It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a shitstorm with silver lining!

Today something truly delightful happened, almost immediately followed by a devastating discovery, which was then followed by the realization that this devastating discovery could, in fact, provide both the answer and the solution to a profound and vexing problem I’ve had my entire adult life.  That, or it’s really, really bad news bears.  Or it could be both.  I don’t know yet.

The internet had this:

and this:

to say about today’s events.  Sage advice, Internet.  I will heed your words well.


Life lessons

This is another one that I sent to Caitlin and then decided it was again too humiliating/hilarious not to share.  And yes, I realize that of the whopping four blog entries I’ve done so far, I’ve mentioned Caitlin twice and literally no one else even once, making it appear that I only have one friend.  Mmm, I’m just getting more and more attractive every day, aren’t I, world?

“I just read your blog entry.  Funny thing: that almost happened to me this morning.  Ok, I do yoga in my underwear.  I also feed Ixchel in my underwear, because she always makes a big mess and slings formula everywhere, and it’s easier to clean formula splatters off skin than clothing.  And then, because I’ve already been walking around in my underwear doing yoga and feeding Ixchel, I go ahead and feed the rest of the birds in my underwear, too.  ‘Cos why the hell not?  I live alone.  So before giving them fresh water, I dump the birds’ old water into my hanging plants that are out on my front porch.  If I didn’t do that, they’d otherwise never get watered.

So this morning, the birds were all out of their cages, I was in my underwear, and I took a couple of old water bowls out to the porch to water the plants (I should clarify here that my front yard is fully enclosed in a privacy fence, so it’s not like I’m flashing the neighbors).  I shut the door behind me so that none of the birds would fly out the door.  The problem is that my door knob has a little button on it that, if it’s pressed in, locks the door automatically.  So I went out, watered the plants, and then when I turned to walk back in, realized that the knob was locked.  FUCK.  I was envisioning myself running down S_____ in my underwear screaming at the top of my lungs: “BFF NEEDS PHONE!  BFF NEEDS LOCKSMITH!”  And then getting arrested and sent to the State Hospital for apparent mental illness.  Fortunately for me, I have a flare for the dramatic, as you well know, so I half-jokingly threw myself against the front door crying, “Nooooo!”  As it turns out, I hadn’t shut the door all the way, so the bolt hadn’t completely engaged.  My weight was enough to push it back open.  Talk about a stroke of luck.  I mean, for the good citizens of Austin who happened to be on S_____ this morning, more so than for me.  Poor people would have had PTSD if they witnessed me running down the street in my undies.
Lesson learned: always get dressed before taking the birds’ water out to the plants.  I would say, “Always make sure you have your keys with you before you walk outside,” but I think you and I both know that’s a bit of an unrealistic expectation!”