I woke up this morning to the thought, "I have to get up and cover the storage room window with cardboard or it's going to bleach out our Halloween costumes."  Now I can't get back to sleep.  I can't remember what I was dreaming about but it must have been fucking boring.

Yesterday we were sitting on the futon just after he woke up and he said he had a dream.  He had two buttons on his neck that you could press and his head would come off.  His body could move without his head and he could breath and talk and blink without his body.  However, when he tried to put his head back on something was wrong.  It wasn't fitting correctly onto his neck and he was having trouble breathing so he had to take it back off again.  Immediately after some scientists came and took him away into a dark room and he woke up.

I didn't really think about it until just now but his dream really strikes a cord with me.  When I hate myself like this I kind of just want to make entries about him.

He's getting more attractive every day.  His face is slowly aging in such a way that he reminds me of Harrison Ford in Star Wars.  I would strip and beg for the Harrison Ford in Star Wars.  And his body is so perfectly sculpted.  Whenever I read manga and angels are drawn with nothing but a few rags hanging from their pelvises, that's what he looks like.  Each night when he stands in the doorway of our bedroom and all the lights are off except for the bathroom so he can take a shower, his shadowy profile is the most wonderful thing I could imagine.  His shoulders are so broad and his hips don't lie and I couldn't think of a better image to go to sleep with.

Yesterday night he was working out naked in the living room and I couldn't tear my eyes away.  I can never tear my eyes away when his body is on display like that.  I love watching him do sit ups and work out his toned back muscles, but the most enjoyable sight is when he does leg lifts and I can see all his naughtiest parts at the same time.  For me, the only thing that trumps a man's genitals is a fabulous set of luscious breasts.  And of course we had sex.  I played with him too much before we actually started so I only came once before he came instead of four or five times, but I think that's more fair in the long run. He could tell I wanted more and kept it up even after he was finished.  I made him stop (reluctantly) so his cum wouldn't make a mess all over the bed and I went to take a shower.  I guess my foreplay was really exceptional because he was still hard and I let him come on me (again?!) while I was lathering myself with soap.  It was fantastic.

And I look at what I have written and I wonder what my problem is, but it has nothing to do with him.  The intimate relationship part of my life is perfect and I am without complaints or unfilled desires (except for a beautiful woman) in that respect.  I'm just so fucking afraid of the future.  I feel like all my decisions are so serious now that if I mess even a single one up I will have ruined my life.  But at the same time, can one ruin one's life if one is already on track for a Masters in Chemical Engineering even if one fails horribly come the qualifying exam in January?  I don't know, and I certainly don't intend to test the waters of ruination.  I'm just worried I won't have a choice in the matter.  I'm so afraid.

I grow increasingly frustrated with each passing minute.  I've been thinking a lot about the past, actually far too much about the past.  Hearing gun fire constantly for 75% of the time I've been awake the past two days certainly hasn't been helping either.  Left 4 Dead 2 is a lot more fun with the sound at a barely audible level.

I have so little free time.  I keep telling myself that it will get better and eventually I will have the time to pursue all my retardedly varied interests, but I just don't see it happening.  And even if it does, will I really be happy?  I remember having all the free time in the world in high school.  I spent entire 24 hour periods just playing video games, but I certainly wasn't happy.  I was lonely and fat.  I had the free time I wanted, but that still didn't make me happy.  And now I'm certainly not lonely and only 10 pounds fat, but I have no free time.  I don't particularly like thinking of my life as a series of variables and trying to change them independently to figure out what works...but I guess that's kind of the point I'm trying to make.  I've tried either/or, but I'd really like to try both.

Perhaps I'm suffering from lingering burn out on course work from senior year as an undergraduate.  The homework was long, hard and extremely mind numbing.  Not so surprisingly, homework doesn't change that much in graduate school.  I should qualify that by saying that hard becomes unnecessarily hard.  I get so frustrated by the long hours I spend working toward the wrong solution or using the wrong approach that I've almost lost sight of any "light at the end of the tunnel" that I might have previously found solace in.

And that brings me back to thinking about the past.  Did I make a mistake?  Instead of focusing on research and getting my PhD, should I instead have been working toward an industrial "turn this nob to here and make sure this dial never goes past this mark" job?  Something that I could have left behind when I went home each evening?  Now I'm on track to becoming a professor.  From my experience thus far, research professors at this university have no free time.  One actually commented that he wished he had more time with his children because he almost never left his office and when he did he was traveling.  That sounds like the shittiest thing I could possibly think of.  We're considering children of our own once we purchase our first real house and have the space for such things and I don't want to be the mom who is never home with her house husband raising the children that barely remember her voice sometimes.  That would be horrible.

