I'm sitting in the kitchen, looking at the sad and lonely oranges that I have provided for the non-existent Orioles. I refuse to give up but the chances grow slimmer every day. The wife is sick of my orange and bird bath rituals. I say to her she knows not what she is saying. I tried some grape jelly, too but that didn't help. I did attract some ants but that doesn't count. At least I should get a few hummingbirds out of this deal sometime during the warmer months.
No offense to all the other beautiful birds hanging out in our yard. They are much appreciated.... but, they are not the elusive Baltimore Oriole.
None of the other birds appear interested in the oranges or jelly but they do seem to continue their love fest with the bird bath. I don't think anyone else is hogging the Orioles in our neighborhood. I think they must be somewhere else, like the next town over. I'll shit on myself when one finally lands on the bird feeder. Someday. Someday they will arrive and I'll shit.
On another note, it's come to my attention that the Wife is NOT reading my blog. Well, not that I can tell. She's not on Facebook and she's not blogging. So, I say all is fair and I'm going to write about her all I want. Maybe I'll start posting photos. That'll teach her. Heh heh.
I will tell you that she is currently completing a "safe driver" course on line right now. That's what happens when you don't stop fully at a stop sign. I can tell she is NOT enjoying it. I still think it's a great idea because if she can go for a specified time of year, the ticket will magically disappear off her record. No more teasing me when I come to a full and complete stop.
In my work world, I've been assigned to be a project manager for new software development and implementation. This may or may not sound like something I would do; after all, I was an art major and am a counselor by trade. I have no formal education on using computers. That said, I am a huge nerd and like this kind of stuff. I had the opportunity to do the same thing (albeit without being the official project manager) but this time it's different. I'm really trying to not be a bitch about the whole thing. A kinder, gentler approach is in the works. I've been watching videos and reading manuals all weekend. I had a rocky start to the project, but that's because I was nervous, not incompetent. Now that the first meeting is out of the way and I've had time to dig into the "stuff," I'm ready for tomorrow's meeting.
This time, I won't hand out the wrong agenda. I'll also sit so I can actually hear the conference call.
The allergens in the air are off the chart these days. Although the trees are amazingly beautiful, they've set my sinuses ablaze and my eyes a-watering. I love this time of year but do not enjoy the allergies that accompany the beauty. I take OTC meds but they seem to have given up.
Maybe the Orioles are having allergies, too and they'll show up once the trees are done blooming.
As a public service announcement, I suggest you check out "The Shut Up Sisters" if you have a child with mental illness, you are a teacher for students with IEPs or you cross paths with kids in public. We saw them speak yesterday and found them to be fabulous. They are a hoot. The idea is that imperfection is perfection when it comes to kids, encouraging proud but braggy parents to "shut up about your perfect kid." It's the "movement of imperfection." Who doesn't love that? It sounds kind of mean, that shut up word, but it's really not. It's real. It's life. It's imperfectly perfect. They have a website, a blog, a book and a fabulous FB page. They travel the globe spreading their message. Chek out www.shutupabout.com
As for the government, I have nothing whatsoever to say that might be even remotely constructive, so I'll skip that topic except to encourage use of RESIST via text. Yes, if you text RESIST to 50409, faxes will be sent to your legislators. It is super-easy, it's free, it's therapeutic and it's effective. I'm so pissed about health care and all those ridiculous men making decisions for women's health that I have to do something and texting is complimentary to the hate mail I send.
So far, the FBI or Homeland Security hasn't shown up at my door, demanding to meet the crazed woman who sends hate mail to Republicans. Of course, now that I including this in my blog, I'll probably get a visit. Boy, will they be disappointed.
Perhaps they'll be able to tell me where the Orioles are hiding. Maybe there is some secret tracking device on our house that emits vibes scaring the Orioles away. Maybe it's the microwave sending out bird-alienating beams, keeping every Oriole in the neighborhood far away.
Bird alienating beams. I like that. I'm going to start a RESIST movement about that.
Maybe they are illegal alien birds and they've been sent back to Mexico or whatever country them came from after their winter holiday. That certainly would explain everything. I'm not sure where to send a text about that but I'm sure some hate mail will feel therapeutic.
I end with 50409. RESIST. I'm resisting. I'm texting. I'm project managing. I'm birding. (I'm sneezing.) RESIST with me....
....And, shut up about your perfect birds if the Orioles are in your yard. I don't wanna hear it.
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Shut up, indeed.
Shut Up about Your Perfect Gift
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