I checked the tracking on a recent online purchase and noticed something a bit odd.
Apparently, my order spent two days in 2011. The weird part is UPS used time travel to go to Maine. Why Maine?! Was it to skew the results of the Lake Auburn Road Race of June 4, 2011? Was it worth it for the $50 certificate and the commemorative polka dot t-shirt given to the winner of said race? Actually, that sounds like a suspiciously crummy prize for a twelve mile bike race. Maybe UPS sent a time traveler to steal the original cool prize, and replace it with the shitty one…hence, the arrival on the third to meddle with paperwork and change promotions (these time travelers are the thorough type). Mystery solved!
This is the type of stuff I research when I have three projects due next week. Procrastination is an art.
When walking towards the dining room today, I saw a flutter of brown move quickly across the room. My brain stalled as I tried to identify what I had seen. Then it flew up and hit a window as the words,”Bird in the house!” escaped my gasping mouth. The bird flew again towards the bay window creating the resounding ding associated with glass on bird contact. I quickly flung the carport door wide open and started trying to get the bird to fly out, instead it flew again towards the window. I realized that the bird would never fly towards the door while I stood near it frantically gesturing towards the exit all the while emitting a high pitch continuous slew of encouragement and panic, “Noo fly OUT, little bird! Oh my gosh, what do I do? Bird in the house! Nick, bird! Bird in the house! Come on little bird, outside!” Meanwhile Nick, responded to the cacophony of noise by shutting doors on the far side of the house (which is actually a good response to a wild animal in the house). Upon realizing that I was probably scaring the bird, I tried to retreat to the corner while still coaxing it outside (at one point I think I was whistling). The bird promptly flew across the room towards the door then hit the mirror about two feet away from the exit. Stunned, it just perched on the coat rack collecting it wits. Then, without much fanfare it flew out. Then, Nick showed up.
It should be noted that just before this incident, I had been boasting about my innate ability to critically assess a situation to find solutions. Yup.
“I’m all up in this house, ruining your perspective of self. And possibly, your windows.”
I was going to write about something in particular, but when I looked at the scrap of paper I had written down my idea on, all I had written was, “Blog.” Yes. Very helpful, past-me.
Earlier today, on facebook, I posted a gif from Community, reminding people to “Tina Turner” their clocks back:
The Dean Turners back time .
This, of course, reminded me of the phase I went through in third grade when I wanted to be Tina Turner… or just her legs (it was a very confusing time).
How much of my 8-year-old life was spent staring at those gams?
My friend Eddie also wanted to be Tina Turner. Being a black male, we thought he had the advantage. So whenever we played Tina Turner and the Ikettes, Eddie was Tina and the girls were lowly backup singers. We would spend recess putting together routines to perform for our teacher, Mrs. Mercado – who, by the way, was completely unappreciative of our musical styling.
What I recall most about Eddie was his fantastic way of somehow making his soffe-shorts shorter to accentuate his legs. Because, Tina is all leg all the time!
Yes. These can get shorter.
After we spent a whole week on the dusty playground perfecting “Proud Mary,” including the raspy voice intro, we performed our choreographed number in front of the class. It was awesome, or would have been, if I hadn’t ruined it all by trying to turn Eddie’s solo into a duet. In my defense, it was Tina Tragic Fucking Turner and those legs!! I just couldn’t resist.
And thus, my hopes of becoming a backup singer were dashed. Luckily, I moved later that year so the young Ikettes had a chance to flourish in my absence.