off. That’s just the hometown news.

Then some madman opens fire in a crowded movie theatre. A movie theatre just like the ones we have all been to. And we’re supposed to be scared of terrorists?! Because our run-of-the-mill crazy and disillusioned citizens are doing just fine thank you.

I don’t really have anything to say other than it gets a little harder each time to reassure the children that really, really they’re safe. It was just those other people, just a fluke occurrence, won’t ever happen to us. I’m here, so they’re safe. Right? Right?

I really just want to write about my new haircut and getting ready for the Blogher12 conference and maybe ask whether you think Mary’s old enough for cow’s milk while I’m away. I want to post some pictures of my kids riding their bikes and share my accidental vegetarian chili recipe. Can we just talk some more about moms who smoke pot? Please?

I’m Canadian. We’re not supposed to have to deal with gun violence. I say that not because I feel morally superior. I say that because I feel safer. It’s true. Crossing over from Seattle or Detroit or Buffalo or some little quaint Maine township, it doesn’t really matter, I always feel safer on my home soil. (That was a lie. Nobody is scared in Maine.) So where are all these guns coming from? And how can people still defend the right of a person to walk into a Kmart and buy an automated killing machine?

I just don’t get it.

But, here, read this instead. Jason Alexander does an anti-gun rant so much better than I do.