a bird pooped on me and I thought it was my Dad in heaven saying hello

I know you’re probably saying, man this chick is just a tad indecisive when it come to these freakin’ templates. First it was blue, then it was that sedate green one with the weird Willy Wonka flowers, then it was that way oversized one with a jade plant photo where you could barely see the text on the left side and then briefly, god I hope nobody saw it, there was another one that actually popped up with my  actual name on it as in, “hi this was written by @@@@@@” which almost made me faint and then this one, but I have had to keep adjusting the colors at the top, since I’m an artist and everything has to be very Zen color-wise.

Meh, I’ve really just avoiding writing an entry. Its not that I don’t love you. Its just that my life is so tediously boring lately that I’ve been vegetating around my apartment, depressed, trying to think of things to say. Like I’ll notice things like, wow, Guardcat always uses the catbox at the same time as I go to the bathroom. Can you imagine? Wow! That’s really funny!  Maybe they should put out a line of greeting cards geared towards forty something women who live with cats.

“I’m so in tune with my cat…” (open the card) “…we use the “litterbox” at the same time!” Ha ha ha ha….ha(?)

And to think, for some inexplicable reason, WordPress, just recently voted me one of their “Top 100 Growing Blogs”. What’s up with that?

Oh, the pressure. I guess I’ll now have to (cough) actually write an entry, in order to be in the running. Ya think? But like I said, I haven’t been doing much except chaining myself to the computer* (* because I don’t have a life) and going on a lot of hikes.

I did go down to the mental health social service place Monday for the EM powerment group. Having only my mom to talk to…since my appointments with “A” are basically down to only about once a month …is difficult. Because I’ll start to tell my mom something that is important to me, like the opening of my recent art show and about 1.5 minutes into it, she’ll say, “Oh, how cute, my cat is licking her butt. Ha ha ha”, thus ending my reign of terror, better known as “my part of the conversation”, thus switching back to her part which generally revolves around 1) her health, 2) her annoying neighbors, 3) the parking situation at her apartment complex and of course 4) that grand soap opera we’ve all come to know and love “The Gay Elvis and all his 350 Pound Crazy-Ass Groupies Show”. You know the ones who surreptitiously park outside his house. Propose marriage. Call his house 750 times a day. Expose their nipples to him. And actually believe that he is in love with them. WTF?

I mean, I understand his need to be nice to his fans, since his very small time career needs to be nurtured since the time of the year when he doesn’t mow lawns for a living ends soon, but gah! Is it really worth all these crazy whackos being totally convinced that they’re going to marry you and have their wedding reception at the Big Dip Ice Cream Stand?

So anyways, what was I talking about? Oh, going to the EM powerment group. Can you see why I need one? I hadn’t gone in about three weeks. I sorta wanted to see “J”, since he always makes me feel like a goddess in a way, because he sorta had a little crush on me when we worked together. But alas he wasn’t there yesterday. Boo-hoo. But the group, sort of did its job, in a backhanded sort of way. It was something that I used to use when I worked there. I would feel crummy when I went to work and then I would lead a support group and listen to somebody beat themselves up and say “Wah, everyone hates me. I’m horrible. I’m not worthy” and then realize just how much better my life was than theirs.  See how that works? Isn’t that noble of me? Oh stop.

When I was in the group yesterday, even though I don’t work there anymore, I immediately jumped in like I used to and told the woman all the good things about herself, even though I didn’t know her and she seemed to feel better after the group. A little less down on herself. And I felt better for helping someone. And it was Waaaay better than sitting home on my lazy ass in front of the computer.

Afterwards, since I was afraid of losing my good mojo, because it seemed imminent as soon as I walked out of the building, I headed over to our zoo. I hadn’t been to the zoo in over a year and we just got two new baby ocelots recently, so…

I thought since school was out, I wouldn’t be hit with any unwieldy field trips full of loud bratty kids, but instead I was just hit a butt-load of loud bratty unwieldy kids and their mothers. My god, I wonder how much sugar they fed them for lunch?? Because they were screaming. Running. Stepping on feet. Flailing their arms. Throwing rocks at the whistling swans.  Banging on the glass windows of the exhibits.

I was trying to take some photos and they kept jumping in front of my camera. I finally had to give one little boy my very special evil-severe-you’re-going-to-die-death-ray glare and tell him to please stop putting his hands in front of my camera since I was clearly trying to take pictures and he looked up at me rather startled, like…

MOMmmmmmmmy!!!!!! Oh my god! I’ve been (gulp) disciplined!! Help!! I need therapy now!!

Oh fercrissakes, I just needed him to move his grubby little mitts ever-so-slightly so I wouldn’t have 10 little odd sausage fingers in my damn picture.

