(no subject)

So I got bitten by a feral chicken today. No, really! Seems that the other day, someone found a mommy chicken and a bunch of babies just sort of hanging around outside of a church, and brought them to us ("us" meaning where I work.) And now, they belong to us. We're going to build a pen for them, and ohhhhh the chicks are too cute for words! They're all different colors. And I went to pick one up today and the mom just reached out really fast and bit my hand. Not just pecked, bit! It was so funny. They're our feral chickens.

So here's a weird story: Two Mondays ago, I was on my way home, and I saw a bunch of people gathered on the side of the road around a dog with a blanket over it. So, figuring it had been hit by a car, I pulled over. There's a lot of roadwork, and one of the highway dept. people was there, and she said the owners were on their way. The dog looked really bad. So I said, well, I'll hang around until they get there, and then I'll call the emergency vet and tell them to set up surgery, because the emergency vet is like a sister hospital to us and my girl Kim works there. So, who comes tearing down the street but my friend and his 15 year old son. And you can imagine how upset they were. So all I did was to call emergency, ask them to set up surgery, give my friend directions to the hospital and help him put his dog in the back of his car. As it turns out, the poor old thing didn't make it. She was paralyzed from the waist down. But I met my friend and his kid at WalMart on Sunday and he said, "You were an angel that day. It's so weird that you were there." I was relieved, because since I hadn't had a chance to talk to him, I was worried that he might have thought I was the one who had hit his dog. O_O Ugh. And he's one of my snarkiest, growliest, ass-bitingly sarcastic friends, so it was weird hearing him say something like that. Usually he asks me if I've cooked or eaten any of my birds yet.

Yesterday was pretty cool. My brother and his wife came out for a visit and my parents took us out to dinner. Our birthday is on Friday. When I tell people that my brother and I were both born on Oct. 24th the first thing they ask me is, "are you twins?" Then I say, "no, we're 23 years apart. He's 54." Then they say, "how old is your mother?" And I say, "56." Then I just leave it at that. But the truth is that he's my Dad's son and not my Mom's, which you would think that anyone would be able to figure out, so you'd be surprised at how many people are totally puzzled by this.

So my brother and I were both born on Oct. 24. My friend Nancy's husband Dan says, "your father must be an organized man." Incidentally, my friend Nancy was also born on Oct. 24th. My friend Pat on the 25th, and my other friend and one of the vets I work for, also named Nancy, on the 26th. My cousin Chrissie, Nov. 1st (same year as me,) and her husband, Oct 25th. My friend Jeremy (yeah, those of you in the know--I still consider him my friend and a soulmate of sorts,) Nov. 1st. His brother Nick, Oct 24th. My Grandma, Nov. 3rd, and my cousin and Chrissie's sister Celie's son, Nov. 3rd. And Trish's husband (Trish is my other best girl,) Oct. 25th.

WTF? You think that's weird? Try this one.

My dad's name is James, and his first wife was Josephine. They had three kids: Jimmy jr, Gary, and Donna. Then my dad and Josephine got a divorce and he married my Mom, Judith. My brother Jimmy's first wife was named Jody (for Josephine,) and my brother Gary's first wife was named Donna. They each divorced their first wives, and Jimmy re-married, and his present wife's name is MaryJo. (One of my dad's many sister's was a Mary.) So you can imagine how everyone either panicked or rejoiced when I started dating this guy named Jimmy, who was introduced to me by my friend Donna, and whose first wife was named Josephine (or just Josie to me, since she was my best friend in Kindergarten, though I haven't seen her since.)

So, yeah. Anyway, my brother and his wife came out yesterday and we had a really nice time. I hardly ever get to see him, but he's a really good guy. (He works for Conan and he gets to meet all of the guests. He's met Chris Walken a bunch of times and I'm always like, "dude, next time bring him to me!") I sometimes forget what it's like to be a little sister. It was cool, I felt a little bit like Machi from Blade of the Immortal, only Jimmy isn't immortal, has both his eyes and is not an assassin who killed my husband, while I've never been married, did not watch Jimmy murder the husband I never had, and did not get cut in half. Whether or not I've regressed to the mental state of a child, though, is up for debate.

