So we watched something today in U.S. History. It was a twilight episode in which a man that loves to read in a world that says, "PUT THE PAPER/BOOK/MAGAZINE DOWN!" is the only survivor of a nuclear bomb. He finally get's his peace and quite by finding a library with books to the hundreds of thousands! He even gets them catagorized by the years in which he will read which book! He sits down to read the first book of his now very large collection, and his reading glasses (which he needs to see everything else as well) fall off. And just as everyone suspects, they are shattered into oblivion. I felt so bad for the poor man, but couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

That really didn't have anything to do with anything, but then again, what does anything have to do with in the first place?

I need someone to talk to about books. I haven't really read one in a while, and think I may do that this summer. Anything good in mind?



In other news...I'm officially the president of next years Santana Christian Club. More about that later, as for now, I have to sleep. Or at least lie in bed for another hour until I finally drift off through the dream tunnel.