The Freedom of Flightless Birds

I am taking a moment to pause on the chronicle of my ever-fascinating life in Virginia to write about something of great importance to me. I have been doing a lot of thinking about this and I have formed a pretty solid hypothesis on a topic I believe everybody should be a little more aware of: The Freedom of Flightless Birds.

This is not something I have been entirely silent about. It was sparked by my painful recollection of the Attack of the Waterloo Chickens (see: The Art of Procrastination) and I have discussed it at considerable length with my dear friend Kenny. I am also told that on a night during which I consumed more wine than Christ, I ranted about peacocks for a pretty lengthy amount of time (I know what you're thinking. You want to drink with me. Shoot me a line, we can probably make this happen).

Before I begin I must say this: I love animals. So before anybody gets PETA all up in here (because I am that important), I am all about the respect and protection of all living things. I've seen Ferngully. I'm not an asshole.

However, in regard to flightless birds, something is terribly wrong. I think the root of the problem is that we feel bad for them, so we overcompensate for their lack of abilities by giving them free run when, really, this is an inappropriate response. Just because they can't fly and the other birds probably make fun of them does not mean they should be allowed to wander freely in public, high-human traffic places at the possible expense of one's well being.

I am going to begin with chickens. Chickens are not that intelligent, but I am pretty sure that, as a flock, they have pretty evil motives. There are very few things more terrifying than being run at by a clucking, flapping, mass of feathery, pecking chickens. I appreciated the movie "Chicken Run" as much as the next person, and if chickens really were plump and adorable with little knit hats and endearing accents, I would probably go chill with them. But this is a gross misrepresentation of the truly terrifying chicken flock mentality.

Continuing on this thread: Wild Turkeys. There is a wild turkey in my hometown and it is HUGE. It just walks around on the sidewalk, like it fucking owns Valley Road. And they are NOT nice. I worked as a summer camp counselor and we took a field trip to a lake. There were wild turkeys roaming around ALL OVER. There were also signs posted everywhere about keeping one's distance from these bird-demons. There have been few experiences in my life as stressful as keeping thirty nine-year-olds away from a group of wild turkeys that could potentially do them extreme physical harm.

This guy is NOT fucking around.

The same thing goes for peacocks.

Zoos all over the world have arrived at the conclusion that it is somehow OKAY to let peacocks just go wherever the fuck they want. Who was in charge of this decision? Who sat down and said, "Hrm. We're gonna need some sort of pen over here for the baby goats. Yeah. They might head butt somebody in the shin. We just can't afford that kind of liability. The peacocks? No! They're fine. Let them roam freely amongst the patrons!"

Aside: Did you know there is a United Peafowl Association? Seriously. http://www.peafowl.org/. How could I possible make that up?

Apparently Febreeze is harmful to your pet peacock or peahen. WHO figured this out? First of all, who keeps a peacock in their home? I can totally understand why Febreeze came into the equation here, because that place must be all kinds of stank. But really?



Really.
(P.S. If anybody was wondering what to get me for Christmas,this is now, officially number one of my wishlist. HINT HINT.)

At least now if anybody asks me, "Wow, what the fuck are you going to do with a degree in Shakespeare and Performance?" (as people often do - rude) I will be able to say, "I don't know. BUT at least I am not researching the effects of Febreeze on peafowl!"
Odds are they won't be able to come back with anything before I run away.

I Think My Headphones Have Caused Me Premature Hearing Loss

This post has absolutely nothing to do with its title. Just stating that before we begin. In fact, this is going to be a relatively serious post.

I need to pause for a moment (though how one pauses on a blog I do not know) and take a deep breath and center myself and all of that lovely stuff and just reflect upon the grandness of being where I am right now. Being so busy and so overwhelmed by newness has almost caused me to lose sight of the real blessing that my life currently is. Sure, I'm reading so much that my brain feels kinda like a canteloupe that has been in the fridge for just a little bit too long (you know what I'm talking about). And sure, I am exhausted all the time. And yes, it is true that there are moments when I want to stamp my feet, sit on the floor, cross my arms and mope. Puffy bottom lip and all.

Then I sit and think and say to mySelf, "Alright Self. First of all, you asked for this, so enough with the 'woe is me' thing. It's annoying. Secondly, this is pretty awesome. Look at how much you've already grown!" And mySelf is pretty darn smart, not to mention totally right.

Before I get too embedded in self-reflection imagery here, let me get to the point. The point is to talk a bit about all of the things I am grateful for at this exact moment. That way, next time a 5-year-old-I-don't-WANNA-juice-box-throwing tantrum threatens to spill out, or a bout of homesickness sneaks up, I can read back and remember that, in the great words of Peter Griffin, "this is why we're heeeeeere."

1. Friends: I cannot, for a moment, imagine anything more important than my friendships. Since my arrival in Virginia-land, I have met some pretty incredible people and I cannot even think about what I would do without the joy of having them in my life. In addition, my friends from home have remained constant, supportive, and as wonderful as ever. I live in constant awe of the love that surrounds me.


2. Family: The texts and calls from my parents and especially my amazing brother are more important to me than they can imagine (especially the "White Chicks" references, JP. Keep them COMING). I wish Charlie had people-communication capabilities because I miss my dog like crazy. And he is afraid of the phone.


3. Music: I am a super musical person. As it has always been, it is a haven, knowing and providing exactly what I need, exactly when I need it.


4. Comedy: This continues to be my favorite medium, my base, and my heart. If I can make a life out of this, it will all be worthwhile.


