It’s Friday, I’ve worked 12 straight days if you count the scuba classes this weekend, and I’ve got at least 7 more to go before a forseeable break.

So I’m tired. Physically, mentally, I’m about to crash.


Congrats to Al Gore on his shiny new medal. I like the guy, but let’s hope he stays in environmental stuff and out of politics. Frankly, I think he can do a lot more ‘good’ there then he can in our government. Sad, but true.

Looks like the Yanks might keep Torre after all–a bunch of the players are pushing to do so. Woot.

We had some friends, Vincent and Daphne, over for dinner last night, and I made my famous enchiladas. Went very well, we had a great time, and framboise over vanilla bean ice cream is amazing.

I’ve just got to run these gel and set up some cultures for tomorrow and then I can collapse.

Until the BBQ. And having to be at work 2 hours earlier than normal on a weekend so I can be involved in Amelia’s birthday plans. And all the birthday plans. And fitting work in around them.

And then there’s the whole bag of worms involving what do you do when you feel like you’re losing your best friend? Minor detail, really.

So what do I get Amelia for her birthday?

And probably more importantly, what do I get John for his birthday?

And most importantly, does anyone have any rum?

AARGH! I’m going to go hide under a rock now, people.