I've been reading Battleground Earth. Now, before you judge, let me explain! I bought the book at a used library book sale for 50 cents. I figured it would be a "coffee-table book"--an homage to the worst big-budget movie ever made. (Though I've never seen Hudson Hawk--apparently that's pretty awful, too. Discuss!) But I picked it up the other day, and I've been reading a few pages before I go to bed every night. It's an interesting story, actually, and it isn't poorly written--it must be better than those Dragonlance "novels" certain friends of mine read in high school. Plus it's about a thousand pages long, so I won't finish it anytime soon. And it's not boring, but it helps me fall asleep--and anything non-narcotic that helps me sleep is a GOOD THING. And despite what you might think, very little in the book is reminiscient of Scientology.

Had a good weekend. Mark came and we did some relaxing. Saturday we went to this duck pond, armed with half a loaf of wheat bread. (Apparently they eat that, too.) The first time Mark and I went to this particular park, I was in a particularly foul mood for some unknown reason. We walked around looking at the flowers and the shrubbery and stuff, and I was just despondent. But then Mark mentioned the ducks. "Ducks?" My head perked up, and I immediately turned into a five-year old who couldn't wait to see the ducks. They're mallard ducks, and some white geese and Canada geese are there right now, too. (I'm not sure which birds are year-round denizens of this particular pond.) So every weekend I'm in town, I'm going to make a point of stopping at this particular park, and feeding the ducks whatever bread is in my fridge. It's a small price to pay for a little bit of childlike joy...

Okay, I really need to get something done now...