9 posts tagged “world”

Some possible sorta good news on the bird-in-the-wall front.  We know that the bird entered from a 3rd floor exhaust vent.  In communicating the "haps" to the condo board, I have an email convo with my upstairs neighbor. She says....

 

I've been in touch with (maintainence) a few times this week. He finally got up on the roof yesterday and said he could see a lot of bird droppings around, but no evidence of a nest in any of my vents. Meanwhile, the noises I'm hearing from inside have gotten quieter (like maybe there's only one bird left now...?) but I'm still definitely hearing rustling and squawking noises on a regular basis.

 

I fill her in with my last 36 hours of bird-fueled fun.

 

Hmmm. As late as this morning, I was still hearing a scratching noise. What I heard initially on Saturday/Sunday was definitely outside/on the roof/in the duct work, but the past couple of days, it has sounded more like it's inside the wall. I thought it was just a trick of how the sound was carrying, though, because all of my noises have been very isolated in the furnace closet area. Rebecca, perhaps you haven't heard it for the past day or so because it's flown back up inside my wall again. It definitely sounds like it's going to be an unlucky situation for one of us. I guess we'll know soon enough...

 

 

So, who knows?  Maybe it did climb up and out of my wall...and into her wall.  Is it wrong to hope for that?  I mean, she's right...it's more than likely that one of us is going to get screwed on this deal.  I feel bad hoping that it's not me that has to deal with the aftermath of BirdGate 2008. 

Unless that bird is at least 30% "Stuart Little" and will stop at nothing to get back home...two shall enter...and one shall have to have summer construction in her unit!  Oof.

Sunday...11:00 am.  Sound of heavy, rapid scratching detected in wall.  Immediately go into denial.

Sunday....10:00pm.   Release denial and realise that there is, indeed, some form of life stuck in my wall. 

Monday....10:00am.  Inform Management company of situation.   Wait for Pest Control company to contact and set up "evaluation of pest incident." Take day off from work to wait for Pest Control company.

Monday...3:00pm.  Finally confirm that Pest company can not make it out until following day.

Monday...11:00pm.  36 hours after "first contact", scratching sound fainter.  Conclude that animal is dying.  No further sounds from wall.

Tuesday....1:00pm.   Pest Control company arrives promptly and on time.  No sound/movement detected.  Exterior third floor vent is discovered as point of entry.  Pest Control believes 99.9% that beastie would be a bird.

 

Now.  We wait.  There is a 50/50 chance that the "bird" found it's way out.  Or it has already expired.  Which means we wait until 1) I can smell the rotting decay of the beastie and 2) the insects drawn to the rotting corpse lay their larvae which will hatch and I will then find flies all over my place.  This should take about 7-8 days to complete it's cycle.  If I detect rotting or bugs, then they open the wall, remove the carcass, delouse the wall and then have to redrywall...and I get to paint my bathrooom.

 

While I was completely grossed out at the idea of some rodent birthing it's little rodent spawn in my wall, I'm gagging at the idea of the decomposing/larvae/flies scenario.

 

Let's all hope that Mr. Pigeon got out and flew home to safety.    And that he's dancing with Bert.   (okay...I couldn't find that clip...so this will have to do.)

 

 

In the meantime, I'll be belatedly celebrating IFSFY day...and trying to keep my perspective on yet another glorious chapter in homeownership.

 

 

 

I can't get this song out of my head.

 

So, it's not in my kitchen...it's IN THE WALL.  And I'm not sure it's a rat.  More likely, it's a squirrel.  How it got inside my freaking wall remains a mystery.  I've put a call into the management company and am waiting for a call back while they set up some kind of pest removal company to come over and...remove the pest.

 

The thing is, I feel sorry for the squirrel (I can't deal with the picture of an actual rat, possum, raccoon or other mammal/rodent in there)...but, I want it the hell out of my house.  The longer it's in there, the more it thrashes around.  The more it thrashes around, slamming around and scratching at the wall, the more Olive is flipping out.  The more Olive flips out, the more stress is settling in my back.

It will settle down and be quiet for like 20-30 minutes at a stretch...and then it goes berserker.  Which makes me jump.  Listening to an animal try to claw it's way through your drywall is a bit unnerving, to say the least.

 

More than once, I've addressed the animal, "Dude!  Shut up!  I'm sorry you're scared out of your peanut brain, but you are freaking me out!"  

