I don't know what to do with the schedule.

Right now, it seems like either I'll continue with my major/major program and will have really mellow and unexciting program in history, and move to the major/minor program and have exciting programs in both history and sociology.

Either way, will need the faculty adviser's approval to do something he told me I can do last year, and apparently was wrong about it. And now I'm slightly getting screwed up about it. Oh, and of course, he won't be coming back from abroad until the 90th minute, so I get to stay here and worry.

I wonder if getting into School of History will get me out of this headache. I really wanted to take some classes in history that now seems unavailable for me.

At least sociology looks exciting. But I loved history more.

I'm sorry you are feeling so screwed up, Shir.

I'm not that screwed up.

I just, you know, thought I'll have real options. Plus, the tiredness.

It's not real problems.

What's at risk here is the chance of getting hurt, but that's the ante up for intimacy.

She's confused. You're both in a gray area. That's not even remotely unusual in the early stages of a relationship.

It may not pan out. You may get hurt. But I do know you've been happier in this relationship than you've been in a long while. That's really good.

What Hec said.

My husband is strange. I've just learned he doesn't like quiche.

A: But you like omlettes.
J: I love omlettes.
A: And you like pie.
J: I love pie.
A: Then you like quiche.
J: I do not, in fact, like quiche.

I don't know what to do with this.

Hey, more quiche for you. I kinda wish my crew didn't like it so much.

Oh yeah. A lot of which I'm going to be making for my Once a Month Cooking spree that I'm going to be embarking upon.

I made quiche last night! Spinach, cheddar, and mooshed edamame. Verrrrrrry tasty. That's been an easy go-to meal all summer. Freezes well, too.

I prefer it with crabmeat, but I live with a vegetarian and I'm too lazy to be arsed to make half with crabmeat, because I'd have to come up with a way to mark which half had it, and -- lazy.

I never thought of quiche as an omelette pie, but I guess that's kinda what it is!

One of the leading places for my parents to move to (and, of course, I'm moving with them) is two hours on buses from my campus.

Which, you know, I can do. And probably will do.

But why the fuck do they expect me to be thrilled about spending almost 4 hours, at least 4 times per week on buses? My dad acts as it's a burden on him that I'm not hopping around, excited over the news. Really. I'd love to move, sounds like it's a good place, but it's me who's gonna do all this bus-time, and can't take any class before or after cetrain hours because of that, OK?