Here is my weekend:

Saturday:

breakfast, biking, weights at the gym, lunch, shopping, errands, shopping, errands, dinner, sucktastic movie (The Emperor's Club, which would get it's ass kicked by the Dead Poet's Society. No shit, what a crummy movie it was.), bed. Sunday: breakfast, biking, lunch (fake-bacon BLTs. So freaking good.), cleaning, cleaning, laundry, cleaning, cleaning, laundry, dinner, laundry, Sex And The City.

I got so much done today, for real. My house is sparkly and the laundry is folded and everything. Also, I managed to avoid attending the Carytown Watermelon Festival for the third year running! This "festival" aka "come walk around in sweaty crowds and buy stuff" happens two blocks from my house, so I pretty much can't move my car unless I plan to be gone for the entire day. Therefore, I do not play nice with others and I act like a crabby old lady, shaking my fist at the suburbanites who don't even know how to parallel park anyway so get the hell out of my neighborhood, fools. Ahem.

The best part of today? I had another cool hippie nature moment. There's a blooming Mimosa tree out in the alley across from our balcony (okay, ledge with railings. Whatever.) and Kenny told me to keep an eye on it because Hummingbirds like Mimosa nectar. He said they look like big bugs. I've never actually seem a Hummingbird so this morning I stepped out to take a gander at the tree.

Kenny stepped out too. "Do you see one? "

"No, I'll probably never time it right, but there is a big locust of some kind buzzing around...oh. Oh! Duh. Hee!"

We watched this tiny, tiny, buzzy bird zip from bloom to bloom, and you just cannot believe how freaking tiny it was. When it was finished, it sat on this bare branch and preened with it's tiny-ass bad self. I was delighted.

One last bit of news: On Friday, I got a call for a job interview! For a research job! That I'd actually very much like to have! Eee! The interview is on Tuesday and I'm not going to say anything more about it because I'm already getting too excited by the possibility of escaping the loan center. Shocking, the very idea. (Please, baby Jesus, please...)

*******

PS. Everyone seemed to love the dueling bird gangs and I'm thinking I really should've pushed it further. It's a thing!

So, The Jays and The Grays. The Jays are bad-tempered and have greased ducktails. They chain-smoke Lucky Strikes and stand on street corners, shifty-eyed and reckless. The Grays, now they're top-drawer trouble. They drive nice cars and wear madras, and they all hate their parents who just throw money at them but can't be bothered to get involved. It's tough all over, is what I'm saying. Perhaps the Hummingbird is the bird that tears them apart and helps, with her untimely death, to bring them together?

From Palinode:

Gee, Officer Krupke
We're down on our knees
'Cause no one wants a bluejay with a social disease...

0 chatty monkeys