i tore through and finished marquez’s “chronicle of a death foretold” in one night and one morning. if i could get paid to lay in bed until noon reading books, i would be a happy, happy woman.

perhaps i read the book too fast, because i still don’t know who took the honor of angela vicario. i’m thinking that maybe it was revealed but my eyes skipped right over it. or i was too busy saying the name cristo bedoya outloud to myself over and over again.

to avoid any black, pouty nights tonight i am going shopping. plus i’ll be getting my hair cut, because i am tired of looking like a mushroom. i could really get used to this lifestyle.

now. . . if i only had someone fix me some breakfast.