I Have Squirrel Karma

I'm convinced my karma, or at least my brain, is inextricably skewed towared squirrels. I have no idea why my mind has wandered down this particular fluffy-tailed path of thought on this particular bloggin evening, other than I must have just thought back to my latest "squirrel-involved tall tale" from last week (more on that below), and realized that squirrels have somehow become a theme with me (better than hedgehogs, I guess). Consider the following:

• EXHIBIT A: The Joyriding Squirrel -- long ago (about 9 years back) in a land far away (Northbrook, or thereabouts) my beau and I took a shortcut (read: we took a longer route to avoid paying for parking) through the woods surrounding the Botanic Gardens in order to gain entry sans parting with our much-valued money. In so doing, we were forced to climb, scramble and jump over many fallen logs and various other forest-like debris. Following a lovely afternoon spent staring at flora, fauna and the occasional goose, we made our way back to the car, where, at said moment, my beau discovered that his car keys were not in his pocket, where he had previously placed them. Long-story-short...they had fallen out of his pocket somewhere in the woods during our stealth garden-entry maneuvering escape. I was forced to drive him back downtown to get his spare keys, then all the way back to his car. On the drive back, I surmised that his car would probably be gone. When questioned as to how I arrived at this interesting (insane) conclusion, I responded that I believed a squirrel most likely found his keys in the woods, and somehow has made its way to the parking lot where his Jeep was currently chilling. Of course, the squirrel tried all the locks of all the cars (this was pre-remote keyless entry) and upon successfully gaining access to his four-wheel-drive wonder, cranked the engine and raced out to 294...swerving and speeding, as almost all squirrels tend to do, heading up north to Wisconsin where an underaged squirrel (he was only 2 in squirrel years -- the fact that there is no such thing as "squirrel years" did not phase me...and of course, this was the only weird part of my tale) can party in style. That was my story. Of course, the Jeep was there when we got back. And somehow my now ex-beau did not have me committed to a little padded cell at that very moment. His bad.
• EXHIBIT B: Wheeling Squirrels Are Crazy:Part 1 -- Prior to living in Evanston, I inhabited this glorious eutopia commonly referred to as Wheeling, IL. Such splendid strip malls, manufacturing plants and apartment complexes I never did see. Ah, but I digress. In my particular apartmental paradise, I had the pleasure on living in a first floor apartment overlooking scenic "Parking lot C"...with a first-rate view of the dumpster. Anywho, since the parking lot was essentially the view out my living room patio, I couldn't help but observe my parked car, and the cars of my neighbors, right there in front of my face. Well, this curious thing would happen when the weather warmed and the squirrels began to run free. The squirrels would gather a good 20 or 30 feet in front of the parked cars (on the lawn in front of my patio, in fact) and then one by one would take a running leap at my car (or those right by it). They would run right at the hood of a car as fast as their fluffly little feet would carry them over the un-mowed grass, then leap onto the hood. I believe their ultimate goal was to leap far enough to get to the windshield and then scurry onto the roof (as one or two actually achieved this lofty goal). The thing was, most of the squirrels landed (flat on their bellies with all four feet/paws/whatever splayed out, I must add!) about halfway up the hood of whichever car they'd chosen, and then slid right back down the front of the hood...over the fender...and back to the grass. I kid you not. It was like watching a real-life road runner cartoon, minus the coyote and the Acme products. To this day, I'm convinced it was some strange squirrel gang initiation of some sort...if they made it to the roof they were official "fluff brothers" or something like that. Word (yes, I am a dork, and I'm ok with that).
