The Crocodile Hunter is dead. He was stung in the heart by a stingray. I never watched his show, and I thought he was kind of a nut, but still, that’s a sad (and strange) way to go. His poor wife and children.
In completely unrelated news, this is the fifth day I’ve had a fever. The smallest bit of physical exertion completely wears me out. My throat hurts, my body aches, and I’m pretty much miserable. And now it’s even sadder because Stephen left this morning. I really really hope I don’t have mono.
Erin Mount 