Random catch up

Two more weeks of class and then our senior year ends (and I'll be about a week after that). Of course, the professors and work study supervisors would never want the last few weeks to be boring...or for there to be much room left for breathing...so, in between many, many papers that have still to be written, and plenty of work to do, we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to line up housing, vehicles, and jobs for our post BCOM life.

Of course, this being the decade that it is, running around like a chicken with your head cut off tends to look a little more like disappearing behind a computer screen, with a couple dozen tabs open, and sifting through search results until your eyeballs are ready to pop out of your head. I'm not really sure if it counts as running per-say, if the only things that are doing the running are your fingers...

Every once in a while we still find a boring moment at work, and then things like this happen...the individual roasting of every mini marshmallow on top of the s'mores bars that we served for dinner that night.

Not that we would ever find an excuse to play with fire at work...
We did manage to make it to a Paper Tongues concert in between serving at a missionary barbecue and waking up early the next morning morning to watch MKs. Because, some things, like hearing a friend's brother play on tour, are worth not sleeping.


And, so long as you can have enough energy to chase them through a zoo/lake/library/Mall of America/etc and act as a human jungle gym all day, who really cares how much sleep you got. Right?

Our final "outing" before their parents finished up furlough seminar was a trip to the free zoo, where my girls were thorough uninterested in seeing the Asian animals, thought the flamingos were cool, loved the seals, and were disappointed not to see the polar bear.

We did, however, determine that we could not hold our breath for anywhere near as long as a polar bear, learn that newborn polar bear cubs are tiny, and chase a family of ducks back into their fenced in lake. (The fact that all three girls knew how to herd a duck exactly where they wanted it to go seemed a little telling of the fact that they have not grown up in urban America.)

One of my classmates decided part way through the first week that, based on his observations, "95% of MKs have dark hair." In my world, two out of fifteen being blond doesn't equal out to 5%, but, close enough. :)