Greece, as always, is the word
My birthday was wonderfully celebrated at the Pickle Barrel with my mom, Claire, Ana, and Emily, and then again at home with my family. I received thoughtful and charming gifts, including a beautiful girly music/jewelry box with a dancing fairy inside. It is the long-awaited replacement for the frilly, lacy, beaded pink music box I had when I was five; iinside it had a little plastic ballerina wearing a tiny tutu. Then our dear young calico Zebby started getting her big-girl teeth, and began chewing on everything. First she ate the tutu. Then she came back for the ballerina. Ate her right down to the plastic toe-shoes.
As for school, I wrote my last exams and essays some time ago, and all that remains for my undergraduate career is the graduation ceremony when I get home in June. I was accepted to graduate school, and my doubts about my desire to go there were mostly quelled by the receipt of an Ontario Graduate Scholarship for a one-year Master's Degree. It doesn't pay for the whole tuition, but most of it, and I didn't want to look such a gift-horse in the mouth, no matter how filled with sharp, pointy, academically intimidating teeth that mouth might be.
It would seem this update is ridiculously full of good things in my life. I should watch out for the scourge of hubris and its attendant divine retribution, especially where I'm going. If I come home with no eyes and a galimony suit from my mother, you'll all know what's gone wrong.