Yesterday, I conquered a mountain. Or, more precisely: I ran halfway up a mountain, heaved my chest, and then proceeded to walk the rest of the three or four mile jaunt up the path. The run down — oh man, the run down — was better. There was less exertion, the feel of rocks kneading into my feet and dirt picking up in my wake, as I weaved through slightly-annoyed hikers trudging up the pathway. Afterwards, I looked back, and wondered why I did it in the first place. Exercise? Boredom? Great weather? I don’t know, but I did it in 25 minutes. (Let me add that to my app.)
Today, I read this. The actual title includes the quote: “There are so many people without legs.” My Facebook feed is a list of “thinks” right now. “Think about giving to the Red Cross.” “Think about other countries where this happens often.” “Think about your family tonight.” I don’t know what to think. I’d rather not think about it. Somebody, somewhere, was finishing there first marathon, and now they don’t have legs anymore? Yeah, no. It’s not fair. It’s absolutely not fair.
Daniel Day-Lewis as Michelle Obama. BeLIEve it.
I get it, Academy. You like musicals. You like people dancing and doing the splits and cartwheels and all sorts of acrobatic shit. Rousing spectacles of glitz and glamour. If somebody says, “Song,” during the Oscars, you better believe that the orchestra has their violin bows and cymbals ready. And Norah Jones or Barbara Streisand are lying in wait with their microphones shuddering in their hands, before they pop onto the stage in a hail of glitter to the greetings of soft applause. I get it.
I cried when Pi said, “We’re dying, Richard Parker!” My mom was like, “Whatever. When does this end so I can go home and watch NCIS reruns?”