Sometimes I wish that we still lived in the days where people were given last name's based on what they did, or what their father did. Can you imagine? Then you'd have names like Bone Bloggerman. And perhaps my son would be named something like Isosceles Bloggerson. Or Blerdson. But alas, it is not to be.
Well, I have ants in my truck. Discovered them tonight on my way to dinner. So I'm driving down the highway trying to smash them with an old check stub (the only piece of paper I could find), and I keep swerving off the road and into the other lane. Have you ever smashed an ant, then smelled it? It has a very odd, distinct smell. Try it sometime. Anyhow, I figure they must have gotten in there from some of the boxes when I was moving. Never had ants in my vehicle before. So, I guess there's only one thing to do. Sell my truck. Tomorrow.
It only gets better... or worse...
While running at the track yesterday, it was almost dusk and a very pleasant evening. I noticed a flock of birds lining up on the powerlines high above my head. I started wondering what they thought of all these people so far down below. And then I wondered if birds ever purposely tried to-- SPLAT!!! Ewwwww! I've been hit! On my left ear. Stupid ornithological hellions! So as I continued running, I was trying to wipe my ear clean with my shirt. As luck would have it, there were hotties all over the track, and a couple were fast approaching. I can only imagine trying to flirt with them in my current predicament:
"Come here often?"
"Leave me alone."
"Maybe I could call you sometime and we could go for a run together."
"Get away from me."
"What? Is it the bird crap on my ear? Is that what it is? Oh, I guess Miss Fancy Pants Runner Girl has never been crapped on by a bird. Well, aren't you special?!"
So, I guess there's only one thing to do. Go Picasso on my ear.
Never fear, however. I'm not going to let a little fowl matter in my auditory canal bring me down. Over the past few months, I don't know what it is, but I have been in this really happy place. Life has truly been good. Or maybe this is what comes with maturity, and learning to be content with my situation, rather than let my situation dictate my mood. I would like to think that. Whatever it is, it has been really nice. Of course, once I run out of heroin, things could be quite different.
Oh, I scheduled my second massage for Thursday afternoon. I can't wait! I'm addicted!
OK, I'm off to find some Q-tips... and a sharp paring knife :-)
"Please don't make me answer you. The world is big but my circles are small. And please don't try to shut me out. I'm in love, that's all..."
I'm sure you are still cute even with bird poop in your ear! Funny stories! I think I can honestly say I've never smelled a squished ant before. What on earth possessed you to do that?
ReplyDelete:-) <- See that smiley face? That was me after reading this post. Sorry for the bird crap bit - but it could have been worse. I had it land on the top of my head while I was shopping in a outdoor nursery- and I had been previously been flirting with one of the workers. The splat and feeling of warm goo got me running to the car so fast!
ReplyDeleteI'm happy that you're happy! Life is good, isn't it? Sometimes I need a reminder - especially when things get overwhelming. Thanks for the reminder! :-)
Have fun this afternoon during your massage!!!!
Carnealian: I'm not sure. Try it sometime. It's definitely different.
ReplyDeleteCindy: Glad it made you smile. That should be my motto: Letting birds crap on my head to brighten your day. Please feel free to share your own bird poop stories here.
Yes, life is fun for most. Seems like I read that somewhere ;-)
Crys: Ha ha ha! That is priceless. Looks as if my pseudo-intellectual facade has been destroyed. I thought about going back and changing it, but I think it's funnier to leave it.
Blonde: Yes, we are curious. I think it's OK to kiss her, as long as she's hot.
Lass: Well, I do need a bike, regardless. I thought about getting a motorcycle, too. If you're going to whisper in my ear, I would advise doing so only in the right one for awhile ;-)
A guinea pig for massage therapists in training... hmm. I think I like this idea! And by massage therapists in training, I mean, cute female massage therapists in training.
Gotta love happy places and bird shit! LoL
ReplyDeleteHow did you find contentment? I would love to find it too!
In Iceland, your last name is determined by your father's first name. For instance, my friend's father's name is Haldor. My friend's name is Koni Haldorsson (as in Haldor's son). If he had a girl, the last name would become Haldorsdotter (unsure of the spelling).
ReplyDeleteErica: Just learning to be content and happy with what I can't really change. Also, I'm sure the massages don't hurt ;-)
ReplyDeleteShane: I wonder if he's kin to Steve Haldorsson... Eh, it's probably like Smith or Jones over there.