07.13.2004 - 1:52 p.m.
I feel like I could have been more productive this past weekend. I could have, just maybe, stayed up past 9 PM, or made a tasty layered vegetarian lasagna with spinach and artichokes, or watched Spiderman 2, or learned to maneuver those ski-trainer-rollerblade things, or performed a Russian squat kick dance.
go back ::: forward
However, I did go shopping with my girl Chiara, and we did coin the term "B to the A to the MOTHERFUCKIN' T", and what's wrong with that? DAMN RIGHT, IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS.
We could teach you, but, you know, we'd have to, um, charge. And stuff.
Now the week has officially begun and frankly, I could have had a better kickoff. As I was getting ready to leave for the office yesterday morning, I was startled by a small bird suddenly winging through my living room with Cat in hot pursuit. As I watched, deeply confused, Cat somehow Matrix'd her way up the wall and chomped into the bird, landing with a thud, limp body in her jaws.
I simultaneously leaped at Cat and shook her until the bird dropped, tossed Cat out the front door, shooed Dog out the back door...then surveyed the damage.
A dun-colored trembling sparrow lay in my hallway. No blood to be seen, but it definitely wasn't going anywhere. What to do?
I fretted over various options, none of which seemed to provide a hopeful future for the sparrow, and in the end I picked up the bird carefully with a towel, and gently placed it outside, hidden in a soft pile of leaves.
Fucking Cat. I figure she must have grabbed the bird and brought it in the utility room window, which was opened by several inches. How can I keep her from our birds? I've read that putting a bell on cats is ineffectual - does anyone have any other thoughts? I could try and keep her inside but I'm pretty sure I would end up chopping her into cat-sashimi after about 5 minutes of enduring her billion decibel yowls.
SOLUTION! Cat + wood chipper = TRULUV4EVR.
When I got home, I found that the bird had disappeared and my sensitive, thoughtful husband had created a little gravestone in the backyard with the following grease-pencil inscription:
Here he/she lies
All cold and hard
The latest bird to be killed
By our cat (the retard)
It's nice looking, though, our new headstone. It's a light colored smooth granite, a small rectangular piece from the pile in my backyard that I am slowly installing as stepping stones around my vegetable garden. "But Sundry, that sort of marbled granite is terribly expensive!" you might be thinking right now, and thank goodness you are, because otherwise I don't know how to segue from this paragraph. "However did you afford it?"
Well, I salvaged it from the scene of an automobile accident that left someone injured, of course! I mean, DUH.
Sadly, I am not lying. When JB and I were at his family's cabin in Oregon two weekends ago, a truck carrying granite slabs - apparently intended for someone's kitchen and bathroom countertops - went off the road nearby. This being big news in the (extremely) rural area, we went to Check Things Out the next day, and found thousands of pieces of beautiful granite on the side of the road. I did ask around to ensure no one had died (I may be a gore-crow, but even I have my limits), then hefted as many pieces as my dirty thieving hands could carry. And now we have pretty stepping stones! And bird graves! Also, I am going to hell!