I guess I'm just jittery about the future.  For the first time in my life everything seems out of focus.  I don't know where I'm going and I don't know what I need to do to get there.  I can't see my path.  My lack of motivation clouds all the positive aspects of my life and causes me to focus on my slowly developing negativity.  I couldn't decide how to end this entry, so my husband suggested I end it by hugging him.  I did and it made me feel fantastic.  Everyone should have someone like him in their life because it's amazing.

I don't even know how to feel right now.  I'm reasonably confused about a lot of things and I haven't been able to focus for the last week.  I remember thinking at one point that if I was going to be sick, the least I could do was throw up so that I would be skinnier when the sickness passed.  What a horrible thought, but I was the one who thought it so I can't really defend myself.  It makes me nervous when things like that can appear in my head.  I don't want to have the capability to think that way.

In some ways I hate breaks.   I hate being given something that by no means lives up to its name.  A break in college never really is a true "break" in the way that I think of them.  It is an opportunity for your professors to give large assignments and then make the assumption that instead of enjoying your break you really wanted to work feverishly to complete said assignments.  It's frustrating.  Honestly I would rather skip Thanksgiving as a holiday and end the semester a week sooner.  At least then I would understand my responsibilities, when they start, when they end, and when I can finally relax, because really a break during which I have to work is just an unnecessary extension of stressful activity for which I was not initially prepared.  And that is utter bullshit.

I'm feeling really angry this evening.  Maybe it stems from eating way too much today or having to throw out food or accomplishing nothing or talking to the biggest whiner in existence because I can't tear myself away from him.  Maybe it's all that combined.  I don't know.  I keep telling myself that tomorrow will be the start to the rest of my life, but it never really is.  In fact, some days I feel like I'm just wasting my life fruitlessly and it's completely devoid of meaning.  I feel like that a lot, actually.  All the keytars and breakdancing and exciting parties in the world couldn't really keep me from feeling like that.

But every so often, when I see his face and he smiles at me...well, I remember why I didn't kill myself back in undergrad.

My hair is at the perfect length.  I make to myself this promise.  I will go out, dressed androgynously, and find a few attractive females to court.  I'm tired of making excuses and having too much to do.  The next weekend marks the beginning of my Thanksgiving break and there is absolutely no reason not to indulge myself in the pursuit of some enjoyable female company. 

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I almost always loath menstruation.  Everything about it is disgusting, annoying or painful.  It hinders every daily activity in some way or another.  However, it does lead to some unique opportunities that I would normally not have access to.  Don't read the rest of  this section if you don't like reading about other people's sexual escapades.  I'll preface this by saying that I give terrible blow jobs because I have a tiny mouth, so those aren't an option.  Instead, I sometimes find myself with a beautiful and extremely erotic young man exposing himself to me and having only my hands with which to satisfy him.  As a gay man inside a woman's body, I find myself alarmingly excited by touching his ass and even more by the noises he makes when I do so.  And I love to watch him jerk himself off.  And I can't help myself but lick his nipples as well.  It's probably my favorite situation, him writhing with pleasure as I touch all his most sensitive areas and watch him stroking himself at the same time, but I so rarely get to experience it since normal penetrative sex is what we are normally engage in.  Man, gay guys get the hottest sex.  I'm so jealous that I don't have a giant penis that I can penetrate him with instead of my finger.  *sigh*  At least I have nice breasts.  That's my consolation I guess.

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I've come to an interesting conclusion from discussions with my best female friend and my husband yesterday.  I don't understand one night stands.  I could never feel attracted or comfortable enough with someone to have sex with them the first time I ever set eyes on them.  What's more, if they share too much information with me during this first meeting I become even less attracted to them rather than moreso.  I want first meetings to be an exchange of useless pleasantries, names, likes and dislikes in movies, favorite pastimes, etc.  I have no interest in past relationships, mental problems, family concerns, health problems, strange fetishes, or anything like that when I first meet someone.  As I've often mentioned, I fall deeply in love with all of my friends, but never with complete strangers.  I can certainly be intrigued by you as I pass you on the sidewalk and perhaps I will even turn my head to watch you as you walk away for a moment, but does this mean that I want to know your deepest, darkest secrets during this chance encounter?  Absolutely not.  I want to get to know you in a casual and friendly manner, slowly building enough confidence in your sanity to share more of myself with you. 

