My sleep schedule’s slightly whacked. I need to be setting my alarm for half an hour earlier, or something, because when 6am rolls around I’m deep in REM sleep and boy, there is just no waking up. Staying up late is easy, though. Grah. Tired.

I ended up walking on Friday after all, a total of 6 miles, the longer leg of which I did with my MP3 player, which made it a great deal less boring. I didn’t get as much walking done on the actual weekend days as I’d hoped to, but I managed 2 miles a day both days, which is better than I’ve done recently, so *waves a little flag* go me. :)

Friday, let’s see. We watched Stargate: Atlantis, which I didn’t think was very good. It’s very much a first season show, without any of the strengths of the show it’s being spun off from. I think they recast Dr. Elizabeth Weir because they wanted somebody whose physical look was tougher — she looks like Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley. I’ll give it a bit of a chance, because I really like the scientist character they’ve taken from the original series and I’m hoping we’ll get a fair bit of him. Won’t be enough for me, I’m sure, but I’ll watch it for a while and see.

Saturday I finished reading Kathleen Anne Googan’s The Bones of Time, which was *much* more readable than her first book, Queen City Jazz, which I felt failed entirely to live up to its wonderful title. No, not entirely. It was just badly paced. Interesting ideas, dull implementation. But BONES OF TIME was much more readable, and I believe I’ll look for some more of her books now.

*yawn* I supposed it’d be wrong to go back to bed, huh…

Then we went and bought me an Audi.

1990, 111K miles, supposed to get 18MPG in the city. Cool, huh? :) (Next time, Ted said, does that mean we have to get an Innie? Well, I said, maybe a *Mini*…!)

We went to I, Robot Saturday night, and enjoyed it lots.

ARGH, STUPID PUKING ZILLI.

*mutter* Where was I. Oh yes, I, Robot. I’m going to have to read the book/short story/whatever now, as it’s easier to be forgiving of what they did with the movie if I haven’t read the story beforehand (although to my amusement it did say, “Suggested by Issac Asimov’s I, ROBOT,” rather than ‘based on’ or ‘inspired by’). Anyway, I enjoyed it quite a lot.

And yesterday we watched the other movies we’d rented, Intolerable Cruelty and The Cooler, the former of which was mildly amusing and the latter of which was not a very happy movie, although it ended happily. Sort of. There was some violence in it which I was not prepared for. Blick. :P

And then we went to Mom and Dad’s for dinner, where 1. Mom had made STUNNINGLY good orange marmalade, and 2. we got off on topics of silliness, such as the peculiar game we used to play when it was time to go to bed. Deirdre and I had bedrooms across from one another’s, and there was a very short hall between them. Dad would stand between our two rooms and point at one of us, either me or Deirdre or himself, and for each point we would recite one word of the Pledge of Allegiance. And the purpose of this was to do it as fast as possible and to try to make us mess up, and sometimes he would point at himself and forget to say the words, and sometimes he would psych us out and we would get more or fewer words than expected, and we always ended it with, “And justice for Paul,” because Deirdre thought that’s what it was, because Mom and Dad had a friend in politics whose name was Paul and she knew that and so it made some sort of sense. And we would laugh and shriek and get all wound up, which I never realized until last night, just how wound up Dad got us right before we were supposed to go to sleep. Bad, bad Daddy! *laugh*

We would also tell stories of Traebur, the 9-inch elephant. I don’t remember the Traebur stories very well, except he was always off having adventures, and he would usually pause during one of his adventures to have a fizzy drink, which he would drink through his trunk, which always made him sneeze. He had a car, which was difficult to drive, because he was, after all, only 9 inches, tall, but he also had a friend who helped him drive the car. And whenever Dad would stall in the story, Deirdre or I would yell out what we thought should happen, and thus the Traebur stories proceeded. :)

So I said, “No WONDER we read in bed,” or in my case by getting out of bed and reading by the hall light, “since we were ALL WORKED UP instead of ready to go to sleep!” I said that in the summer I used to just prop my windowshade open (I had a bunkbed by the window; I believe I got it moved there so that I could, in fact, read by the window light in the summertime), and that I used to cleverly hide my books under my pillow. Which was all well and fine, except for when I was re-reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, and I had like five of them stuck below my pillow, and Dad came to put me to bed one night and I stretched out and stuck my arm under the pillow and a veritable rain of books fell to the floor. I was HORRIFIED. MORTIFIED. TERRIFIED. And Dad was VERY STERN and I was SURE he was going to JUST KILL ME. I laughed so hard telling this story to my parents that when I came home I was exhausted and had to go right to bed.

The End. :)

miles to Lothlorien: 132