Steve and I saw Hotel Rwanda today. That was all kinds of depressing, mostly because it was true. Jeez.

I don't want to go back to school on Sunday.

I bought four books today, three of which are memoirs from girls that were pretty messed up growing up (one alcoholic from the age of 13, one obsessive-compulsive, and one clinically depressed). The other book is fiction, but it's about a guy with Asperger's. So I guess we see a trend of mental illness in my preferred reading (see also: Augusten Burroughs, David Sedaris). The fiction book that I picked up is The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. My mom was listening to it on tape when she came to pick me up a few weeks ago, so I heard a good 2 hours of the middle of the story. We'll see how the rest is.

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