flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

May 10, 2007

Dispatches from the Merry Old Land of Odd

John and I took a day off together yesterday. I know, what were we thinking? We actually have something to talk about after 14 years?! Dropped the kids off late, picked them up early, but in between, we went for a celebratory lunch.

We were prematurely celebrating the demise of the rat-dog that lives next door. That pooch has pooped in my yard for the last 11 years, bitten both of my children, and been a general menace to society. After 4 hours of not hearing the daggone thing yap, I thought it might be gone. 24 hours later, no bark, still! Party time!

Oh, Hope Dashed! Nothing is more bitter than having a prize sought, won, then ripped from your grasping hands. He must have been off to the vet, or dog-from-hell training, or something, because he was back last night. (Side note – John swears that Hitler’s dogs are in hell. I say you can’t blame the dog for the master. What think you?)

In the interim of our glee, we went to
Le Bec Fin. Whoa Doggie. Since we never go out anymore, it was a great time for us, and they had foods and spices that even John has never tried. (Purple mustard? Orange peppercorns from the south of France?) It was awesome. But, in my father’s tradition (he always got the cherry pit), I got a bone in my fish. I always get the bone in the fish. It’s one of the few things I know I inherited from Dad. Thanks, Pop. Couldn’t you have made me an athlete, instead?


One final note from the land of Odd… typing in Word or any other app, I notice that sometimes I do use the little buttons at the top of the screen. The blank page means new page, obviously. The opening folder means open something. But the next button on my screen is the button for SAVE. It’s a floppy disk. Question for ya – do today’s youts even know what a floppy disk is?! Not even 25 years old, and it’s an anachronism.




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