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.

August 23, 2007

For F’s Sake, Will You Die Already?

One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies.


How is it that Elliot Smith, indie god that he was, is still releasing new tunes 4 years post mortem? This is getting as ridiculous as Tupac and Big E back in the day.


I’m quite stunned at how different my boys are sometimes. Digging through my hard drive, I came across a bunch of songs that I recorded when Stinky was little. It’s funny as a crutch to hear him singing “prince awi” from Aladdin.

Moth, though a much more gregarious kid (and a better singer), has never done that. He sings when he’s playing with his trains (“accidents happen” usually, though “ymca” and the “brady bunch” themesong are recent contenders) and when he’s pooping (don’t ask. I don’t know.), but not when he’s just hanging out. And he won’t sing for me to record. Stinker.


School starts for me next week. My last course before student teaching. I’m feeling myself pull away from Spaceley’s, and it will be a pull. As much as the company feeling has stunk in the past 18 months, I love the people I work with. It’s been a good 10 years.

I also have started having nightmares. This always happens to me when I have a big change coming. I have to ground myself – what’s the worst that can happen? I don’t get a job in January, just student teach, and that will be stressful financially. No doubt. But we can make it through. But in the dark of the night, I’m terrified. What if I’m making a mistake?

Somehow, writing it here has exposed this fear for what it is: nonsensical. It’ll all be fine. I’m so excited to go teach kids. It’s going to be so much different than what I’m doing now. And it will be fine.

Sometimes, I’m too much like my mother. (Most times, though, I’m not enough like her. Now, isn’t that a strange dichotomy?)


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August 21, 2007

Rainy Days

It's rained here for the last 3 days. So, I had to go to the gym this morning. No running in the dark/rain for clumsy old me.

At the gym, because I need to be totally distracted from exercise, I read a book and watch TV at the same time. (And I've read some lovely books lately. Check out my amazon reviews. The chair one, especially!! Anyhow...)

As I've mentioned before, this is how I'm exposed to new music - watching videos at the gym at 5am. However, it's also how I'm exposed to commercials. We, the bird clan, have TiVO.

This morning's commercials were great. The first confirmed the name of a tech school we passed when we were going to the Renaissance Faire last week. We passed the
Universal Technological Institute. We joked - who'd want to go to UTI?! Well, the commercial this morning almost had me convinced I'd want to. Except, I remember that feeling of having to pee all the time, feeling like someone stuck a hot poker up my urethra when I did pee, and drinking all the nasty cranberry juice. So, I'll skip UTI, thanks.

The second commercial had a guy watching a live baseball game. He finished his drink. So he hit PAUSE on his TV (he has TiVO, too!), went to his kitchen, and got another soda. The baseball players on the paused tv were arguing about the potential outcome of their play. He finished his Pepsi, hit play, and finished watching the game (probably fast forwarding through the commercials!). I can't believe an ad exec for Pepsi was practically pushing TiVO. Weird.

And now, I'm playing with Stinky, since his camp is over. We made a paper boat, covered it in wax, and he sailed it to the drain. No clown invited him to float, however. Thank goodness.


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August 14, 2007

Views From My World - Part Whatever

Spaceley’s is trudging along as it has for the last two years. I continue to have nightmares about the place, especially now that we have a new cowboy on staff that counters every decision I make. I’m beginning to feel like the guy in office space that has 8 different bosses. But time is running down now, and I’ll have all new frustrations soon. Yipee!

One of the guys that used to work for me often comes to me for advice. Today, he brought over an email he had received. It seems he is one of 2500 random winners of an International Lottery – prize of 1000000 pounds. He had to have his financial advisor in London contact the lottery people – overseas phone numbers provided – in order to begin his claim.

He asked me if it was real. I guess there really is one born every minute.


Sunday, at my husband’s suggestion, the family flocked to the
Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire. If you’ve never been – it’s a big area (a few fields of a farm) that has been laid out like a renaissance market. Well, not really, but that’s the idea. This one has about a dozen different stages where there are acrobats, magicians, musicians, bards, fighters, sword-swallowers, trained animals, and loads of other exhibitions. Between stages, there are lots of vendors – food and wares – and some more permanent things like games, rides (not electrical), a big jousting field, and other spectacles (like a fully equipped and documented dungeon and a castle). Meanwhile, there are all sorts of folks ambling about – some work for the faire, some have paid admission just like you – who are dressed in full costume and greet others with “God save thee…” etc

My husband, being a fan of both Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Garden State, has quite a cynical outlook on people in costume. He just could not turn it off. He rolled his eyes as I cheered on our jouster (who went by the appropriate nickname: Bull!). He refused to get excited when we saw the Queen (just a glimpse, actually). He barely tolerated the really funny magician. He totally blew my experience.

What’s worse is that my impressionable boys look to him for how to act. So when Sean started to get into the joust, when he saw Daddy roll his eyes and ask if we could leave, he decided to act the same. We didn’t even stay for the main event:

It was totally unfaire.


Finally, two pieces of info for some of my fellow bloggers.

