Preferably mine.
I spent a huge section of today going through the course offerings at reasonably local colleges and universities trying to see if any of them had the courses that I wanted to take. (If I'm reading BU's course catalog right, they have classes in Zulu but not in Polish. Now, I'll be the first to say that classes in Zulu are just terrifically cool, but not what I'm looking for.) (Not that BU is as convenient as it was back when we lived smack between BU and BC, but hey, who's counting.)
I'm slowly grinding around to the conclusion that I want to learn how to drive, only ten years after most of the people I know came to that conclusion. The prospect still terrifies me, but the fact that it terrifies me is mattering less and less as I ponder the possibility of needing to get to classes and the possibility that we may move up to near the New Hampshire border sometime in the next couple of years. Getting me a car while we're in this house is probably about as plausible as the parrot: where would we put it? So no immediate hurry.
In more immediate contemplations, am making sure to correct the plausibility on going to this year's PantheaCon in a month so that I can inarow my ducks. And send in my registration and make plane reservations and figure out how long I can stay with
brooksmoses and
suzimoses before I become annoying and all that good stuff.
Am getting terribly wary of the number of people who respond to me saying things are shiny with, "You've got a birthday coming up!"
So that's the broadly flavored arc of what's going on in my head, in amongst the other miscellanea. My father will be happy. (He's been wanting to know when I'm going back to school approximately since I dropped out, and has been of the opinion that if I'm not going back to school I should at least learn to drive.)
I like my stupid life just the way it is, and the chaos that surrounds me like a flock of screaming pigs . . .
I spent a huge section of today going through the course offerings at reasonably local colleges and universities trying to see if any of them had the courses that I wanted to take. (If I'm reading BU's course catalog right, they have classes in Zulu but not in Polish. Now, I'll be the first to say that classes in Zulu are just terrifically cool, but not what I'm looking for.) (Not that BU is as convenient as it was back when we lived smack between BU and BC, but hey, who's counting.)
I'm slowly grinding around to the conclusion that I want to learn how to drive, only ten years after most of the people I know came to that conclusion. The prospect still terrifies me, but the fact that it terrifies me is mattering less and less as I ponder the possibility of needing to get to classes and the possibility that we may move up to near the New Hampshire border sometime in the next couple of years. Getting me a car while we're in this house is probably about as plausible as the parrot: where would we put it? So no immediate hurry.
In more immediate contemplations, am making sure to correct the plausibility on going to this year's PantheaCon in a month so that I can inarow my ducks. And send in my registration and make plane reservations and figure out how long I can stay with
Am getting terribly wary of the number of people who respond to me saying things are shiny with, "You've got a birthday coming up!"
So that's the broadly flavored arc of what's going on in my head, in amongst the other miscellanea. My father will be happy. (He's been wanting to know when I'm going back to school approximately since I dropped out, and has been of the opinion that if I'm not going back to school I should at least learn to drive.)
I like my stupid life just the way it is, and the chaos that surrounds me like a flock of screaming pigs . . .
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(They bite instead. As soon as they hit puberty.)
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Factually, fids fear fewer felines; fatalities from Fido fun ferocious. Fully, forbid ferrets.
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Gads! Godawful germy guttersnipes.
However, hopefully humble hamsters help hens have happy homes.
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