Hope everyone has a good humpday. :)

(no subject)

So I got bitten by a feral chicken today. No, really! Seems that the other day, someone found a mommy chicken and a bunch of babies just sort of hanging around outside of a church, and brought them to us ("us" meaning where I work.) And now, they belong to us. We're going to build a pen for them, and ohhhhh the chicks are too cute for words! They're all different colors. And I went to pick one up today and the mom just reached out really fast and bit my hand. Not just pecked, bit! It was so funny. They're our feral chickens.

So here's a weird story: Two Mondays ago, I was on my way home, and I saw a bunch of people gathered on the side of the road around a dog with a blanket over it. So, figuring it had been hit by a car, I pulled over. There's a lot of roadwork, and one of the highway dept. people was there, and she said the owners were on their way. The dog looked really bad. So I said, well, I'll hang around until they get there, and then I'll call the emergency vet and tell them to set up surgery, because the emergency vet is like a sister hospital to us and my girl Kim works there. So, who comes tearing down the street but my friend and his 15 year old son. And you can imagine how upset they were. So all I did was to call emergency, ask them to set up surgery, give my friend directions to the hospital and help him put his dog in the back of his car. As it turns out, the poor old thing didn't make it. She was paralyzed from the waist down. But I met my friend and his kid at WalMart on Sunday and he said, "You were an angel that day. It's so weird that you were there." I was relieved, because since I hadn't had a chance to talk to him, I was worried that he might have thought I was the one who had hit his dog. O_O Ugh. And he's one of my snarkiest, growliest, ass-bitingly sarcastic friends, so it was weird hearing him say something like that. Usually he asks me if I've cooked or eaten any of my birds yet.

Yesterday was pretty cool. My brother and his wife came out for a visit and my parents took us out to dinner. Our birthday is on Friday. When I tell people that my brother and I were both born on Oct. 24th the first thing they ask me is, "are you twins?" Then I say, "no, we're 23 years apart. He's 54." Then they say, "how old is your mother?" And I say, "56." Then I just leave it at that. But the truth is that he's my Dad's son and not my Mom's, which you would think that anyone would be able to figure out, so you'd be surprised at how many people are totally puzzled by this.

So my brother and I were both born on Oct. 24. My friend Nancy's husband Dan says, "your father must be an organized man." Incidentally, my friend Nancy was also born on Oct. 24th. My friend Pat on the 25th, and my other friend and one of the vets I work for, also named Nancy, on the 26th. My cousin Chrissie, Nov. 1st (same year as me,) and her husband, Oct 25th. My friend Jeremy (yeah, those of you in the know--I still consider him my friend and a soulmate of sorts,) Nov. 1st. His brother Nick, Oct 24th. My Grandma, Nov. 3rd, and my cousin and Chrissie's sister Celie's son, Nov. 3rd. And Trish's husband (Trish is my other best girl,) Oct. 25th.

WTF? You think that's weird? Try this one.

My dad's name is James, and his first wife was Josephine. They had three kids: Jimmy jr, Gary, and Donna. Then my dad and Josephine got a divorce and he married my Mom, Judith. My brother Jimmy's first wife was named Jody (for Josephine,) and my brother Gary's first wife was named Donna. They each divorced their first wives, and Jimmy re-married, and his present wife's name is MaryJo. (One of my dad's many sister's was a Mary.) So you can imagine how everyone either panicked or rejoiced when I started dating this guy named Jimmy, who was introduced to me by my friend Donna, and whose first wife was named Josephine (or just Josie to me, since she was my best friend in Kindergarten, though I haven't seen her since.)

So, yeah. Anyway, my brother and his wife came out yesterday and we had a really nice time. I hardly ever get to see him, but he's a really good guy. (He works for Conan and he gets to meet all of the guests. He's met Chris Walken a bunch of times and I'm always like, "dude, next time bring him to me!") I sometimes forget what it's like to be a little sister. It was cool, I felt a little bit like Machi from Blade of the Immortal, only Jimmy isn't immortal, has both his eyes and is not an assassin who killed my husband, while I've never been married, did not watch Jimmy murder the husband I never had, and did not get cut in half. Whether or not I've regressed to the mental state of a child, though, is up for debate.

Hope everyone has a good humpday. :)