In the oft-repeated words of crew members of a certain rowdy boat sailing around the bays of Maine in June, 1997: "Its freakin' freezin' Mr. Biggles." Of course, after that exclamation, we usually had to jump in to the 50 degree water and do a couple of laps around the boat.

It is freakin' freezin' in Houston. In the last week the highs have topped out at in the upper 80s. There were 13 tornadoes. Flooding. And now, there is a low of 32 degrees.

My weekend went mostly as intended. On Friday I stayed at work way too late (for a Friday) working on homework, vegged out, talked to Karen (who still hasn't updated her journal!). On Saturday morning, I drove up to Huntsville to meet Gavin and Jen who were camping there. We did the 8 mile "loop" hike around the lake in the state park. And then I headed back home. It must've really worn me out, because I basically crashed at 9:30 p.m. (I am such an old lady!). Sunday, I slept in (yeh!), cleaned up some of the house, did some laundry, watched Shawshank Redemption (for the millionth time), and attempted to do my finite elements homework (I totally don't understand what's going on! In my desperation, I finally e-mailed the prof for a meeting before or after class tomorrow).