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.

July 31, 2010

What is it with Pennsylvania and spelling...

We went up to Harvey County again this weekend. We have a guest from New York with us, and we wanted to show him what the country looks like. We pointed out some of the interesting things about pennsyltucky. Like that there's a town called Jersey Shore - completely landlocked. That a lot of the towns borrowed names, like Bethlehem, York, Indiana, California, and even Mars. We didn't go into the whole Lancaster sitch, where you have Intercourse, somewhere between Blue Ball and Paradise. He's only 8. I hope he wouldn't understand.

As we were driving, we passed Keyser avenue. Keyser like geyser. Why didn't they spell it Kaiser? I don't know.

When we arrived at the ancestral seat, my mom showed me a book. The book was by a guy who used to write for the local paper - interest stories and silly stories - and lo and behold, he pointed out a sign to go to "Kaiserville". Except, he and all the people up in Harvey County know that it's spelled Keiserville. (but not Keyserville, of course not!!) Why on earth wouldn't the sign makers know that us NEPA folk would never have a town named after our old enemy, Kaiser Wilhelm!

So, I was completely confused. We spell kaiser every way, except the proper one. John noted my frustration and shook his head. Then he turned to me and said, "Let's talk."

I looked at him, even more confused. We never talk.

"about taxidermy!"

We gotta stop going up there so often. I tell ya, it's not good!

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July 17, 2010

Girl Power? Not so much

So, I think I put up a pretty good "beyotch" image. I don't look like I would be a push over, I don't think.

But when it comes to dealing with psycho, mad, strange men, I'm a wuss.

Today, I was walking home from the library. I passed a parking lot where this guy was standing at a pickup truck. He said, in a very loud voice, "Get the fuck out of the truck NOW." So I looked over. He was yelling at some woman in his passenger seat.

He yells at me, "Mind your own fucking business!"

Now, imaginary, she-girl me would stop, turn around, look over my sunglasses at the jerk, and say, "you talkin' to me?" Maybe shame him into less asshattery.

But the real me? I just keep walking, thinking about what I wish I had the cohones to do. Of course, He's big, I'm not. He's in steel-toed boots (in my mind), I'm in flip flops. I am, in fact, powerless.

And it's none of my business, I self-justify.

But darn it, I feel stupid and weak. I should have more spine.

We have this crazy dude in our neighborhood. Literally. He's the walking dude - spends his day walking around, muttering under his breath. One day, I was walking down the sidewalk, and I had to pass him. I said, "excuse me," as I went around.

He completely flipped. Started screaming at me, how he was going to kill me... and that was the nicest thing he said.

I got all shaky and adrenalin-ized... as I scooted away. This guy isn't big - he's maybe 5'8, maybe 200 pounds. I probably could take him in a fight. But I just kept walking.

Fight vs flight? Wish I was fight, but sadly, I'm not.

The flightless hag is, unfortunately, also a spineless one.

(*)>

July 06, 2010

Let's Talk about Taxidermy

So, John and I spent a good few days up in Harvey County. We stayed at the local inn, despite some warnings that it had been flooded and wasn't in the best of shape. It was perfect. Cool at night, hot in the daytime.

Their pool is still cold because it's so cool at night up there. We haven't gone below 70 at night, with the exception of a few days last week, since mid-May.

So, anyhow, we're driving around Harvey County and looking at the signs. They have signs and ads you'd never think of down here. "Let's talk about taxidermy" was a pretty good one. But my favorite was the one with the pretty girl touting "colon hydrotherapy."

Now, I'll bet we have that down here.

Isn't that just a fancy set of words for enema, though? And what kind of economy do we have when poor, innocent young girls are forced to give enemas to make ends meet. No pun intended.


My boys are all gone on a camping trip. It's just me and the dogs for a week. Should be interesting. I spent all day cleaning. Probably will do the same tomorrow. The day flew, but I just realized about 20 minutes ago that I haven't said a thing aloud all day... well since they left at 6.
And I probably won't talk to anyone tomorrow at all. That's just plain weird.


Wish me luck!

(*)>

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July 03, 2010

Vacation Is Here!

So I haven't updated my blog since I got a death threat. Someone reminded me of that today, so I figured I ought to post, just to show I'm alive and kicking.

School went out with a bang/whimper. I'm not teaching chemistry next year - no one is. Long story. So I get to teach earth science, and I am ecstatic!! Well, I get to teach physical science, which I'm not so hot on, but I'm rushing through physics and chem to get to earth science!! Whoot!

The boys both passed - and have been doing homework every day since school ended. Both Mom and Dad are home, poor kids... I try to make it fun, though. Math exercises are rewarded with an hour of video games or TV. They got to pick the books they're reading. We go to the zoo or something and pick out the science we'll study there. They're learning state capitals this summer, with contests. The winner, daily, gets a sweet treat. They're quite competitive.

So, we're driving up to Harvey County today for the family reunionish party. Tom Tom took us on a back back road road that I haven't hit in probably 20 years years. It goes past this one kids' camp. Stinky says, "Mom, can we go to that camp?" I answer, "Sorry, kid, that's a Catholic camp." To which Moth replies, "I know all my capitals. Can I go to the capital camp?"

He's had a series of humorous mis-hearings this year. Athlete's foot has become trumpet foot in our house. Trumpet foot. You can't make that crap up. Probably should get his ears checked, but when the outcome is so funny... well... cheap entertainment wins.

I'm writing this update while they swim at the hotel pool. We stayed in the hotel in town, though we had been warned that it wasn't so good these days - got flooded out last winter. Our room is aces, free internet access... I'll stay here again, if it still exists. Totally worth it.

And now, I'm gonna go read a book. See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya.

(*)>

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