Ross and I are still waiting to hear about, you know, the rest of our lives. I feel an awful lot like the girl above (image found here), except more homicidal. More than anything else, I'm just really ready to start graduate school. I thrive in a college environment. I think I'll try to stay in one for the rest of my life.
Creature is recovering from her surgery, although not as quickly as I'd like. I fret about her, which has led me to an important realization about myself: much through I regret this, I'm pretty sure that if we have kids I'm going to be a worrying kind of mom. I just hope I have the presence of mind to let my kids do things (like climb trees and fall down and have adventures) anyway.
Zoo Camp continues to go incredibly well. Words fail me when I try to describe how wonderful my staff is, and I'm reduced to saying things like "Tiger B staff is awesome. They're really, really awesome. Just... awesome." The thing is, they really are.
Ross is organizing his music. In case you didn't know, he plays extremely well. Last year for his birthday I found the sheet music for the Amelie soundtrack online. It's out of print here, so our copy is in French, which is delightful.
Shhh - Birthday Secrets: I really want to get him the sheet music for the Fantastic Mr. Fox soundtrack for this birthday (which is in less than a week!) but haven't been able it find it. Perhaps that's just as well; I think there's more banjo than piano in the music.
Today I drove from the zoo to the Rose Garden, sight of my infamous crash (bike crash #2). I was following some bikers most of the way and realized that I may never, ever really get on a bike ever again. Just watching other people on bikes elevates my heart rate to a noticeable degree. Yikes. No thanks.
And one last thing... Today I got a call from a town in MI. Having forgotten whether MI stood for Michigan or Minnesota (for which I hope to be forgiven), I was super excited answering the phone, only to be disappointed when a prerecorded female voice started talking to me in broken Spanish. Amanda, you're missed. The end.
I *heart* being in the classroom, as well. My sophomore year of college I told my father I wanted to be an academic for the rest of my life.
ReplyDeleteHe chuckled and said "I hope they are teaching you how to grow money on trees at that school."
They didn't teach me that. (frowny face emoticon appropriate here)
Hi grreat reading your post
ReplyDelete