Who News

I don't even know where to begin. First, it was just about poor people and how to give aid to them. They talked about poverty in a way I haven't thought about it, so I am interested in reading the book. Surely, just one more book on how to cure world hunger and disease; I am not so naive, just interested. I mean it's the dream for us wealthy white people to go into third world countries and save lives, because poverty does not exist in our own backyard. We (as if I'm rich), but comparatively, I might as well have Franklins blowin' out of my pockets.

Then there are trash, southern trash who eat armadillo and have the chance of getting leprosy. I mean, really people? 1. I thought they were purely roadkill that made me want to gag. 2) I thought leprosy was lost once the apostasy hit. Who knew 50-80 people get it from eating armadillo. Who knew. And if that's not disturbing let's read about how straight up humans allow Satan to take over their soul: "Plot to Kill Teen"

Let's add a few tornadoes and life shattering earthquakes and call it the Second Coming. I shouldn't make light of devastation; I really don't mean to. However, I don't see it getting easier. Disclaimer: the righteous need not fear.

So in other news, Kayla went on a run today.

She also discovered mapmyrun.com (and how awesome it is to talk in third person), which is marvelous. However, not until after my 25 minute run/10 minute walk did I realize that I got a meager 2.15 miles. A few months ago I did 6 miles, but I wonder if that was 2 hours and I just had no idea. Sigh. I'll let you know how it continues on; it has to go up from here. I mean I am the most pathetic runner; I can raise my hand no problem. The thing is, I immediately feel like I haven't had water for days and my lips might as well kiss the dessert sun. I feel obligated to tell my lungs to breathe, I've got snot draining from my sinuses; my right leg all of a sudden seems significantly longer; my side cramps from dehydration and then bad posture comes; I can barely see at night without my glasses; my ankles swell because the shoes I wore back in my sophomore year of high school are pathetic (when I was a size 2 and hated running because I wanted boobs so bad); I mean really, pity me yet? Hey, it takes a lot to get this pathetic. Here is the song: Marching On

However, put me in the ghetto where I fear I'll get raped or get a dog barking, and I won't stop running. I just tell myself I'm fat (where did these stretch marks come from!) and that awesome self esteem just boosts up my energy levels. So ya know, that's cool. Oh hey summer - it's going to be awesome.

Just for the record babe, I'm not depressed. And I'm actually not that pathetic. I embellish in slight exaggeration from time to time in the art of story telling.