Definitely made up for getting up early yesterday by staying in bed past noon.

Edited Vietnam War lesson plan.

Finally got Netflix out of the house (same DVDs for 3 months = bad use of $$$).

I can’t seem to remember most of the afternoon. I watched most of Mansfield Park, then most of Peyton Place, and all of The Lady from Shanghai and A Kiss Before Dying (the 1956 version). Then I switched to Hercule Poirot.

To be honest, I couldn’t remember most of that. Fortunately TV listings are online so I was able to reconstruct my day.

Oh, and in addition to apparently killing a fan, I began a new book, Life in the Fat Lane. I’m a good number of pages in, so I’ll probably keep going, but rather than hearing about a beauty queen who gains weight, I think I’d rather read a real book from the fat girl’s perspective (in this case, it’s Patty Asher). I just don’t need to hear that beauty queens have a hard time. It’s not that I’m indifferent to the plight of the beauty queen and this girl’s struggles; but it doesn’t feel new to me. I guess the fat girls’ stories are too despressing. No one would want to read about fat girls when there are Princess Diaries and Gossip Girls to read about.

I have been eating a quesadilla while writing this, and the remainder looks like the state of Wisconsin. I do not know what this means other than that I shouldn’t be eating quesadilla (or much else).