Requesting some forceful not-serious cancer~ma for a very good friend. She has uterine cancer but the severity has not been determined. At the very least she will have to have a hysterectomy.

When it rains, it pours. Also asking that you extend that ~ma a bit further for another good friend who just found out she has a lump on her breast. Her next doctor's appointment is this week.

This is an informative message for my Secret Santa, anyone else who is sending things my way, and the general populace.

December 16th, I am going home, and I don't know about my Internet access.

December 18th, I will be flying to India.

January 9, I will be returning home, and I don't know about my Internet access.

January 10, I will be returning to Ann Arbor.

The take-home message is not only "I'm going to be hella dark over the holidays" but also: please don't mail anything to me until early January. I'd rather it not sit in the post office or the apartment lobby for a couple weeks.

I just found out that my landlord has sold my building. I am happy to no longer have to deal with him because he never actually fixed anything, but I am worried (because I don't currently have a lease) that I am going to have a big rent increase for the new year.

I'm about to send a sample chapter to an agent. Never done this before. Terrified. Posting here about it means it's real, so I can't chicken out; I have to follow through. Good agent~ma requested, if anyone has some to spare.

As of four thirty or so yesterday afternoon, I'm now Jars B.A. (hons).

Yay! That's all, really.

We have a date! Stephen and I have picked August 6, 2005 for our wedding, to be held at West Point on the Eno park in Durham, NC.

Let the caterer-hunting and the iTunes mixing begin!

I'm going dark until Tuesday or Wednesday, as I'm turning in my cable modem shortly, and then leaving LA to return to the land where there is winter.

(btw, if anyone in LA knows anyone who wants a fridge, like, today, for the love of God, let me know)

I will miss the LA-istas terribly.

Thanks for any and all well-wishes; the DF'svalve repair was a huge success, and he's recuperating incredibly well (and is at Nordstrom with his parents now, 12 days after surgery).

The Bitches know my grad school saga well by now. During a year-and-a-half of this PhD program in pharmacology, I have rotated in five labs. All but one (who hardly saw me anyway) of my mentors said the same thing each time they didn't take me in their lab: I lacked motivation, and they questioned whether I wanted to be here, whether I was committed to getting a PhD.

Turns out I'm not. What I want is to be a science writer, and I don't need a PhD for that.

Today, I set up a plan to leave here with a Master's by May, after which I hope to embark on a lucrative and exciting career writing about science (among other things).

Some requests: loan/job/money-ma, so I don't starve and can pay my rent; acceptance/understanding-ma for my parents, so they don't totally freak out; and general luck-ma that this will all work out.

Today is December 13, 2004, and I just made a life-changing decision.