Perhaps this is why I've never met anyone I've gotten to know on the internet in person.  Sorry, but no one's internet presence is enough of an indicator of actual personality to warrant any kind of real trust or association.  Also, we are all so exposed here, sharing our thoughts and secrets with others.  Every subscription violates the principles I desire from a first meeting.  I know too much about you.  You become an imaginary character, a crazed animal in a small cage of an internet window.  Of course, I'm sure there are exceptions, people I could become wonderful friends with eventually, but most of us would probably find that the entries we've read of one another's have built up quite a hype and disappointment would ensue, disappointment stemming from the impersonal yet deeply intimate nature of internet communication.

But perhaps I'm being too harsh.  Perhaps never contacting my internet acquaintances is a poor choice and I'm missing out on several wonderful friendships or even intimate relationships because of it.  I suppose sometimes I'm intrigued by the notion, but I'm intrigued by almost everything in life, including abandoned chewing gum.

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I keep looking back and forth nervously.  My skin is tingling.  My head feels light.  It's staring up at me like it always is mocking me, showing me what I haven't accomplished.  I can't focus.  The entire world is laughing at me and the torment is unbearable.  I've failed myself so many times over the last few days, weeks, months.  Everything constantly seems to be falling apart around me, as though I were standing at the top of a crumbling tower of stone.  Each day the tower becomes a bit more rickety and I am left with the frightening realization that unless I can somehow rebuild the foundations from atop my perch I won't be standing much longer.

I haven't taken to the learning process in graduate school like I expected to.  The end of every lecture period seems almost like a dream, as though I had suddenly and unexpectedly been pulled very far from a picture I had only been casually glancing at and then asked to remember even the most insignificant detail of the piece.  I can't recall feeling like this previously.  As an undergraduate, sometimes the course work was labor intensive, but it was never so...hard to grasp perhaps?  Even more, I feel like I'm a tiny sponge swimming in a giant sea of information and that there is no possible way to experience and absorb it all.  I try to console myself with factual information, like my taking five courses rather than four, or other students getting similarly dismal grades to my own, but nothing really calms me down.  I don't particularly care if I'm doing about as well as everyone else.  If doing well entails learning less that a quarter of the material completely and about fifty percent of it poorly, that just doesn't make sense to me.  The only real comfort I have is that within the next year I will take the finals for the last courses I will ever have to take, but I am a person who hates to wish away life and consequently become frustrated by thoughts of, "Oh, how I wish it was May so I could be done with all of this and move on to my research," because it's really just an indication of my lack of motivation to truly learn anything.  But perhaps I would be more excited if I didn't feel so drowned in information.  I can't decide if this is all a function of the teaching style of research professors or if I have somehow changed in the last few months.  Either way, I almost constantly feel inadequate.

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I ate 7/9 of a pan of brownies today.  Why can't I stress eat vegetables?  Consuming the four cups of quinoa tabouleh that are in the fridge would have been much better for me.  Somehow I've been stuck in this rut at around 120 pounds.  I vacillate between 124 and 116 depending on what disgusting or healthy habits I am practicing at the time.  The stresses of graduate school often get the best of me, frightening me and causing me to eat as much as I can for no reason.  Other times I am feeling empowered and excited about my life and I work out and eat only what my body needs to continue to build muscle and lose fat.  Like any female that I've ever know, my happiness is often directly correlated with my weight and appearance.  It's an awful trait, but unavoidable.  Right now with all those delicious but horribly unhealthy brownies in my stomach I feel like I weight 300 pounds and everyone is going to see when I got to class tomorrow and think about what a fat ass I am and blah blah blah.  I hate feeling like this.  It's stupid and pointless because, of course, I only weigh 120 pounds and I look completely acceptable, but even though I just typed it and know it to be factual at the same time it sounds like rubbish and I can't believe it.  It's a terrible paradox within my mind and I hate it.

What makes it even worse is that I went running with some other graduate students on Saturday morning and almost immediately got a stitch in my side.  We were supposed to run SEVEN MILES together and I could barely make three.  I was so embarrassed that I cried later when I was alone in the shower.  Again, I know it to be factual that running three miles with a stitch in one's side is quite an accomplishment, but I can't believe that statement and end up kicking myself over and over for not finishing the run.  This morning I woke up and worked out immediately to try and console myself...but then I ate a shitload of brownies while thinking of all the homework I have not yet completed and ruined any positive improvement in my mood that I had accomplished.

