I have the priviledge of hating birds with a fear and passion. I have been terrified of birds most of my adult life. When they swoop at my head, I fall to the ground. When they bounce along the sidewalk and then bounce in my direction, I jump into the arms of a sixteen year old girl. Yes, I am that kind of man.
So today, when I was driving back to school from a weekend of getting poked fun at for getting frisked, I hit a bird with my car. I was cruising along at about 70 on a back road (one of many that lead me here) and two birds flew up from the road and ditch area. Normally this does not bother me, there is distance between the bird and I and a car. This time however, as I hear the crack of its spine against my windshield, I fell a slight terror through my blood. What if the bird didn't die and is now hunting me down. It is limping its way towards Kville as we speak.
I think though it probably died. This was slightly sad for me. It was one of the nice birds, not one of the many black birds that haunt my dreams. This one was fluffy and probably sang a good song. Now it will not be able to make babies with the partner bird which was definitely its mate. It was going to have little chirpy babies in a few months and eat the spiders that I hate so much.
Speaking of spiders and getting made fun of...This gigantic spider crawled on my brother after Easter dinner and instead of screaming or barely reacting to a spider no bigger than a nickel, I got up and started to hyperventilate. All I could do was point with my mouth open and air coming in and out in rapid succession. I am glad that I did not scream, but I did make a huge scene that caused my aunts to tease me about my fears. This brought up the story of the bat.
Ex-girlfriend, JoAnne (who cheated on me and I kept going back to for three summers), called me to tell me that there was a bat in her house and to come get it out. Ashley Walker and I to the rescue. We get to her door--locked. I call her to ask her how I'm supposed to get in. She has locked herself into her bedroom with the dresser in front of the door. I state that I am not going to break down her door in order to get a bat out of the house. She runs swiftly and silently to unlock the door and then returns in a flash to throw her dresser in front of her door. Ashley and I walk in with the ice scraper from my car. We find a laundry basket and a broom (better and longer than an ice scraper). As the "brave man", I crawl into the living room broom in hand, basket on head. I made attempts to swat at the bat to trick it out the porch door. Instead, it flies into the spare bedroom. I see it flying in little circles and magically it disappears through the hole in the window screen.
Before shutting the window, I peer out the hole to investigate something. Not exactly sure why I would do this. Anyway, the bat comes flying back through the window about the time my face is within inches of the hole. I fall straight back onto my ass screaming bloody murder. Ashley yells from the kitchen if I am ok. I scream back that the bat has come back into the house. I had updated her about the hole and it leaving. She asked if I was ok. To which I screamed again. The bat was swooping and went into the living room where the cats were doing a better job at bat removal. Finally, to no effort of my own, the bat flew out the front door. We closed the window and closed the front door. JoAnne would call her landlord to fix the hole and I would be the hero of the story to which I would get no rewards.
My uncle is a dick. He kept referring to the homo cop that frisked me and if I got his number (and he doesn't know). He also kept loudly insinuating in front of my mother things about smoking and trying to give me away. His wife is my hairdresser. She told me a story about him building a new house that is very close to my aunt. Since he now lives in my grandparents back yard, I called him a momma's boy and asked if he had connection issues. My aunt completely got on board. I can only hope that she teases him about it. I like her a lot and hope that she gets her way. Screw my uncle.
Easter went well. Can't you tell.