try to catch the deluge in a paper cup (primroseburrows) wrote,
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup

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levanta, levanta, tienes que gritar; levanta, levanta, tienes que bailar

Spent the day at the spread-out campus of Boston University with my Hannah (well, and her father, who basically slept through all the infosessions).

Got a little lost on the way out of Boston. Passed within spitting distance of the Chapel (*squee*). Yes, that was me chanting OMGlooklooklook and my daughter rolling her eyes. :) Needless to say I would love it if Hannah went to BU, and it's mostly because of the curriculum and general feel of the University, and only partly because she'd be in the middle of Boston and I could take the T and not drive to visit her and OMG you can see the Citgo sign from the campus. Honestly, I'd brave the cold winters and live in Boston in an eyeblink if I could afford it (yeah, I know, patchfire, I'll change my tune come November). But it really is my favourite city in the world (that I've seen, anyway). Every time I go, from the time I was a kid, I have this odd sense of homecoming, although I've never lived there. Sometimes I think it's my Sox fangirlishiness that makes me love Boston so much, but when I really examine it, I'm positive it's the other way around. *sigh* I'm such a yankee New Englander.

Got my acceptance letter from National Midwifery Institute. The woman who runs the school had called me a couple of days ago to say it was on its way (and said she enjoyed talking to me when I called her, woah).

Ate dinner at Duffy's so I could see the game (hey, it's cheaper than a ticket, d00ds), and watched my boys trounce the Devil Rays. Boring game, but as long as we won, I couldn't be happier.

So, why have I been up since oh, 3:30, and why can't I sleep? *sigh* Maybe it's the FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS I have to come up with for the first year of NMI? I mean, I can do a payment plan, but eep.

I should go back to bed as I have to work without a day off for the next five days. I'm used to my Mondays and Thursdays off, darnit.

Oh, and we might strike. Which means no job (well, getting a temporary job) and endless picketing. *idly wonders how much it pays to work concessions at Fenway*
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