Why can't I just be happy?  I hate myself so much right now.  It's raining and dark and I just want to go run for miles and miles and miles and scream and cry and hide from everyone in the cloak of the night and stars.  Forgive me.

It's frustrating sometimes when I read my recent entries.  They don't have the feeling and complete lack of sensibility that my older posts have.  They don't have the fire and passion for my own thoughts and desires.  I read them and they are basically just little stories about my life that someone could surmise just by observing me.  That's not what I want this blog to be.  I always intended it to be a place for my deepest thoughts and secrets, the things that would make people uncomfortable to hear me say out loud to them in polite conversations.  I intended this blog to be about sex and desire and hopes and dreams and soft little sweetnesses that lay buried within my mind.  I never intended to write an autobiography.

Being busy brings out that tendency in me.  I have less time to sit and think and contemplate and explore my own mind and consequently I write the things that come more easily, the little stupid things like what silly party I went to or what homework I'm working on.  But I won't care about that in 20 years.  I'll want to read what I was thinking and feeling, all the fleeting moments of discord and elaborate sexual thoughts and revelry in understanding if only for a few seconds.  Those are the things that I want to chronologically catalog.  Those are the things I want to remember.  Those are the things that make me more than a cold logical automaton.

I promise to get back to it.  I promise to write like I used to.  I promise to let everything out in all its glory!  I promise myself more than anyone else.

This weekend was absolutely fabulous. 

Friday ended in a fantastic belated ChBE Halloween party.  Prior to the party, all of us first years met at one of the residence halls on campus and made ourselves up like zombies with face paint, fake blood and ripped clothing that we purchased at Goodwill specifically to zombify.  We looked so silly and when we arrived at the party everyone that it was so cute that we had come as a giant group.  I think our camaraderie surprises people since it doesn't seem like any of the other years of graduate students are so close with one another anymore.  I wonder if our delight in each others' company will soon dwindle as well.  I certainly hope not.  It's the only thing keeping me going sometimes.  Anyway, there was lots of food and booze and we watched Evil Dead and Blood Dinner and a bucket of gin, ice and citrus was created.  You drank from the bucket using turkey basters and it was kind of hilarious.  We had a lot of fun.

Saturday was another great day.  It started with a trip to the last day of the farmers' market in town followed by a six mile run with three other first years.  They are training for a marathon and I didn't actually know that before I agreed to come running with them.  I haven't ever really run for exercise and the fastest mile I ever had was around 10 minutes...so a six mile run was a little worrying.  Perhaps one could blame it on the DDR, but I didn't have to take a walking break until we had run about three miles.  I guess I'm quite a bit more in shape than I previously thought.  Watching my shadow as I ran, sweaty and tired, along the streets of Urbana made me feel strangely sexy.  I've never run outside like that before.  In fact, I've always insulted people for doing so, saying that they could just as easily (and more safely) run inside a recreation center or something of the sort, but after having experienced it I guess I understand why running six miles around the same quarter mile of indoor track might be a little boring and annoying.

Later Saturday evening I went over to the residence halls and got dressed up for a Diwali celebration in which one of our classmates was performing.  She had invited us all and even provided a sari for me to wear.  After having it wrapped and carefully folded around me I looked amazing!  Saris are quite flattering to the female figure if you've never worn one.  Now I want to go and buy my own so I can wear it every day!  We rushed over to the event and waited in line for nearly half an hour for the food, but it was worth it.  We sat down and got ready to watch everything.  My favorite part of the show was not any of the dances, or even the dance of my classmate (even though she did an amazing job), but instead a single statement by one of the presenters.  It was about religion, and how no one is wrong because we all have faith.  I think that is just amazing.  I wish more people thought that way!  I mean, if you work your whole life trying to impress and work toward the goals of a higher power that you have come to respect and believe in...well, how could that higher power be disappointed even if you didn't get it exactly right?  You were still trying, giving your all for your faith.  No one should be eternally damned for trying to live a good life, regardless of what higher power they did it for.  That's what I have always believed.  I accept that I will probably never know anything about the creation of this universe or what higher power is behind it all, but I can be thankful for all the things I have been given throughout life, even if I don't know exactly who to thank, and I can continue to work hard to make myself and other people happy in life.  I went home that night in a wonderful mood and extremely thankful for all the new things I'd been able to experience.