Now mothers and possibly fathers (Hi Smed) reading this….I realize you’re probably saying, but witty, you’re not a mother!  Well, not all the kids there were like this, ya see. Some were great and very well behaved and truly enjoying the zoo. Not just using it like a giant crazy screaming and running around acting and screaming like an idiot Chucky-Cheese hell-zone place. I don’t even know if they were aware that there were at a zoo. And then I would look around for the mothers of these hellions and they’d either be chatting with another mother or they’d be deeply involved on some very very very important cell phone call completely unaware that their son had smashed the glass of the lemur display and was now stabbing it with a shard of glass to see if it would bleed. 

So my trip to the zoo wasn’t all that enjoyable. And I LOVE the zoo too!

When I got there, they had really pulled out all the stops to welcome me too. The exotic bird sanctuary is at the front entrance and once I hit the restroom, I went into the exotic bird place. Its always hot and steamy in there, I guess because they’re trying to recreate the weather of New York City in July the tropical rain forest.

I had my camera with me naturally, as mentioned and was trying to take pictures of some brightly colored birds that were sitting on a log.  And wow, then suddenly this large turtle came trundling over. He obviously wanted his picture taken too. Think Nathan Lane of the turtle world. I mean, he was all about getting photographed with the birds. National Geographic was definitely going to want this one.  So I leaned over the rail slightly and put the camera up to my eye when I suddenly felt a blanket of warmth engulf my hand.

Dad?

Yeah, I always think my Dad is trying to communicate with me like the Dad Whisperer when I feel something warm touch me, but instead I looked down and the whole top of my hand was a dripping with a giant glob of white and green bird shit.  

And all I could think was…Now what bad karma am I paying for? Aren’t we done yet?

So then, of course, you’re kind of afraid to look back up when something like that happens, so I stepped back a few feet and cautiously looked up and there was some brightly colored pigeon-like birds (Mexican Pigeons?) up in the rafters who appeared to be snickering, as if it say: “Stupid Gringo!”

 So I started walking around with my hand held straight out in front of me since I didn’t want it to drip into my purse or onto my camera or onto a shirt which I had just gotten over the weekend. Although the colors were similar…white and green. Nothing like color coordinating bird poop with your wardrobe.

“Yes, dahling, I’ll be wearing the green and white today, since I feel a bird poop coming on.”

I finally found my way to the bathroom and washed it off, although it had already started to cake onto my Mickey Mouse watch.  I guess the only thing I can take from all this is…well, I’ve already been shit on and its only Monday…so my week can only get better, right?!?!  🙂

twopenguinsswimming.jpg

This is one of my penguin shots, minus the bratty kids. Those suckers can swim really fast.

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8 Responses to “a bird pooped on me and I thought it was my Dad in heaven saying hello”

  1. Smed Says:

    Go go go Speed Penguin!

  2. Stepfie Says:

    Thats a very ‘painterly’ picture – I thought it was something you’d drawn, maybe with oil pastels – Lovely! Better than pictures of penguins standing still, which can look a bit like Non-denominational Christmas (Holiday?) cards. One of BFs friends, who was visiting with us this evening, remarked with some surprise how my kids just went off to bed when I asked them. No backchat, no whining. He seemed to think this was unusual. Not in our house, buddy! s x

  3. LA Says:

    A green and white shirt? Morticia, thou hast betrayed me. (delicate sobbing into black lace hankie) ~LA

  4. awittykitty Says:

    I was trying to blend in with the fauna, LA. I did have black shorts on! Honest! And thanks Stepfie for noticing the painterly aspect of the penguins swimming. FINALLY, somebody noticed, since nobody on Flickr did.

  5. LA Says:

    It’s Spam Girl! The bridge is the Tappan Zee. And where you were at that moment was Tarrytown, home of Washington Irving. The next bridge you passed was the Bear Mt and that’s where Rip VanWinkle did his napping. The next, next bridge is the Newburg-Beacon. Yuppers, it’s damn purdy here. ~LA

  6. scotvalkyrie Says:

    Stephie beat me to it! I was also going to say how painterly the penguins looked. And I loved that shade of green! I think that would be a lovely painting.

  7. Seacreature Says:

    That’s the first thing I thought when I looked at that picture, too. Right away, I knew why you posted it. I love the color of the water, that’s actually my favorite color…blue green. It looks like water color in the backround with penguins done in marker over it. I hope your week has indeed gotten better.

    Oh yea…you know what you should try with your mom? When she interrupts you and starts talking about fat Elvis, her corns or whatever…randomly stick comments in. Like, look down into your shirt and say, “Gee, my nipple hair is getting long.” If that stops her yacking, continue with, “How’s your nipple hair? The wind is changing… Where are the blueberries?” Just keep doing that. Try something different.

  8. GoingLoopy Says:

    I too will say “love the penguin picture.” I like that you can’t tell it’s a penguin till you really look at it.

    And yeah. Kids either seem to fall in the “oh wow, this kid is awesome” or “holy fuck, what the hell did you spawn?”

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