What a weekend...
I am never letting Evan touch my remote control ever again. That sounds vaguely dirty. Heh. No, really, every time that boy comes over and watches TV, he loses the remote. Usually I find it. This time: nada.
I think the fairies took it.
Seriously.
In the process of looking for the aforementioned remote, I was ripping all the cushions off of my super ugly sofa and peering down into the scary sofa bed mechanism (which is where the remote usually ends up). No remote. But I did find my beloved green amber vine-shaped ring that I bought at a church yard bazzar my last day in the UK. I gave it up as lost forever a few months ago. I've been asking (out loud, half jokingly) for the fairies to return it. I never would have found it (until I moved and even then, maybe not) if I hadn't been looking for the stupid remote. I have no idea how the ring would have ended up under there. There is no way the cat could have batted it around and sent it under there. It's a frickin' heavy sofa that sits on the ground. Not even a quarter of an inch space between the bottom of the sofa and the floor.
Either way, I have my ring back and am using one of my super crappy back-up remotes until I get a better one.
I went to the information session at St Kate's yesterday. I am certain now that this is what I want, nay, need to do. All of the classes (well, the elementary school librarian classes not so much) sounded super interesting. It was fun looking around the large group before we separated into the various program groups. You could pick out the wanna-be library students. We either looked indie/arty/geeky or were somewhat dowdy middle aged women. And the few guys that were there were also in the library group. The theology students were very conservative and looked like the innocent girl next door. The nursing education students were either tanned, perfectly groomed, skinny 20 somethings or loud, tanned, perfectly groomed middle aged women.
Sometimes stereotypes make for fun people watching.
Tonight: a date with a mug of hot chocolate and part 3 of Bleak House (I found out that the screenwriter wanted to strangle Dickens for all of the various plot holes and unneeded characters. It makes it so much more enjoyable knowing that the screenwriter got made at Dickens.)
I think the fairies took it.
Seriously.
In the process of looking for the aforementioned remote, I was ripping all the cushions off of my super ugly sofa and peering down into the scary sofa bed mechanism (which is where the remote usually ends up). No remote. But I did find my beloved green amber vine-shaped ring that I bought at a church yard bazzar my last day in the UK. I gave it up as lost forever a few months ago. I've been asking (out loud, half jokingly) for the fairies to return it. I never would have found it (until I moved and even then, maybe not) if I hadn't been looking for the stupid remote. I have no idea how the ring would have ended up under there. There is no way the cat could have batted it around and sent it under there. It's a frickin' heavy sofa that sits on the ground. Not even a quarter of an inch space between the bottom of the sofa and the floor.
Either way, I have my ring back and am using one of my super crappy back-up remotes until I get a better one.
I went to the information session at St Kate's yesterday. I am certain now that this is what I want, nay, need to do. All of the classes (well, the elementary school librarian classes not so much) sounded super interesting. It was fun looking around the large group before we separated into the various program groups. You could pick out the wanna-be library students. We either looked indie/arty/geeky or were somewhat dowdy middle aged women. And the few guys that were there were also in the library group. The theology students were very conservative and looked like the innocent girl next door. The nursing education students were either tanned, perfectly groomed, skinny 20 somethings or loud, tanned, perfectly groomed middle aged women.
Sometimes stereotypes make for fun people watching.
Tonight: a date with a mug of hot chocolate and part 3 of Bleak House (I found out that the screenwriter wanted to strangle Dickens for all of the various plot holes and unneeded characters. It makes it so much more enjoyable knowing that the screenwriter got made at Dickens.)