I am mad, MAD, I tell you. Not mad in the angry sense, just mad in the crazy sense. I am obsessed. A friend of mine is having a baby. And I am now in the throws of searching for the exact right cross-stitch for the little sproglet, not the sproglet will even care over the care that his or her de facto Auntie has taken in chusing said cross-stitch. I have just spent the last 55 minutes on line on a website looking at different ones, not to mention the 45 minutes I spent in this pursuit the other evening. And I have so very much to do and yet, I am obsessed in this particular pursuit. And so I am Mad, very, very mad, but I suppose it's part of my charm, this obsessive personality of mine. It only seems to get worse when babies are involved. But I will find it. Rest assured I shall. And it will be devine! And when the sproglet grows up, he or she will appreciate what de facto Auntie so painstakingly chose and made. Heaven help me!

Well, today is my birthday. My actual birthday. I am 27 years old today. 27 years old. Tell that to anyone older than you and they look at you like, "Why are you complaining?" Actually, this year, I'm not complaining. But I think many of you know what I'm talking about. I had one hell of a weekend. For those of you that journeyed out with me on Saturday night/ Sunday morning, thank you ever so much. I had *Thee Best* time! I was definitely nicely looped and although we all got in so late, or so early- depending entirely upon your point of view, I still managed to make it to church for Sunday morning and I was there 15 minutes early, despite having gone to bed at 5 a.m. I survived my churchly duties, came home and took a two and half hour nap. Is there anything better?

Oh, I forgot to mention, on Friday when I came home from work I received a small manilla package and it informed me that I was accepted into the Master's program at Buff. State for Elementary Ed. with teaching certification, also known as the MIITC program. I will be starting grad. school in the fall! And the real irony, is that I received the acceptance letter five years to the day that I had received a rejection letter from the University of Warwick's Masters of History program. It's amazing where we eventually wind up. I'm still in the same place but on a very different course than I was five years ago.

27 years old. And I think I'm finally starting to Feel like an adult. Whatever that is.

I refuse for it to get to me. Little things are not going to ruin my night out. Everything is about perspective, right? Okay, so it just happens that the Trimania thing is this tonight. As if I knew. Although, perhaps, if I were in *the Know*, I would have known. But I can't help it they planned it the day three days prior to *My* birthday! And I can't find the necklace that I really wanted to wear tonight. I know that it is somewhere in my house as it turns up every once in a while, but that once in a while is definitely *Not* tonight. And, yes, I dropped one of my last remaining contacts down the sink. The damn thing just happened to be on inside out, which is terribly uncomfortable, so as I was taking it out to reverse it, the stupid thing fell *Plop* right absolutely square down the drain. I couldn't have done it again so perfectly if I tried. As I refuse to wear my glasses out now strictly on priniciple, I'm just going to be cute and blind. Well, not Thelma on Scooby Doo blind, but let's just say vision challenged. Things from a distance will definitely be blurry. This little things are not going to be indicative of my night. Bright side, bright side, bright side. Okay, have to go and finish getting all dolled up. Friends will be here soon.

I am Vince Clorthos, key master of Gozer, at work these days. And everyday, as I walk around, weilding my rather large assortment of keys, that line from "Ghostbusters" goes through my head. Louis Tulley. The guy who lived across the hall. Frankly, I think I would rather be the gate-keeper.

My will power is slipping and it isn't getting any better. I'm so good at home and on the weekends. I know what I can eat and what I can't and what I really shouldn't and, at home, I'm very, very good about it. My problem is work. Work is junk food central. This week, it's been cake for one of my co-workers' birthday which was Monday, with mini muffins, Starburst jelly beans, peanut M&M's, barbecue potato chips (I nearly made the "potatoE" gaff! Ack!), and double chocolate Hershey kisses. I'm only human and I'm getting complacent. 23 lbs and I'm acting like I've got it licked, like I have no more work to do and the rest of the weight will just keep coming off, so it's okay to have those jelly beans and a mini-muffin. It's okay to scarf down that piece of cake. I need help. Serious mental help! ARGH!

I can do this and I will do this! I just have to remember that I am a work of art in progress. Slow and steady wins the race. What other cliches can I throw in there? Magically everything works out for the best in the end. I think that's about it for now.