• EXHIBIT C: Wheeling Squirrels Are Crazy: Part 2 -- So not only did the Wheeling squirrels take running leaps at parked cars. They took them at my sliding door screen. Yep. You read right. I'd be sitting in my living room watching TV and sense movement out of the corner of my eye. I'd look out the window in time to see a squirrel running at me, full tilt. And at the last minute it would leap at my window, for some reason trying to land as high up on my screen as possible. The funniest part was post-leap, when, after the high of flying without wings wore off, the little furballs would panic and not know how to get down. They would freeze, and end up just plastered there on my screen door...like a bug that splattered on a windshield. Now that's entertainment! And, I'm convinced, how I ended up with a squirrel in my ceiling. My theory is that this particular squirrel made it all the way to the top of my screen, where it found a hole in the brick above my sliding glass door and wriggled in to investigate. Bad timing for Mr. Squirrel. See, as I would learn later, the same week Mr. S let curiousity get the best of him, the building maintenance crew made its rounds and sealed all holes and cracks on the outside of all buildings in the complex. So...the squirell got in, but couldn't get out. I happened to be home from work on the day Mr. S got stuck. Sitting there, I kept hearing this click click click sound running above my head. It took a second for me to realize all apartments were carpeted, and no pets were allowed. Ergo, there was an animal (at this point I didn't know of what species or origin) in my ceiling. I kept hearing it run from the vicinity of the kitchen to pretty much where the sliding door was...well, really, it would go "click, click, click, click, click, click, bam." See, it knew where it had gotten in, but just didn't grasp the whole "can't get out that way" concept. For a week, mostly at night, if would run full tilt (see the pattern here) toward that corner and then I'd hear "bam" as it hit the wall. Finally, animal control came out, sawed a hole in my kitchen wall about the cabinets and set a trap. At 7:00 a.m. the next morning I heard a twang, followed by wimpering unlike anything I'd ever heard. I crept into the kitchen to find the fluffiest darn squirrel I'd ever seen trapped in a metal box suspended above my refrigerator. Huh, now there's a sight you don't see every day. And, I can say, I now know what it's like when squirrels cry!
• EXHIBIT D: The Squirrel Whisperer -- That's me. Apparently I speak squirrel. Who knew? One day, while sitting on a bench by the "fake man-made pond" at my glorious Wheeling apartment, a squirrel came foraging for whatever it is that they forage for. Well, it was making it's little chittering squirrel-sound, so I decided to mimick it. I have no idea why. I can only surmise I was extremely bored. Which makes sense...I was in Wheeling, after all. So, I start making chittering sounds that I think approximate what I hear coming from the little fluffball, and the darndest thing happens -- it stops chittering and eating whatever it was eating, sits up on its hind legs, pricks its ears back and listens. Encouraged, I chitter some more. And the squirrel turns to me. So I chitter again, and it starts coming towards me. I keep it up, and in a minute or so it's at my feet looking up at me. And it is at that moment that I began to panic. See...I have NO IDEA what I'd been saying to the fluffball. All of a sudden I imagine I promised it food, or the keys to a Jeep, or proposed marriage and I start to believe I better get the heck out of dodge. See, the squirrel looks like it's about to jump in my lap -- and getting mauled by an angry, vampire-squirrel (yes, I was convinved it would go for my neck) was just not on my list of things to do that day. So I start making regular people sounds (the kind that ususally scare fluffballs of all kinds away) and soon enough he scampers off. Phew...how would I have explained that engagement to my parents?
• EXHIBIT E: All Squirrels Are Romantics -- The week before last my office-mate lost his wedding ring in the parking lot of our office. It was the day of the "honking huge and freaking ridiculous end-of-March snowstorm" and he had run out in the middle of the day to clean off his car a little. Afterwards, he had snow all over his sleeves and shook them out rather vigorously (his words, not mine...I wasn't there) before going back inside. Well, appartenly his wedding ring was big, and somehow in the bout of shaking had flown off his finger into our parking lot oblivion. When he relayed this story to me, I told another office mate that my belief was that the ring was gone...a squirrel probably came along and swiped it. Said squirrel was probably thinking about proposing to his true love, and it was just his luck to come across such a golden ring at such a time. In fact, I figured at that moment he was down on one leg or paw or however squirrels proposed and asking his best, fluffiest gal to marry him. A week later my office-mate found his ring...about 7 cars away from where he'd parked. I told him that the squirrel's proposal must have been unwelcome, and having been rejected by his only true love, came back to the scene of his fateful ring encounter and just dumped it anywhere...happy to be rid of the foul thing and convinced that WI is where he'll find his true squirrel-love. If only he had a Jeep...

