Pursuit #69: Dinosaurs with feathers

Today my coworker told me about a new TV show coming out involving 3 things:

1. Mike Tyson
2. Pigeons
3. Reality (as in a reality show)

No, this is not one of those Sesame Street games where you try to figure out which one of these things doesn't belong, because frankly none of them should fit together. I wasn't able to embed the video, but this Larry King interview with Mr. Tyson is really...intriguing. I learned that pigeon-racing is one of Mike's passions, and furthermore that it is "one of the most popular sports in the world." I would say that that last statement is a bit speculative... Also, this man has a tattoo on his face.

Yep. This is weird.

Personal Disclaimer: Birds are gross*. I had to feed some baby birds when I worked at an animal hospital in high school. They just pooped all over their cages (and on themselves) and squawked incessantly. I had to feed them eye droppers full of mushy cat food. Baby birds look freakish without all their feathers and they constantly just have their mouths open and eyes closed. Then one of the vets went out of town and left her parrot at the hospital for us to care for. Everyday the bird sang "Brat Bird" to the tune of the old Batman song and screamed "Help!" like it was dying.

When I was about 5, a mother goose chased me and hissed at me at a petting zoo because I got too close to its youngin's. I still have nightmares about that. I have also been pooped on many different times by these filthy creatures. (Some say it is a sign of good luck to be pooped on by a bird. Those people have obviously never been pooped on.) Recently a kamikaze dive-bombing bird with only half a beak attacked me and my french fries whilst dining al fresco at a restaurant in DC. I could go on. But there's your reality show - birds pooping on people, being aggressive and annoying. Isn't that the only reality about birds?

*I find toucans, penguins and puffins to be the only acceptable types.

Pursuit #68: Unanimously rejected

It's always fun to receive a rejection letter from a school you applied to, and then withdrew your application from due to receiving and accepting another school's offer.  This rejection letter was really quite moot at this juncture in time - I received my other acceptances months ago. Not to mention the fact that I WITHDREW my application from this school's pool.

But the cherry on this sundae was the wording the grad school director used, and I quote:

"Unfortunately, the committee has decided not to recommend your admission and I concur with this decision."

This strikes me as comical. As in, "The committee thought you sucked. And frankly, I think you suck too. It's really quite unanimous that you suck." Thanks? I think they're just bitter. Let the record show that I rejected them first!

Pursuit #67: Girl v. Woman

Today, a patient at the physical therapy clinic where I work said this to me:

"In here, you look like a girl. But when you are driving, you look like a woman." 

I think he's from India, so I like to think it is a great compliment in his country.
This is coming from the guy who motioned for me to move faster to give him his cold pack one day so he could leave early and go to a party at the senior center. Naturally I assume that those parties are ragin'. I bet they discuss the ladies and how they "drive."

Pursuit #66: Going to Iran. Brb.

In this blog entry I described a warp zone (aka weird place) that I visited in the city of Mclean* for laser hair removal.

Well, it truly was a warp zone after all - I just noticed on the business card provided to me by the salon that the city name Mclean is misspelled as "Mclran."

Yep, we're talking q-u-a-l-i-t-y.


*technically it is spelled McLean with a big "L," but close enough for, you know, a business card and all.

Pursuit #65: Need to go on a diet?

Go to Mexico!!!

A little "Montezuma's Revenge" + scuba diving off a dingy in Playa del Carmen's choppy waters with strong current = everything inside of you will come outside!

Remember that scene in Stand By Me where the kid throws up after the pie-eating contest, starting a barf-o-rama of everyone throwing up all over? Yeah, that basically happened in Mexico on our dive boat. We like to call it "feeding the fish."

Pursuit #64: I'm a loser

I used to pride myself on the fact that I never lost anything. I was a vault. I was Sticky Fingers, in the non-klepto sense of the phrase. Now, I'm donning a "Michael look:" 

Michael Jackson cause I'm down to one leather glove

M.J. says all you need is one [glove]. I disagree. My other hand is cold.

  

and George Michael cause when I looked in the mirror today at work, I realized I only had one dangly earring on...in the left ear no less.

Unfortunately, G.M., I've lost faith that I'll find my other earring.

Maybe I'll invest in one of these. Or a velcro vest.

This all reminds me of something Molly once brought up. Haven't you ever wondered how a lone shoe on the side of the highway or a sock in the bushes ends up there? Where are the owners of these random articles of clothing and how did they end up in the Pollo Campero parking lot on a rainy Wednesday afternoon? "Clothes Not on People" is an interesting phenomenon. However, my recent loser-ness is helping me understand the lonely existence of such items and their plight. And I bet their owners are probably just as lonely without them...

Pursuit #63: Do all dogs really go to heaven?

I agree that (most) dogs are wonderful creatures. They are sweet, innocent animals that love you unconditionally and just want to be loved. But sometimes they are completely psychotic. I don't readily have access to Cesar Milan (aka The Dog Whisperer) or the British lady dog whisperer who looks like Sporty Spice. So what do I do?

I was told by the owner before she left town that one of her two smallish dogs doesn't like other dogs, so she just avoids other dogs. What she didn't mention was that this dog not only doesn't like other dogs, but doesn't like other humans, fire hydrants...or sounds for that matter. 


This morning's walk was going swimmingly, until a small unsuspecting toddler walked by with her father. The way the dog leapt at this small child and her father, you'd think they were made out of ham. There was gnashing of teeth, uncontrollable barking and me apologizing to the father while simultaneously trying to quell this furry beast that probably weighs all of 10 pounds. Another dog walked by on the other side of the parking lot, leading to another bout of insanity. At this point, I aborted the walk. 

When one lives in a giant apartment complex, how does one avoid any and all living things and inanimate objects? Something tells me this is impossible. Maybe these are just the classic symptoms of doggy cocaine use?

Looks innocent enough

When the crazy is unleashed