 

I am not a girly girl.  I could care less about Jimmy Choo shoes and I couldn't tell you what's the haps on Grey's Anatomy.  I can't remember the last time I hand a manny/peddy (although I could use both)...I still have a real streak of tomboy in my veins.  So, it's a complete humiliation to me, that if I am alone and I see a mouse (years ago, I had a mice situation in another apt thanks to the tenent below me moving out and leaving his place trashed), I scream like a little girl.

To some extent, I'm having that same reaction now.  For what is a squirrel, but a really big freaking mouse.  A possibly rabid mouse - that's half the size of Olive.  And it's Trying. To. Get. Me.

 

Uh...crap.  I just had a flashback to college when I dropped LSD during a late class and then, during my walk home across campus, when it started to peak, I was convinced that a squirrel was chasing me across campus. 

 

{sounds of scratching}

 

I fear, this day shall not end well. 

Ravin just celebrated (sorta) a birthday.  I failed in my attempts to find the perfect picture of a puppy in a party hat (at least the way I pictured it in my head), but I did come across this vid, which is close enough to the mark to make it worthwhile to dedicate to him.

Many happy returns, my friend.

 

While there are many skateboarding canines out there...there is only one that kicks it Tony Hawk style.

 

 

 

You had no doubt, it was a Jack Russell Terrier, did you?    Man!  Olive's asleep under the covers.  I should wake her up and find out why her lazy ass isn't making me some dime!  I've been carrying her for 9 years...that bitch. 

 

Happy Belated, Ravin!

As much as this might have been a "bit", it transcended the joke and really is just a lovely version of the anthem.  Is it too much to hope Obama might have them sing this at his inauguration? 

 

 

Or....at the World Series?

This morning I was driving into work (late) and caught an interview on WLUP with Alec Greven, a 3rd grade student in Denver, who penned the  homework assignment, How To Talk To Girls, which was later turned into a book sold at the school book fair.  It might sound a bit silly, but really, the kid had a lot of simple insight into how boys can talk to, befriend and at some point (namely middle school), "date" girls.  But really, he says it's more about how to just make a girl like you.

 

In seven very brief chapters, Alec addresses the issue of crushes and how to deal with them.  He says, "How to Talk to Girls is kind of like a theory" based on his observations, mostly on the school playground.  The book also addresses what to do if you are a class clown or shy.  From the book:

 

Chapter 3: Crushes  - It is very hard to get a girl to like you. Sometimes it takes years to get a girl to like you. Girls can get crushes on boys. (Tip: How to get a girl to like you, talk to them and get to know them.) Sometimes, show off your skills, like playing soccer. Anything that you are good at.

 

From the radio interview, he talked about the three kinds of girls he observed: pretty girls (who wear fancy earrings, fancy dresses and have a lot of fancy shoes, in his words "a high maintaince girl"), regular girls and wild girls (hyperactive and loud.)  His says many boys get crushes on pretty girls, but his advice is to stick with a regular girl, "Sometimes you get a girl to like you and then she ditches you. Tip: about 73 percent of regular girls ditch boys, 93 percent of pretty girls ditch boys."  He's quick to state that these stats reflect specifically, his school, but that worldwide stats may differ.

 

 

He's inspired a few girls at his school to write a companion peice - two are working on How To Talk To Boys, and a third is penning How to Get on a Boy's Nerves...which if you ask me, sounds like a possible grade school primer of The Rules.

Even more admirable, you can now order the book via his school (and only there.)  All of the proceeds are going towards breast cancer research, heart disease research, a children's hospital and a new track at his school - per Alec's belief that when people make money, they should only keep a little for themselves to live and give the rest to folks who need it.

 

 

 

On the flip side...a bunch of 3rd graders plotted to harm their teacher.

A group of 3rd graders plotted to attack their teacher, bringing a broken steak knife, handcuffs, duct tape and a crystal paperweight for the job and assigning children tasks including covering the windows and cleaning up afterward, police said Tuesday.

 

Wow.  If that's not the mob mentality at work...  Most of the nine kids involved claimed they thought it was a joke and didn't think it was really going to happend (these are 8 and 9 year old boys and girls), but four of them actually brought that stuff in, whether due to peer pressure of if they were really gearing to throw down. 

 

 

When I was in 3rd grade, all I wanted to do was ride my bike and catch bugs.  The world has changed, yo.  The world has changed.

I just read that Obama wrote that speech himself.

Not a consulant, not a speech writer. He did it himself. 