Case closed. And yes, I do realize I'm a more than a few fries short of a happy meal! Hey, at least the Evanston squirrels keep to themselves. For now :) Green Bee gone...

GB

Nature v. Nurture v. Whatever Comes to Mind

So...I've been thinking lately. The whole nature v. nurture argument...how much weight does that hold. Which holds more influence? And can either nature or nurture ever be changed? See...I am an adopted child. An adopted only child...one who was adopted at 3 days old. The only familial environment I know is the one I was raised in. Yet I ended up being almost 100% different from my family in likes/dislikes/hopes/dreams/talents. The only aspect where I remotely resemble my family is in "learned behaviors" -- not sharing feelings, being fiercely private and independent, hiding problems instead of talking about them.

The real impetus (sorry for "big word usage here"...not writing to impress, just couldn't think of a better word in this instance) for this blog is my looking back on my upbringing and marveling at how I turned out. I grew up in a, for lack of a better descriptor, beige world. Literally. The carpets in my house were beige. The car we owned was beige. The furniture spanned a spectrum of beige hues from "vanilla" to "cocoa" and "taupe" to "brown." I was not allowed to paint my bedroom walls or hang anything on said walls. I couldn't pick my comforter (or my clothes...until I was in high school). There was really no outlet for self-expression, at least one would think. I mean, there were (and still aren't) any books in the house where I grew up, no music (no stereo, records, tapes or CDs). There is no computer. There are only three DVDs in said residence. No magazines...no anything. Yet I somehow grew up to love reading, books and horror novels in particular. We didn't have cable, yet I somehow devour all things pop culture. I LOVE music, though I didn't start listening to it until college (my 300+ CD collection proves it...though my iPod rendered even those obsolete). I love to write (stories, poems, whatever), draw, paint, sketch, make jewelry, dance (tap, mostly), play basketball, watch TV and play board games. Somehow, my environment growing up had nothing to do with who I became.

And yet it did. Because I learned to not talk about anything personal. I got the message that being a woman was something shameful and secretive. I got the message that men are asses. And most are, mind you, but certainly not all. I got the message that I was different, strange...a traitor for not 100% believing in the religion, life views, ideologies that my family did. And, oh yeah, I'm about a half foot taller than everyone in my family. That's interesting at family gatherings :)

So...I guess I'm torn. Nature? Nurture? Nothing but genetics? What's the deal, folks? I don't have the answer. And I'm not sure I'd want it.

Okay, donkey...on to other topics:

• All Hail Furby -- do you remember those annoying little toys...looked like cuter versions of Gremlins...yet had the ability to "learn"? Well, a long time ago, circa 1999 I had one. And it drove me nuts. Not only did it not "learn" anything...it wouldn't go to sleep. All it would do is repeat "me scared"..."it's dark in here"..."me hungry"...and other such gems. One day (it was asleep at this point, by some miracle I may add) I'd had enough and as I was taking out the trash I decided to throw the annoying little bugger away. Well, the motion of tossing it into the trash bag woke it up. So, as I'm walking across the parking lot of my apartment complex to pitch my garbage, the darn thing starts talking. Yep...I'm walking by my neighbors carrying a trash bag that keeps saying "Furby scared"..."it's dark in here"... and "let's play." Needless to say, I got more than a few odd looks. And I'd venture to guess that every time someone tossed something into the dumpster from then until the garbage men came would trigger that darned blasted toy to speak again...freaking out everyone. I can't help but look back and laugh...it was the first and last time I've had "talking trash!" :)
• Once More, With Feeling -- it's been a good year since I indulged in listening to the Buffy "musical episode" on CD. And it still rocks. I mean, they got the mustard out. What more can I say? My only regret is that I missed out on the musical episode theater revival tour (a la Rocky Horror Picture Show) before the greedy powers that be whined about not making money off of it and put the grand ole kibosh on it. Boo hoo :( Give me something to sing about, man!
• Yea Spring -- or the semblance of a possibility that in some realm in the near future there will exist, in any approximation, a form of slightly warmer weather historically referred to as "spring." Yeah, gotta love '08.

That's all the mindless blather that's fit to print. "I'll never tell!" :) GB silent.

Poem Is Me

Very brief blurb tonight...these days find me one waaaay busy bee. But I promised a friend (note to self: watch what you promise!) I'd post one of my poems, so here you go...read it and weep. Or maybe just read it...weeping would be construed as an unfavorable reaction :)

Green B buggin out!

