Childhood, Harry Potter and Ebola

I went running this morning to a local park. I like to watch the ducks and their little ducklings paddling around while I run the track. I like the family atmosphere—there’s always children playing or old couples walking their yappy little dogs. Today there was a group of little kids being herded around the track. It was very cute to listen to their conversations. It’s like another world, that magical one we all used to live in. I remember having those conversations. They were very, very serious of course. I also remember the laps we had to run in P.E., all the way around the playground. It seemed so far back then; I wonder how tiny it would be if I came back. I wonder how small the classrooms would look, how little the desks would be, how narrow the hallways would appear. I’m glad I remember my childhood as well as I do. I remember the conversations, the feelings, the friends, the thoughts. I still have diaries from my elementary days—absolutely hilarious stuff. My priorities were so different.

Harry Potter. Sometimes I wonder about my stubbornness. Why did I never read those silly books? The truth is that I don’t like to be a part of the norm. Everybody has read those books. I want to read special books, books no one has read, unique books. How stupid is that? It’s pretty dumb, I agree, but it’s still the truth. I’m not very attracted to the popular. I like to read books that I discover on my own, not ones that are suggested or insisted upon. My sister and I will be listening to some of them on our road trip to Illinois, so it’s going to happen eventually. I know the books are probably fabulous, but I just can’t bring myself to go for it.

I’m currently reading The Hot Zone. Talk about freaky. It describes in detail Level 4 hot viruses—Ebola Zaire, for example: 9 out of 10 infected people die. Can you imagine what something like that could do to the world?! I have to say, this sort of thing fascinates me. The effects, the spread, the containment, the research: all very interesting. I have so much respect for the people who work with these types of things. It must take a lot of guts.

Goodness—okay, random. Bye.