For the Birds...
If you are a friend of mine, you will know that one of the things I loathe most (aside from all of the annoyances I have blogged about thus far) are birds. And I will admit, this loathing has turned into a fear. "Kind of an irrational fear, don't you think?" he said on the date. Yeah... it is kinda irrational, I guess. But here's the story:
My hatred first began when birds lived in the tree right outside my bedroom window. They would wake me up at the crack of dawn, just caw caw caw-ing and tweeeeeeeeeeeet... tweeeeeeeeeeet-ing, and it was never a nice melodic bird song. It was always a loud, annoying call that would come within intervals, so that it would wake me up, and then I would just lay there hearing it, waiting for it to happen again, like Chinese water torture or a dripping faucet.
The loathing of these birds outside my window transferred to a loathing of all birds. I even became more aware of the poop on my car, thus giving me more reason for dislike.
And somewhere in there my hatred turned to a fear. I flinch when they swoop near me, I cringe when I know they are around, and I admittedly jump if they make any kind of sudden movements whatsoever. The beach? Forget it. If I'm not sleeping, I'm probably looking out for gulls, and when kids feed them, I freak out.
So yesterday, I took the girls to the zoo, and guess what?
That's totally my hand!
They wanted to see the Birds of Australia, and I gave in, even holding my own cup of nectar! Of course, I was the first one a bird decided to swoop in from behind and land on my shoulder. I definitely freaked out, and the guy who worked there had to come over and take it off my shoulder and move it to my hand so I would stop standing there tense with my eyes closed. But whatever. Because once it was on my hand, it wasn't that bad!
Not that I'm going to run out and buy a parakeet or anything.
My hatred first began when birds lived in the tree right outside my bedroom window. They would wake me up at the crack of dawn, just caw caw caw-ing and tweeeeeeeeeeeet... tweeeeeeeeeeet-ing, and it was never a nice melodic bird song. It was always a loud, annoying call that would come within intervals, so that it would wake me up, and then I would just lay there hearing it, waiting for it to happen again, like Chinese water torture or a dripping faucet.
The loathing of these birds outside my window transferred to a loathing of all birds. I even became more aware of the poop on my car, thus giving me more reason for dislike.
And somewhere in there my hatred turned to a fear. I flinch when they swoop near me, I cringe when I know they are around, and I admittedly jump if they make any kind of sudden movements whatsoever. The beach? Forget it. If I'm not sleeping, I'm probably looking out for gulls, and when kids feed them, I freak out.
So yesterday, I took the girls to the zoo, and guess what?
That's totally my hand!
They wanted to see the Birds of Australia, and I gave in, even holding my own cup of nectar! Of course, I was the first one a bird decided to swoop in from behind and land on my shoulder. I definitely freaked out, and the guy who worked there had to come over and take it off my shoulder and move it to my hand so I would stop standing there tense with my eyes closed. But whatever. Because once it was on my hand, it wasn't that bad!
Not that I'm going to run out and buy a parakeet or anything.
posted by Jess at 11:27 AM
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