I woke up Sunday with the desire to sit around strong within me.  I lazed about for the first part of the day expecting to work out around noon.  Unfortunately I missed a phone call that told me when and where the work out was happening because my phone was on vibrate from the Diwali celebration on Saturday.  It was nice to just spend the day sitting around, though.  I checked my email and found that my professor had finally edited my personal statement...and boy did he edit it.  Everything was all wrong and I spent a good majority of the day working on it.  At lunch my husband woke up and I cooked some tilapia for him which was a nice break from the NSF stuff.  At about 6 PM we headed over to one of the first year's apartments to make a whole shit ton of pork dumplings.  It was really fun and really delicious and it gave me an outlet with which to get rid of the massive amount of pie my grandmother had given us at our wedding.  Everyone loved the pecan and blueberry pies and I was happy to share them because my husband and I just can't eat two whole pies before they go bad.  We're not fatties like that.  Anyway, when we headed home I worked out for a bit and tried to get some wedding thank you letters finished.  I only got four done before discovering that I was out of stamps, so I'll have to go and buy some more before I can write to everyone.  *sigh*  I hate having to write thank you notes.  I would rather just not get gifts.

This week is going to be rather serious in its degree of difficulty, but the weekend was so nice that perhaps some of the good mood I have left over from the festivities will carry through all the hard work I will have to put in during the next few days.  Let's see...what all do I have to do?

1) Submit NSF application (after satisfactorily editing all statements). (11/12)
2) Complete Applied Mathematics homework. (11/11)
3) Complete Kinetics homework. (11/13)
4) Write my portion of a 10 page paper. (11/16)
5) Study for Applied Mathematics exam. (11/16)
6) Write a four page term paper (that I haven't even started on yet!). (11/17)
7) Complete Heat and Mass Transfer homework. (11/17)

And I am sure there is more that I am forgetting right now.  I hope I don't die.  Wish me luck.

My life has been a whirlwind of activity lately.

Saturday can't be described in words to the full extent of its perfection.  It was exactly how I wanted my wedding to be remembered.  The day was everything I had ever hoped for, not in the sense that I had planned my wedding since I was a little girl and blah blah blah, but in the sense that all the important people were there and the atmosphere of the gathering was so warm and comforting and Mike and I felt so loved and cared for that I cried when we went to bed and left everyone, saying we would meet up for goodbyes at 9 AM.  Over the course of the evening there was food and OpenITG and drinking games and lots and lots of chatting.  The food was fine and we did a wonderful job with the decorations and almost everyone came in costume aside from a few adults, but none of that really mattered.  What mattered and what made the day wonderful was seeing everyone, seeing their bright happy faces laughing and chatting and smiling.  I normally abhor hugs from people other than my sexual partners and family, but as everyone was saying goodbye in the early afternoon on Sunday I got so many hugs and didn't even bat an eye.  These people who I used to call friends, that's not what they are anymore.  They are my family.  Perhaps one could define it as "friends for life" or something similar, but as each person packed up and said goodbyes and left, I knew that I would see them again.  It was such a strange yet familiar and comforting feeling.  I have never felt so satisfied as I did Sunday morning.  I will hold onto that feeling for the rest of my life.

Sunday afternoon consisted of visiting my grandmother, being given too many pies and cakes and then being accused of alcoholism because she saw us drinking those Mike's Hard things.  I had three.  Hardly call to suggest I am an alcoholic.  I was relieved to finally get on the road and I know that my grandmother really appreciates our visits, but she's so manipulative and she creates problems where none previously existed and I'm not one to put up with such things, grandmother or no.  The drive home was relatively uneventful.  We stopped by my husband's home to visit his parents quickly before heading back to Illinois.  We were glad to be home and unpacked the car before slumping on the futon and relaxing.

