Lucky Boy

He is quite a beauty and his song is really different from Joey's. He is also the alpha male, but it's fun to watch Joey halfheartedly try to compete. They're a great pair and they love to snuggle; in fact, Lucky likes to sort of lean on Joey so you only one of his legs is on the perch. They are fast friends and maybe lovers.

It's sad to feel like Lulu has been replaced. And she hasn't, but since Lucky is more lively than she was in her last few weeks, the Catholic and I, not to mention Joey, have been having a really good time with him.

Note for later: anthropomorphization of animals and their habits + queerness + the reality of gender schema in animal communities. Or rather, animal societies (better, ipj?)

Anyway. He's a love.

Freak

Nobody at work made even the slightest reaction to my haircut. This is fairly interesting, since the new hawk is even extreme to me. I believe it shows how I have affected these folks either by:

-making them afraid of me + being extremely unapproachable
-leading them toward this freakishness a little bit at a time until it's not really so noticable
-seeming invisible?



But really, freak is pretty much what I was GOING for. I kind of look like a punk rocker.

I am going to choose a combination of the first two possibilities. I was informed recently by the good direct supervisor (from here known as Good) that the bad big boss (from here known as Bad) is afraid of me, and it brought a big damn smile to my face. I love this because Bad's entire presentation is that s/he is intimidating, hard, totally invulnerable, inhuman, i.e. scary. But I intimidated shim! Fuck yes. Yes to the power of tears against people who fear them. Good said that one day Bad came to Good's office and asked if I was okay, to which Good replied, "I don't know, have you asked her?" And Bad just walked away without responding. Or maybe responded with "Never mind." I can't remember.

Maybe it's because when I was crying multiple days each week because of the stress Bad was putting me under, Bad would say it looked like I had ALLERGIES! I didn't have fucking allergies, I was crying, in duress, you big hoser. Ooh, scary, tears, emotion! Better pretend it doesn't exist and is therefore totally invalid. (and s/he thought s/he was doing me a favor trying to un-embarrass me.) Bad is like a Skeksie who cannot handle real people. But with better posture.

Anyhow after that digression, I have indeed tried to be scary and unapproachable to Bad and Bad's little flunky too. Apparently it worked.

Othernews

Oh wait in other news the Catholic knocked up his girlfriend and they shouldn't get married they don't even like each other but they're damn well gonna because abortion is not an option and WHAT

HE thinks it's just fine, a jumpstart
SHE sees it as a major problem, mistake, accident, it's interrupting her whole life plan
I know plans don't always work out and you have to deal however you can but
it's fucking convenient for HIM not to see it as that big a deal
HE's not the one whose body will never be the same nor will HE be staying home with the little one unable to pursue her career and yet
SHE makes far more and more reliable money than he does

and that makes me angry and it makes me realize that while I can't say it 100% because I'm not literally in the situation, it makes me more able to imagine myself in the situation and
if I got pregnant now I am reasonably sure I would have an abortion

and it sucks that they ever have to happen but
I don't have a problem with the fact that I would choose it.

EXCEPT THE PROBLEM THAT THE RHYTHM METHOD DOESN'T WORK, YOU fucking MORON.
if you'd thought of that there wouldn't BE a problem.




But it's not that I don't like babies. I like them too much

Because I am apparently not smart enough to customize blogger to its full extent, here is a picture of my face all fucked up in photoshop. I tried to put it behind the header but it made it all wonky.



I feel grumpy because tonight was designated for a Lily photoshoot for my holiday card but I didn't do it right and the film got messed up and I even went all the way to the pharmacy to get a special battery and this nice latina dyke went out of her way to help me find it and all but I didn't want to go back for more film just because I'm a medium idiot for ruining the first roll. and all I have is little sister's point and shoot 35mm which she handed down after buying a digital for her special time in PA.

Damn it. Lily is too fat. The vet told me so. Which has led to her being hungry since I'm feeding her less and making an absolute fool of myself multiple times a day to make her race me down the block instead of the usual leisurely stroll. She is a fussbucket but every morning we have special Lily & mama time sitting on the couch. I drink my coffee and eat my breakfast and she sits on my lap trying to drink my coffee. But not if it's too hot.

In other news there's not much other news because I can't seem to make myself do even simple things I need to do. Stupid, difficult me.

Bird Story

Well. Lulu died this morning.

Turns out the things I thought were special preparing for motherhood behaviors were actually very sick finch behaviors. She's not even my bird. Wasn't, I mean. Well, isn't, depending on what he did with her tiny birdbody. I kept finding myself saying "our bird" in describing her, though.

She looked like this. thanks to the picture taker. My camera phone didn't do so well in the low light through the bars of the cage.

He, her owner my roommate the Catholic, bought her and her partner Joey (who for many weeks was of indeterminate biological sex) to cheer himself up after breaking up with someone. He just showed up with these two tiny birds a few months ago, and asked me to help name them, so I did - Joey and Lulu. Then he gave them last names, the last names of some "little saints," although I've never heard of them.

And of course I quickly grew quite fond of them, they're very sweet and mild. Their little chirps and songs are endearing and quiet, very unobtrusive. Then usually in the morning, once or twice, there would be this weird two-tone stressed out call, and a few times I looked over when that happened and he was trying to mount her...

So she laid an egg a few days ago, but I guess the environment wasn't quite right for her to nest, and she just dropped it on the bottom of the cage and it broke. Then apparently she was trying to lay another egg for 36 hours at least, and the Catholic said that when he came home late last night she was sitting on the nest trying to lay, but by the time I got up at 7 she had fallen to the floor of the cage. She just couldn't handle it, I guess it's called being "egg-bound" and happens to finchese because they're just so tiny.

She was so light when I picked her up, like nothing. Poor love. I wish it hadn't been so difficult these past few days. Now Joey is sitting and singing from his cage, probably wondering what the fuck is going on. A widower, and so young too.