Cube had posted something about sending stuff to Mars, and I asked if Mars Attacks! was sent. I commented that Slim Whitman saves the world in Mars Attacks! She was not impressed.

Well, Cube, when I was a kid, there was this telemercial for Slim Whitman’s Greatest Hits. My brother Ron was in college at the time (I’m too young to really remember). Apparently, my father and other brother (John) went out to pick up elder son from uni, and they were chatting on the way back. Ron asked if John and Dad had seen the really annoying infomercial on telly – this awful man who yodeled. Who on earth, he concluded, would spend hard-earned cash on such crap?

My father, of course, had purchased the album, and it was one of his favorites. (and, apparently, he was not alone.
Wikipedia has “All My Best” as the best selling TV-marketed record in music history. Take that, Christy Lane!*)

For Minka, someone sent me this trivia tic-tac-toe that reminds me of your Thursday special. It’s quite addictive!

(*Just for you, Mary.
Your very own blast-from-the-past earworm.)


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August 10, 2007

An Earworm For You

I like YouTube. I like it a lot. But every once in a while, something so evil is posted there, that you feel like you just have to share it.

Don't say I didn't warn you!


August 08, 2007

Murder In Rich Suburb

The news was crawling with it Monday morning. A man had been shot to death in his own bed in his UnBelievably Affluent Philadelphia Suburbian home. "You see, you suburbanites," they seemed to say, "you aren't immune to the gun violence that plagues our city!"

Except... Tuesday's front headline had a bit of a different spin.

"Did Montco Slaying Victim Have Two Wives?"

It ends up that Jereleigh Morton, the victim, was about to take a second trip to Morocco to pick up his new wife. He had only returned to the US without her becuase his wife #1 was ill. Wife #1 admitted that her husband convinced her (forced her to accept that) it was her religious duty to accept a second wife in the family. Especially now that the family could afford it.

You see, their teenaged daughter died a few years ago of mis-diagnosed Krohn's disease. Even though she was only a daughter, she was still worth $14million in malpractice court. Which was how this West Philadelphia handyman came to buy an estate a year ago.

I guess he brought the Philly Gun Violence with him. Or, maybe his downtrodden wife decided that a second wife is not acceptable, after all? Even if the Koran says it's ok? I'm sure, now that this is revealed as a mixed religious / city problem, it will lose its space on the front page.

The rest of Montco sleeps easily tonight, knowing there's not a murderer on the rampage.



August 03, 2007

Three avian tales

6 vs. 36

Stinky is a big Harry Potter fan. He has been reading the books (or, rather, Dad has been reading them to him) and is in the midst of Prisoner of Azkaban. He has watched the first four movies. And, because he’ll never have another chance, I took him to a Harry Potter party the night of the Deathly Hallows release.

Through all the promotional stuff, he’s wanted to try the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans that Jelly Belly has made. I’ve said NO.

Well, I was in the store last week, and they had a box (little one) on the 50% off rack. Among the flavors are sausage, sardine, grass, dirt, earthworm, vomit, rotten egg, soap, booger, earwax. There are some normal ones, too, but good god. Anyhow. I broke down and bought one box.

Sean and I tried at least a nibble of each disgusting flavor. Oh, my god. They were revolting. I’m spitting and chewing gum trying to get over the flavor. Stinky? He’s saying YUKK but loving every minute of it. Maybe it’s because he’s a boy. Maybe it’s because he’s almost 7. But he certainly had fun, being grossed out.


So, I was watching some special on Elton John the other night (I still love his tunes. Find a better song than “Holiday Inn”. I dare you.) and I noted something weird. Every pop star they interviewed had to wear shades. What’s up with that? Sunglasses in the dark, the light, the decent lighting. Sunglasses all of the time. Why are they so afraid of people seeing their eyes? Afraid the window to the soul might show nobody’s home? I thought it mighty strange, anyhow.

And on the music front, if you’ve heard of Blackfield and like or dislike them, drop me a note. I have one song of theirs from a music journal I get, and they seem really cool. But before I drop $$ on them… reviews?


And a Mothman chronicle, for your dubious enjoyment. Tim has got all the charisma that his father, mother, and brother are lacking. It’s like we stored it up and gave it to him. Wherever he goes, he’s the center of all the kids. Well, John took them to the pool the other night (as they do almost every night), and Mothy hooked up with a new group of peeps. He was trying to get one little girl’s attention, but didn’t know her name.

“Hey, friend! Friend? Look at this, friend!”

Now, that’s a healthy outlook on life, no? Must be all the church we take him to. Of course, we haven’t been going this summer, because he’s a bit too loud, and there’s no Sunday school in the summer. So he asks, every week, “Can we go to church?” We decided to go to church last week. We went to the 8:30, because it’s shorter (no tunes) and the kids don’t have to sit still as long.

About halfway through the service, Tim started getting very upset.

“Where’s the toys?!” he ‘whispered’ to me.

Apparently, since he was only 3 last year, he got to play with toys during church school. Well, hey. When we went to leave, he looked up at me with a delightful glower. “I wanna go to play church. Not this church.”

So, we’re back to waiting til September to go back to church.


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