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I saw a guy last night who looked just like Tom Toast, and I realized I don't remember Tom's real last name because of the "toast" part. Damn Dr. Torgerson.

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I decided to vote for spring and wear a skirt today, which means that by the time I left the office it was cold and very very windy, to the extreme amusement of my barton-fink-looking sometimes-walking-home partner. (Incidentally, my work has a basketball tournament every year, and Jims is the captain of the gay epidemiology team. The thought of a bunch of gay lab monkeys playing basketball promises to be one of the funniest things I'll see all year.)

Actually, I found it pretty entertaining too, mostly because I had fortunately decided on a long skirt and not something short and flippy. Even though I lived with Cyn, I did not pick up her flashing strangers tendency. (I (heart) you, Cyn.)

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I need about seventy-three hugs. I'm not doing very well these days.