5. Waking up, immersed in what I love: Some days I really do not want to get out of bed, and sometimes what I am reading is dense and horrible. However, in general, I love what I am learning and especially what I am working toward. I am so blessed to have the opportunity to be doing this.


6. Pudding: It is just really delicious.

This is a very short list of things I am thankful for right now, but writing even this abridged list of gratitude has bolstered my somewhat weary and overwhelmed spirits.

As has this. Oh, pudding.

The Art of Procrastination

Masses of homework stretch before me, like an endless sea of black and white verbosity filled with paper cuts and despair.

Alright. It really isn't that serious. What is serious, however, is the procrastination storm that has taken over my life. I enjoy learning. I really do. Acquiring knowledge is one of my favorite things, especially when it is knowledge that enhances something I am interested in or passionate about.

I think the problem I am having right now is due to the fact that once I get a certain amount accomplished, I start congratulating myself and, as a result of celebrating too soon, I mentally shut down and getting anything else done becomes an epic battle between my brain and every other force of nature up to and including the major importance of cleaning the liter box over and over again.

So, as a little break and treat to myself (and EVERYBODY else. I know. You're welcome.) here is a brief list entitled:

"Things I'd Rather Do Than Read Metrical Art"

1. Watch Spongebob Squarepants. All day.

This may seem obvious. And it really is. I'd rather watch Spongebob Squarepants all day than do most things. It made it on to the list because we really just did spend 45 minutes watching season two. Don't judge. It is a fantastic show.

2. Make onion dip and drink copious Rockstar energy drinks.

These are also activities I've done today in lieu of my reading. I enjoy both for different reasons. The onion dip means that a) I have company, because who makes onion dip for themselves? and b)I am satisfying others, because really, I make pretty damn delicious onion dip. I like making people happy. The Rockstar part is more "for me". Functioning at high levels of caffenation tricks my brain into thinking I am more productive because I am not falling asleep in my book. However, most of the time, I just get so wound up I end up having a dance party... by myself... at 2 a.m.

3. Clean Party Cake ice cream off the counters.

It gets EVERYWHERE and never comes off ANYTHING.

4. Shop.

I usually don't like shopping at all. But suddenly Wal Mart is like Willy Wonka's fucking factory and I've won the golden ticket!

5. Light myself on fire.

I realize this list just took a turn for the drastic. And I probably would immediately regret lighting myself on fire. On the other hand, the long term repercussions might mean NEVER having to read this book at all. So that would be cool. Painful and absolutely beyond horrible. But totally the silver lining.

6. Clean the liter box WITH MY BARE HANDS.

I am cat sitting the roomie's cats this weekend and MAN, do they poop a great deal. I have cleaned the liter box A LOT and it is just the most unpleasant task I could imagine. Remove the handy dandy liter shovel and it would be a million times worse. But I would do it for the reward of a Mertical Art-less night.

7. Have explosive diarreah. For days. (contributed by Elizabeth R. Thanks lady!)

I don't feel that this one needs explanation.

8. Have a violent encounter with a flock of angry chickens.

This has actually happened to me. When I was in third grade, I was on a school field trip to Waterloo Village, a delightful recreation of early Colonial American settlements. I was eating my lunch at the outdoor picnic area when I heard rustling and muted clucks in the distance. Suddenly, in a cloud of smoke and fire, a flock of angry chickens came cresting over the mountain and formed an angry chicken cluster under my picnic bench, forcing me to stand on the table in my awesome saddle shoes, holding my PBJ as high as possible, screaming for mercy.

And I would do it again.

9. Have the cat sneeze in my ear repeatedly.

This already happened today. It was disgusting and did not in any way negate the amount of work I have to do. On a related note, what is WRONG with this animal? I have never met a cat that sneezes as much as this one. It is just constant. I am concerned. And I wish it would turn its face or something before it sneezed right in my ear canal.

10. Write blog posts about things I'd rather do than read Metrical Art.

Damn skippy!

Really wish that had worked out.

It's a Gas!

So... graduate school is HARD.

BUT, it is also really awesome! I am not used to being legitimately excited about everything I have to do during the day. And now I am!... excepting the homework bit. I am not too excited about the one metric ass ton of reading I have to do (as I clearly don't do it) but even that is not so bad, because at least it is (mostly) stuff I am really interested in knowing.

In regard to not doing homework, I really did NOT do much with myself today. And I have decided that it is okay. Sometimes, a day of tooling around, watching "School of Rock" and eating mass amounts of Cocoa Crunchies is a completely necessary thing. In more productive news I did see some friends AND 2 Henry IV which was a touch of the brilliant and made my Falstaff crush about 8 times worse than it already was.

But perhaps the most AMAZING thing I have learned thus far is (drumroll in your mind)...

HOW TO PUMP MY OWN GAS!

People here are genuinely amazed at the fact that this is something I have never done before in my life so, just to catch everybody up, DEAR WORLD, IT IS ILLEGAL TO PUMP YOUR OWN GAS IN NEW JERSEY. LOVE, LIZ. Before moving, I thought this was a nifty, convenient thing about my home state but I was dead wrong. It takes markedly less time and general frustration to pump one's own gas. No waiting, no rude gas attendants. It's a good time. And, thanks to the wonderful and caring people I have come to know here, I did not Zoolander-explode my car, which was a big fear.

So here's to the best gas I have ever gotten in my life!

In closing, school is good, pumping gas is quickly becomming a new favorite past time, and I leave you all with this hi-LARIOUS doodle I did the other day, on accident:

"What's that you say? A pheasant? In the larder??"

That is what he is saying in my head. In a poncy, British accent. Do it. Dooooo it.

Hope it gave you as much of a chuckle as it continues to give me.