Sunday, I walked home from work like it was any other day. I didn't know that this day had something special in store. Special like a bird attack.
I crossed Fairmont and turned to walk up it, like usual. I was looking at flowers and thinking about the temporary nature of beauty, like always. Suddenly, I felt an unusual light scratch against my left arm. I looked, expecting to see a branch or something I had absentmindedly brushed. But instead I looked straight into the beady, murderous eyes of a mockingbird.
At first, I felt like laughing. I thought, seriously, did that bird just bite me? But then it started flying at me again. I said "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?" and ran away a little. Then I thought about what this must look like (dumb; a little crazy) to anyone watching me out their window, and I stopped running.
But the bird was not done. I noticed its assaults seemed largely directed towards my purse, so I held it away from me awkwardly. I walked as quickly as possible and made sure it wasn't following me. Finally it did stop and I ran into my house and stood behind the door. I still felt a little like laughing, but I was a little freaked out, too. I realized then that I could have used my massive purse as a weapon if necessary. I also thought, this is going to make a great story. And indeed, I hope that it has.
It was like this, sort of. Also see this Guardian article.
Sidenote: Tuesday morning I saw the bird attack someone else. I have decided to walk on the other side of the street, and find myself flinching a little whenever birds fly near me. They could be out for blood, like this mockingbird. You can't be too careful.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I'd like to share with you an anecdote I find amusing. At one point at Amnesty I was trying to tell my fellow interns something and I said "one of my boyfriend's brothers-" and I was interrupted by Warren saying, "wait, you have more than one boyfriend?" Immediately I lamented the ambiguity of the English language. But then I remembered my joke second boyfriend.
It all started my last semester at college (last fall). Well, I suppose it started in freshman year, when my main group of friends was mostly made up of guys. Sure there were some girls that we hung out with off and on, but the main group was Tim, Zach, Steve, Jeff (current boyfriend) and occasionally Trevor. As so many groups of friends are wont to do, this group drifted apart. Last fall, Tim was taking the semester off (and had already left the group mostly for a frat). Steve was, as was so often the case, mired in doing schoolwork, running, and playing video games, so he hung out less. Jeff had graduated. That left Zach and Trevor. I had drifted apart from them, too - Zach, mostly because of a girl, and Trevor, for various activities. Since many of the people I had been hanging out with had graduated, I decided to hang out with Zach and Trevor again.
Zach had a new girlfriend and we soon became friends. Then they broke up. I stayed friends with both of them. But Zach and I mostly hung out alone. At first, we just met up at the dining hall for dinner once a week or so. Then we would occasionally go out to dinner together. Someone assumed we were dating. We laughed. We went to see (500) Days of Summer together. I said, "Zach, I think we are dating." And thus was born the joke of the second boyfriend. Basically, a friend, who you go on dates with, but it's not romantic or anything, but everyone else thinks you're dating. I suppose we are now on-again, off-again, though Zach has asked to resume our dates via Skype due to him being in . He wanted to be my first Skype relationship, but I reminded him that my boyfriend and I were long distance for two semesters. Sorry, Zach. It will still be special.