We opened all the gifts when we got home after resting for a few moments.  Mostly money, some knives, and a really soft blanket, but one gift stood out.  It was possibly the most creative and thoughtful gift I have ever received for any reason.  It came from one of our friends and it was a picture frame filled with pictures.  They weren't just any pictures, mind you, but carefully selected pictures representing all our friends and the silliest or happiest times we had together.  I looked it over after I pulled it out of the wrappings and tears streamed down my face.  Even my husband choked back a sob.  There are people here, and they are fantastic...but no one can replace the friends we've made in Columbia.  We both miss them so much!  And those pictures made me realize that we would always be in each others' hearts, even when we are far away and can't see one another in person.  Perhaps you think this all sounds droll and contrived, but I didn't feel like this at all when I left high school.  There were maybe two or three people I had interest in seeing again and staying in touch with and one of them reads this blog and her first name starts with N.  Everyone else could absolutely go suck a giant dick.  But now, this longing I have to be with the people I care about is so strong and I've never felt it before.  It's rather soul crushing sometimes late in the evening when I want to cook a bunch of bacon and watch stupid horror movies and I become rather depressed.  But those feelings pass and those pictures now sit on display in our living room so that they can help me through the sadness.  I'm so thankful and lucky.

Edit:  I'm retarded.  I forgot my own birthday.

Monday began normally, but emboldened by the newly obtained money, my husband and I went on a bit of a spending spree in the evening.  We bought a shredder, some stationary for thank you notes, several other random things we had been needing and finally a 160 GB iPod Classic to replace my 3 GB one that could no longer handle all my music.  I was happy, but I look my old one and I can almost hear it crying out to me, asking why I no longer love it.  I named it Rin.  My husband gave it to me for my birthday several years ago and I was overjoyed and danced around and listened to it all the time until one fateful day when we bought too many CDs for it to handle.  When I couldn't decide what to delete it became a kind of impossibility to listen to my iPod, facilitated by one of my neurotic mental blocks.  It was like my iPod was frozen in time, a time when I had less music.  I was frightened of what would happen if I plugged it in and it couldn't take all the music.  Would it delete what it couldn't handle?  I didn't know.  I don't trust iTunes or iPods or any Apple products and only used them only because my husband bought me one so long ago.  Regardless, it was almost like leaving home and later hearing that my parents go rid of the computer I played games on from age 9 to 18.  It was like I had lost a friend.  Even though it was obselete we had been through a lot together.  Anyway, Rin is sitting next to my husband's computer, waiting for him to accept an Apple product into his life.  I don't know if he is ready to do that.  We are both such avid PC fans that I often wonder why he bought me an iPod at all, or why I insisted on replacing it.  People are strange things sometimes.  So now there is Larry.  I wanted to name the shredder Larry but my husband was like, "What?  We bought something referred to as a shredder and you're going to name it Larry?  Name it Shredder after the bad guy from Ninja Turtles!!"  So the iPod is Larry and he is happily resting next to my laptop.  He is safe I think, safe from the abandonment that technological devices have to suffer through when they become obsolete.  Considering I only have 4 GB of music at this time and I don't think I even like 160 GB of music I don't think he will ever fill up.  You never know, though.  I guess if I ever start carrying videos around with me he might be in danger.  I won't tell him right now.  I'll let him enjoy this honeymoon period for a little longer.  Then I'll download all the episodes of Red Dwarf and the dream will be broken.

Tuesday was my birthday, but since I kind of got my present on Monday I wasn't particularly concerned.  The fact of the matter was that I felt like a complete douche taking my husband out shopping the day before my birthday, not because it was my birthday but because it was the day that Dragon Age Origins came out.  He really wanted that game and we ended up being to lazy to go out and get it at midnight.  Tuesday morning I got up with him and after he left I drove to Best Buy and waited by the doors until they opened, ran inside, found the fat guy who was unpacking the new releases and asked for a collector's edition copy for the PC.  I got back just in time to leave it on his computer chair with a little note and then run outside to catch the bus to campus.  I couldn't come home for lunch but he called me on his lunch break and was so happy and surprised that I marked the day off as a success even though the rest of the day consisted of me finishing my NSF Proposed Plan of Research essay.  He insisted on taking me out to dinner even though I protested and I got this really good white chocolate bread pudding for dessert and it was pretty much the best birthday ever even though it wasn't really like a birthday at all.

Wednesday and Thursday were more NSF editing and today has been relatively nice now that I'm waiting on Charles (I'm never going to get used to calling him that) to edit my drafts.  I had a late lunch with my husband and then took a trip to the Goodwill with a classmate to get some trashy clothing for the Halloween party this evening.  Yes, a week late, but graduate students are busy.  We are all dressing up as zombies together and when my husband gets off work we are going to head to the gathering place and get our make-up on.  I'm glad he kept some of those really crappy shirts from his high school years because I think we are going to get them pretty messy.  Should be fun and I am looking forward to it.

There.  That gets us up to date.