Tactile Turn

One look back, one last look
Turned her into a pillar of salt
So you made margaritas
And drowned your sorrows in regret

Could have saved her the trouble
And you the sin
An apple a day
Kept the doctor at bay
But not the snake

So you sold your soul
For a tabloid day
That in dog years equals ten

Then reformed your conviction
In the court of opinion
For water
To dilute your wine

Casual encounter turned cautionary tale
Urban legend, suburban shame
Spirited a ghost
Surrendered the game
Plundered the treasure of another new name

The Power of Words

Last night, this little bee had the pleasure of buzzing, literally, with a group of work partners and clients at a post-really-long-meeting gathering. One of the folks there proposed the idea of us all going around the table and sharing the "one thing someone said to you in your life that you never forgot." Very cool suggesstion...of course, this tending-to-fall-mute-lately bee drew a blank. Buzz-kill :( Hours later -- having sufficiently slept and properly hydrated -- I find that there are, indeed, not one but a few hurtful, flattering or just plain interesting verbal gems I've been handed over the years...here goes (no judgment from the peanut gallery...that means you, cashew):

• "You are butt and flat" (as in you are butt ugly and flat-chested...as stated to me in response to the very reasonable "why won't you go out with me?" query of a 7th grade crush. Guess there's a reason they're called "crushes, eh? Alas...I can say there has only been siginificant improvement on one of those two fronts...ha...pun truly not intended there!)
• "If this is representative of what you can do, I highly recommend you consider grad school" (told to me by my philosphy professor following us turning in our first essay assignment -- a philosopher's commentary on the state of health care reform in what was then 1996 -- and my getting the only A in the class.)
• "Why don't you love me like everyone else loves me?" (as queried to me by, at that time, a very drunk work friend -- I say at that time because we are no longer friends...as for whether she is still very drunk, well that I cannot say -- following my not allowing her to drive home and insisting she crash, literally, at my place. Stumped for a response, all I could utter was "how does everyone else love you?" and at which time she promptly passed out. I never did find out how everyone else loves her...to be honest, I'm a little scared to know!)
• "You can't unring a bell" (as told to me by a smart, insightful friend -- and former bell-owner -- in response to lamenting my myriad family woes of late...see previous post for snippet. The good news is, you can "not ring" it again...says a now former-bell-owner herself.)
• "Okay Donkey" (ok, so this wasn't "said" to me...it was "written" to me in an e-mail from a friend whose spell check had run amok. She was responding to sappy e-mail I'd written her, and meant to end it with "okey dokey" -- for some reason my signature phrase at the time and something she knew would make me smile -- and didn't catch that her spell-check function had automatically converted the phrase. Well, I did smile...in fact, I think I laughed to so hard I snorted coffee out my nose -- lovely picture, I know...at least it wasn't hot anymore -- and to this day I have a clip-art picture at my desk of a little donkey with the caption "Okay Donkey." I say it all the time, and as goofy as it is, that friend, and this phrase, will always hold significant meaning in my life!)

So fellow buzzers, any of y'all have something someone once said (or wrote) to you that has always stayed with you and you'd like to share? If so, share away. I'm off to brew some coffee (to be consumed the normal-not-through-the-nose way, of course). Okay Donkey.

Green B Out

Silent Lucidity

Hi everyone,

Yes, I have been absent for a very long time. I apologize. Life, as it were, got in the way. This will be a brief post. My aunt Wendy passed away last week of liver cancer...she was a special, wonderful woman...and I dedicate this short, yet meaningful post to her memory.

I promise to post meaningless, sarcastic diabtribes soon! Honest engine.

Long live everyone,

Black & blue Green B

Quote Me On It

Very brief post tonight...just wanted to get out there a few of my favorite movie/book quotes...and then ask y'all to respond by telling me yours (after all, turnabout is indeed fair play):

- "What about the twinkie?"
-"Oh no, it's already out there..."
-"Bring me a shrubbery!"
-"Looks like someone's got a case of the Mondays"
-"And you, you little shit, you're staying here!"
-"Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"
-"I prefer not to"
-"What you buy is what you own, and sooner or later what you own comes back to you"
-"Can you vague that up a little?"
-"Oh, it's entirely pointy!"
-"Beer bad"
-"Game over, man, game over!"
-"I feel better"
-"Can you describe the ruckus?"

Ok, I'm spent. Happy evening to all, and to all a quote-y night :)

GB

Random Acts of Thinking

Today's post is a mishmash, if you will, of random thoughts that have been floating around in my head. Even if it weren't random, I just really wanted to use the word mishmash in a sentence :) Yes, I'm being goofy...but I woke up to find it's about negative 2 degrees in my apt (after it was about 102 degrees last night)...so methinks the steam heat has gone awry (yes, brilliant stroke of deductive reasoning, I admit!)...and mehopes it will right itself soon...before my tooth-chattering actually chips a tooth (I like my nice teeth...would like to keep them)! Anywho...

