It was a normal school day for me in Montgomery County, Maryland in October 2002. I walked into computer class and took a seat. Our teacher instructed us to open our web browser and go to Washington Post's main page. There in bold font was the headline about the first of what would be many sniper attacks in my hometown in the D.C Metropolitan Area; I was 10-years-old.

By the time I was 10 and within a year, I had experienced the 9/11 and the sniper attacks--all close to home.

Fast forward about 14-years later to last Saturday. I'm sitting at my desk in my office in Chelsea when I see on Twitter that there was an explosion from a pressure cooker on 23rd St and 6th Ave. It was the closest I had been to a terror attack since the D.C. Sniper and as a surprise to me, I wasn't afraid.

My first thought was to text my parents to tell them I'm safe. After that, I felt concern for anyone who was injured. Finally, I wondered if restaurants would still deliver to my office because I was really hungry.

Yes, a bomb exploded and one of my first thoughts was food.

I know it sounds ridiculous and I know there are people living in war zones in other places in the world, but I think my train of thoughts is pretty telling of our society's reaction to terror attacks in the U.S. because of its frequency.

It shows that we feel empathetic towards our family and strangers. In fact, the next day, employees from a nearby Starbucks passed out free cups of coffee to police officers in the area.

I'm well aware that wondering if restaurants could still deliver is selfish, but I think it reflects the idea that we are accustomed to carry on in spite of fear.

When I stepped outside my office, the scene looked like it would any other Saturday night but with a greater law enforcement presence. In my cab ride home I saw people out and about, in line for clubs and putting down their names for reservations at restaurants; it's as if nothing happened. Sure, people on the streets talked about the explosions and expressed concern, but they didn't cower in fear or let it alter their plans for the night.

I've only lived in NYC for six months and I'm not sure if I've received the city's blessing to call myself a New Yorker but on Saturday I witnessed first hand the strength and composure of New Yorkers; which maybe is a reflection of the Americans.

While the slogan "Keep Calm and Carry On" originated in England, I think Americans practice it quite well.