Thursday, March 08, 2007

File not found

Guess what post number THIS is?

Hint: check out the title. So.Very.Clever, No?


Mode today - random.

No topical fodder today here, though Biff's got a good one over at Spiffytown. Go read his stuff and comment lavishly. I'm sure you'll agree, there's something for EVERYONE when you're talking about getting fired.


I'm pretty sure the avian population of North Carolina is trying to kill me. In the last three days my car has been divebombed by a small brown bird, a larger brown bird, and a medium-sized gray bird. Sorry I can't provide species and sex; it's hard to retain ornithologic composure when you're trying to maintain control of your bladder function.

They ALL, however, scared the bejeebers out of me as they suddenly appeared 2 feet away from the windshield, swooping swiftly past my field of vision, narrowly missing becoming a feathered road-ready flat snack courtesy of me and a speeding Kia.

(An FYI - The wait for that rush of cold adrenaline chill takes about 0.5 seconds after crisis has been encountered. The neck tingle is a sure sign your limbic system is working properly)

The biggest bird I've ever had a close encounter with was a red-tailed hawk. That bad boy (or girl, because, again, it was going too fast for me to genderize it) was most certainly after its breakfast and didn't see the white bulk of Tinkerbell hurtling through its intended trajectory until it was almost too late. I do believe I heard the whistling of wings through the window as it rushed past, twisting away from me in an feat of aerial acrobatics so intense that I'm pretty sure it must have sprained something important in the doing of it. Mighty exciting.

It is, therefore, my suspicion that my car has been ID'ed by the birds, and now they're just messing with me, trying to keep me scared, seeing which one can play Ultimate Chicken the best, which one can FINALLY drive my car into a ditch as I gasp in fear and surprise (sans ruthless efficiency).

More details as events warrant.


I hit a deer once with my car.

Spun that sucker right around after launch. Watching it skid in circles on the road like an ice skater was pretty cool. I'm fairly sure I killed it. Nice sized buck too. Had to replace the front bumper on Tinkerbell....... I think I think that deer cost about 90 bucks a pound in damage to my mode of transport.

I also hit a dog once. At least I think it was a dog. I was driving back from a party at my brother's house, and it was a darkity-dark 2 a.m. and I maybe was not so very sober really, and something ran in front of my car that was dog-shaped and black, and, well, I hit it. Winged, it, more like, but because it was more mammalian than avian I guess I couldn't really have winged it, but you get the idea. It thudded, but not in a fatal-sounding way. I did not stop to see if the mystery object was OK, because of the sober issue and the dark thing and the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE-ness of the setting. I said a little prayer that, come morning, I wouldn't find any animal goo on the front bumper, and continued on home.

Thankfully, there was no goo.


When my Mom taught me how to drive, lo those many years ago, she tried really hard to be patient. She didn't stomp much on the invisi-brake, didn't screech in fear or berate me as we drove in circles around the parking lots of George Mason University, didn't raise her voice in frustration at my inability to accurately judge distances between me an immovable objects.

Nope, all she did was to suck air in through her teeth in a backwards hiss if I did anything amiss.

To this day, that sound give me the chills.


See? Random.


Feel free to use the comments to tell jokes or wonder about the overall state of my mental health, or to trade recipes or baseball cards, cuz this is all I've got for today.

Let's pray tomorrow brings improvement.

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