I've had all of my classes now, most of them twice. I am settling into being a student. While standing in line at the bookstore, clutching an overpriced copy of Understanding the Math You Teach, I was asked, "oh, are you a teacher?" I replied, to my surprise, with "not yet."

Paul came into town on Wednesday en route to Burning Man. I met him at Union Station with a couple burritos from Pedro and Vinnie's. I am such a nice person. We went to see Captain Abu Raed together, which was sweet and sad. We ate mango sorbet, which was simply sweet. And now he's off to have an intense experience in the desert.

My friend Justine blew into town and cooked up a fabulous dinner of dishes she learned while she lived in India. She has now blown away again to go to Portland, and from there she'll head to the other side of the world once more. I don't see as much of Justine as I'd like to, but maybe it's worth it. She always comes back with so many stories.

On Saturday, I worked. It was simple, easy, and full of chill indie tunes. I got home and practiced French horn. Life was good. And then I had a headache and felt dizzy, and before I knew it I was in bed with Buffy and a fever of 102 degrees.

On Sunday, I did not work. I stayed home with Buffy and my fever. Monday, I woke up and felt better. Back to my normal temperature of about 97.7.

I've continued to watch a lot of Buffy. I also did some phonebanking for the September 8th action, which everyone in DC should think about attending. Everyone in DC should also think about heading to the triclosan drop-off hosted by Food and Water Watch on September 12th, where you can get rid of household products with triclosan in them. I will not be attending the drop-off, assuming that my plans to go to the Heritage Harvest Festival work out.

My life feels fairly full, and I like it.