The kids are going to Area marching contest tomorrow, in San Antonio. I am so excited for them. They got straight 1s at UIL, which is amazing, and I know they will do fantastically at Area. I wish I could go, but it is a three hour drive and I have classes that day - and it is the classes I am iffy on. I never thought I would see the day when Bio II was my best class...
Speaking of which, I need to start amassing a list of possible majors that I can put into a hat and pull out. I do not think my relatives thought I was being serious when I told them of this method of selection, but Emma has a large pink furry hat from which I will choose a major when it comes time to register for next semester's classes in order to keep my parents happy (or alternately, cruelly string them along and allow them to think I will actually do something with my life for just a little longer. Depends on how you look at it). Apparently "being a dinosaur" and "anything but English OH GOD not English" do not qualify as real majors. How sad.
I also need to make sure to schedule all classes next semester for daytime, so that I will be available for helping-of-the-family during evening and after school hours.
I commented to my mother that it is fortunate for her that I have absolutely no social life whatsoever, thus freeing me for errand-running, sibling-watching, sibling-transporting, and miscellaneous other activities whenever the need arises. She agreed.
Pretty damn good trade for feeding, clothing, housing, and educating me, really. The parental units sure got the short end of the stick on that deal. One of the many reasons I do not desire children. They could turn out like me, and no one enjoys disappointment.
My mother has taken to opening my mail. This does not bother me much in practice, as I am not having drugs or strange adult novelties sent to our door and I do not much care if she sees that I have bought a corset pattern and a book on sewing, but the principle of the thing bugs me. jenndolari suggests I cure her of this habit by purchasing a Fleshlight. Heh heh heh. I shall refrain, as I like not being disowned.
Anyone analyze dreams? I had the weirdest dream ever last night. I am not sure whether my subconscious is just trying to mess with me, or whether I have a deeply suppressed fear of Canada...