LOST rocks! This season of LOST has been my favorite to date. Every episode answers at least one question or solves at least one mystery, yet leaves us with a bizillion (that's a real, real lot) more questions. The pace is fast, and I can't help but look forward to Thursday nights. I've always watched LOST, but even I must admit that season 2 and parts of season 3 were Boring (yep, with a capital B). I sure am glad I never gave up on this particular show!

DEXTER fooled me. When I heard it was coming to CBS, given that season 1 and season 2 have already aired on Showtime, I made the mistake of assuming this was season 3 premiering (yes, I know what happens to u and me when one assumes). Silly girl, new episodes are for kids. To my disappointment, when I went to watch the tape of this past Sunday's first CBS showing (yes, you read correctly, I said tape...as in VCR...as in unless I tell it to tape something, it ain't going to grow a brain and decide to tape it for me...and it won't then tape anything I might even remotely like based on the show it just taped...what can I say, I'm old school baby) it was the first show of the first season of DEXTER, which it just so happens I finished wathcing in a DVD marathon just last week. Figures!

*I must interrupt this regularly scheduled post to note that, as I type, I hear a hissing sound. Either my dilinquent radiator has reconsidered its position on the whole "no heat for you" stance, or I've got motherf- snakes in my motherf- dining room. I'm hoping it's the former.

Hope. It's what I've been holding on to, foolishly, to get me through the winter-that-will-not-end. In all the years I've lived at my current rental eutopia, I never once thought there would ever be the real possibility I could ice skate to my car. Ha. Such is my narrow mind. See, ever since the last honking huge snowfall a few weeks back (you know, the one where the whole world somehow ran out of ice), my street turned into a major, and quite permanent, sheet of ice. Even this week, innocent shoppers parking along my street to run into Great Harvest for a mere loaf of bread found themselves unable to get out of their parking spots. At least three times a week I've heard the telltale signs of tires whining...failing to gain purchase on what was once road but is now, apparently, Lake Evanston. And the whole "let's put down sand since we ran out of salt idea" didn't go over too well. All we ended up with is sandy ice...just as slippery, but now a lovely shade of beige. I cannot wait until (yes, I said until...I know this denotes hope that Spring will come, but what can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment) it finally warms up enough to melt this freaking ice once and for all. Until then, I skate to my car!

*Now there is hissing and clanging I hear...hooray for heat (at least I hope it's heat and not someone somehow trapped in the boiler room after going to investigate why it's negative 2 degrees in our building...and is now clanging on the pipes in a desperate attempt to be rescued...can you tell I read a lot of Stephen King?)!

NIU. This particular nugget won't be sarcastic. I want to extend my sympathies, condolences and thoughts to the families, friends and loved ones of those who were hurt and killed in the NIU tragedy. NIU is my alma mater...Cole Hall was the first building where I had classes as a freshman. I met one of my best friends there during freshman math...sat in the back of the hall and listened to her tales of going home on weekends because she'd just started dating the man she's now married w/children to. I had my first NIU crush there, too. I can't even fathom that this has happened. I considered posting a long blog dedicated just to this, but I admit I'm at a loss for what else to say. NIU will always be part of my history and my life...it's a great school that I hope can somehow find a way to go on in this sad time.

String cheese. I am a gal who does not cook. Not as in "I don't feel like it, so I rarely do it." As in "I have never cooked. Not once. The stove serves as a large, cumbersome decorative element." So, it would reason that I don't grocery shop as often as most. A few weeks back, I ventured to the store for a few items, and for some reason as I passed the dairy case on the way to the milk I knew, with absolute certainty, that string cheese was exactly what I needed. I used to love it as a kid, but truth be told haven't eaten it since high school. But who am I to balk in the face of absolute certainty. So I bought myself a pack...and guess what?? I can't stop eating it. It's my new favorite snack. It's like I've never had any form of cheese before, and not that I've tasted the blessed substance, I want nothing else. Perhaps I was part mouse in a former life? All I can say is I finished the last of the string cheese last night, and now I'm sad...I totally could have gone for some as a breakfast dish this a.m. Oh well, guess I'll have to strap on my ice skates and venture to the store.

*Houston, we have heat. Lovely :)

That's a wrap! (Signed the-no-longer-blue-due-to-hypothermia Green B...well, at the moment I'm more of a turquoise B, but who's splitting hairs)