 

According to the Library of Congress the last time this occured was back in October of 1969 (Nixon's "Silent Majority" speech.)   We've had a lot of Presidents have the ability to "sell" the speech they are giving...and I'm sure they usually look it over, perhaps tweak it here and there and make sure they agree with what they are about to read...but in the last 38 years, they generally stopped writting their own words and putting their own ideas on paper.

 

And then last week, Obama wrote his own damn speech. 

 

Think about it.  Whether the speech impacted you postively or negatively, those were his own words chosen with thought.  Usually, when a pol uses his own words...it usually is an off the cuff remark that lands them in hot water.

 

 

 

Speaking of hot water...Happy Anniversary George.  FIVE YEARS IN IRAQ.  You've decimated a country and turned it into rubble.  Five years later, no infrastructure, no real democratic process, the death toll continues upwards...and all of your illconceived plans ran our economy, our country, and all of the global good will we had into the ground.  And then you wiped your feet on the Constitution for good measure.

 

I'm not normally of fan of slam poetry, the cadence disconnects me, but this poem, this angry, awkward cadence is what I feel inside my veins when I let the words, FIVE YEARS IN IRAQ into my brain.

Today is the first day of spring.  Yesterday when I walked Olive, I saw a bit of green grass peeking up. Spring. Renewal. Hope. There is something almost allegorical about the fact that we are about to be hit with 8 inches of snow tonight. 

 

Anyone who checks in here regularly knows my stance on voting.  If I haven't made it clear, I'm firmly on the Obama bandwagon.  I still have the faded remnant of his Senate campaign sticker on my bumper and even though nobody can tell what it once was, it's a reminder to me.  For a short time, I was on the fence.  The 2000 (and the 2004) election jolted a lot of folks, and my pause came from wanting to "make sure" the country's administration does not continue on it's current path.  I've watched our Constitution get battered and abused instead of interpreted and improved upon. Instead of voting with my heart and mind, I was readying myself to vote (again) from a place of fear/anger and resignation. 

 

 

People have an idea of what America is...and it is completely reflective of their lives and/or dreams.  In truth, there are many Americas.  Race, gender, class, age, sexual orientation, religion, education, opportunities - there are so many aspects that can color one's perspective of "what America is..."  Ask someone who lived through Katrina what America is.  Ask someone who lost a loved one in Iraq what America is.  Ask a student who is trying to pay for college what America is.  We live in a complex and complicated world.  One where it is easy to let fear, insecurity and selfish interests lead your words and plans.  Some things we do in our country's name, we should be proud of.  Other things we do, we are in the wrong and accountable for.  I love this country the way I love my family.  I love them unconditionally.  At times, they inspire me with their good deeds, support and wisdom....and sometimes I am felled by their prejudices and anger.

 

All this thinking led to the decision that I needed to make a list.  A list of the qualities I would want in a President. 

 

I want a person who can inspire a nation, both by word and deed. 

I want someone who is willing to admit mistakes and learn from them.

I want someone that will make other countries look at America and want to work with us towards a better, peaceful and prosperous global future.

I want someone rational, logical and centered. 

I want someone who can speak without stumbling. 

I want someone to represent all of us and not just some of us. 

I want someone with a sense of self and a sense of humor.

 

I got on the Obama bandwagon a while back, but when I heard the speech Obama gave in Philadelphia this week, it made me realise that it really is possibe to vote without fear.  To reach out and create the change you seek. If you haven't seen the speech (or have only seen edited clips), I highly recommend watching the full video online or reading the transcript. 

 

I see an opportunity.  Not just to change the administration.  Not just to change policy or start the process to end the war...but a chance.  A chance to vote with my mind and my heart.  Without fear.

 

 

And as we humans are silly reflective creatures, I realised after making my list and re-reading it, that I want those qualities to describe myself.  I don't think they do.  Not really.  I mean, I'm a  decent person, I'm good to my friends and family and I try to help other folks out when I can, but I think I stumble more in word and deed, than inspire myself. 

 

So, as our country marches forth towards this election and I leave my fear behind, perhaps I can move towards improving my own quality.  It's worth a shot.

It's 2am and I can't sleep.  I'm having one of those nights where I lie here and worry about the world. Not my world, the whole big blue marble.  Last week a terrible thing happened and then another terrible thing happened and terrible things keep happening every day, every hour, every minute.

 

At times, it's hard to be hopeful for humanity...and yet...if we have the capacity for this, there must always be hope.