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Recap of yesterday.

Slept for long time. Woke up. Went to Mom's. Started laundry. Chaperoned Al, who was home sick, when his girlfriend came over. Cleaned. Cooked dinner, since no one came home until almost six. Fought with the clothes dryer. Lost. Lost myself in the glories of satellite. The highlight was some skating thing, not Olympics, in which Scott Hamilton skated to the aria from the marriage of figaro. At least, I think that's what it was. But the way he skated, the body language, put entirely different connotations on the song. It was the one where he says "figaro" over and over, but the way he acted, it was like, "oh, yeah. You want some of this? You want a peice of Figaro?", which was not what the aria's about. Once I figured out what was making my skin crawl, it was pretty funny. Especially because all of the other skaters used stupid pop and rock anthems, and the one and only American had something classical. Heh. Color me geek.

Another nice thing was that the Insider came in the mail, and it came with a poster-sized map of the galaxy, with all the planets from the movies and the books. Also included new short story by Aaron Allston. Happiness. Must wait for next issue to find out about Vong, but not a bad start.

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