Some Days Are Just Awesome

Listening: Runaway Train - Soul Asylum

It seems no one can help me now
I'm in too deep
There's no way out
This time I have really led myself astray

Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here nor there.

So far my vacation has been admittedly pretty awesome. I spend most of my time out with my friends or at work, and on the occasions where I'm not doing that, I'm at home doing enjoyable things like writing, reading, or drawing. As an added bonus, the Newfoundland weather has finally begun to not suck 24/7, so we've actually had a couple of really nice summery days lately. All in all, things have been pretty great.

Today, though, was rad.

A good friend of mine left for a European cruise at around noon today. Lucky. Anyhow, he wanted to me to come see him off at the airport, and I thought that would be cools, except for the fact that I didn't have a ride there. For the record, our airport is like, bordering on the outskirts of our city limits. It's not a close place. But nonetheless, I told him I would walk there to say goodbye. He said 'okay' but I don't think he really thought I would do it. Shows what he knows.

I was in the middle of a very strange and delectably sexy dream (involving attempted rape and some other guy named, I kid you not, 'Zeke Tusks') when my alarm clock went off at 9 a.m. I was up and out of bed like I had been electrocuted. As soon as I shook off the last vestiges of sexy-dream-euphoria, I began running around in a mad panic trying to dress for my walk while my dog yawned at me. Halfway into my pants, my doorbell rang. This proved to be my aunt and uncle. Apparently my cousin (their middle child) is staying with us for the weekend, so they stopped by to drop off his supplies and the keys to my uncle's enormous man-truck (for some reason), which is currently sitting in my driveway being huge. Since they were going out of town, I hinted at getting a lift to the airport. "Have a good walk!" they said gleefully before driving off. I hate them.

Finally I hunted down an appropriate coat, jammed my cell phone into my pocket and put my headphones in my ears, and set off for the airport. I had many grand adventures on the way, including several near misses with traffic (most of the walk involved busy roads and offramps), being attacked by a wiener dog, being chased off of a side road by a redneck hick who somehow thought it was his property, and narrowly avoiding being thrown up on by a small child. My life is full of adventure.

Anyhow, I made it to the airport in one piece. The whole walk took me about an hour and five minutes, which was way shorter than I estimated. Fortunately I ran into other people who were waiting to see the same friend off, and went in and hung out with them until said friend arrived. Many so-longs were said, and long story short, we turned to leave, prepared for a long walk back. Instead we ran into another pair of friends who had come to see the same person off, and they brought with them a plane letter. The problem was that said friend was already through security. Cue a long and needlessly complicated attempt to get said plane letter through security. The following dialogue is not fabricated. Every word of it was actually said.

Friend Mike: Hey, excuse me, sir? Can we give you this plane letter to give to our friend over there?
Security Guard: Let-ter? [lumbers over] A let-ter?
Me: ...
Friend Mike: Yeah, um. It's a plane letter for that skinny guy over there.
Security Guard: A let-ter?
Me: ...
Friend Doug: Yeah it's a letter.
Security Guard: You didn't see him before he left to give him his let-ter?
Friend Mike: Well, we saw him. These guys were a bit late.
Security Guard: Can you open it so I can see that it is indeed a let-ter?
Me: ...
Friend Mike: Uh, sure. [opens letter and shows folded bits of paper]
Security Guard: It's not instructions to make a bomb, is it?
Me: ...Sir, it's just a frigging letter.

Then the retarded security guard took the letter to the door where we could see our friend standing. But he didn't give him the envelope. Instead, he gave the letter to another security guard, who walked away through a mysterious door, then walked through security, then scanned the letter, and then walked over and gave it to our friend.

Generous mockery was done on the drive back from the airport.

I got dropped off at Tim Horton's to get something to eat (apparently I'm retarded and can't remember to eat when I get up and go for enormous walks at 9 in the morning) and then walked back to my house, concluding my grand adventure. The walk gave me the opportunity I've been looking for to enjoy American Doll Posse uninterrupted, and I believe I can now numerate my favorite songs on the album. They are as follows:

Big Wheel, Bouncing Off Clouds, Teenage Hustling, Digital Ghost, Girl Disappearing, Secret Spell, Devils and Gods, Code Red, Roosterspur Bridge, Beauty of Speed, Velvet Revolution, Almost Rosey, Dark Side of the Sun, Smokey Joe, and Dragon. (Considering that makes up more than half of the album itself, I think that's a good indication of how awesome it is.)

Now that that bit of mindless indulgence is out of the way, I have got to tell you the best story in the history of anything ever.

So my dog (Gracie) has this vendetta against crows. I don't know where it stemmed from, but she has this deep-rooted hatred of them. It is honestly the funniest thing ever, to see this five-pound ball of fluffy puppy go tearing out after a much larger black bird, barking her little lungs out. Normally the average crow reaction is to get mildly irritated and take to the wing, which probably communicates as victory in Gracie's little doggy mind. This has been her system of ridding our property of crows for the past seven years.

Until three weeks ago.

My dog, as usual, was camping out in our backyard for a little game of Bother The Neighbors. I was inside on the computer. Abruptly, I heard her going insane outside. We don't like her barking at the neighbors on either side of our house, but she continues to do it, so basically our only option at that point is to go out and bring her back into the house. Irritated, I got up and headed for the back door. However, instead of having to apologize to a beseiged neighbor, I found myself witness to the following scene.

My dog is roughly the size of a football, so you can imagine that she doesn't present much of a threat. She had stretched herself up to her full height (roughly my knee) with her paws on the fence, and was yawling up at a large black crow who was sitting there, looking down at her. This is a pretty common scene, so I waved my arm in the crow's general direction and uttered "Giddoutofit", which normally sends the more stalwart ones packing. This one, however, just sat on the fence and looked at me. Then he looked down at my dog and made the most obnoxious sound I have ever heard an animal make. It was a deep-throated clicking kind of sound, and it sent my dog into absolute hysterics.

I had never heard a crow make that sound before. I sat down on the deck to watch the drama unfold. I wasn't disappointed. Over the course of the next ten minutes, that crow proved to be the most entertaining thing that had happened in days.

In between making that obnoxious clicking noise, cawing, and mimicking my dog's yappy little barks (yes, he actually mimicked them. I have no idea.), he proceeded to hop to and fro along the fence, and swoop down into the garden right over her head, as though he was deliberately taunting her. It sounds ridiculous, but he literally would have had no other reason to do it, so I can only conclude that it was done to torment her. I will also point out that it worked; Gracie just about had an aneurysm every time it happened.

Finally Gracie was worn out from running around after this S.O.B. and collapsed in the yard, panting and watching him balefully as he hopped around on the fence. I was still sitting on the deck watching the drama unfold. The crow cocked his head at Gracie, then--I swear to God--made a cawing sound that was more like a laugh than anything else, and flew off.

I told that story to everybody. I thought it was amazing. I also locked it away in the annals of my memory for preservation forever, because I thought it was one of those things that you only experience once. Apparently I was completely wrong.

After I got back from my walk today, I let Gracie out the back door to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. It was one of those summery days I was talking about, and I figured she would enjoy it. Ten minutes later I heard her barking her head off. Figuring it was, yet again, a neighbor, I went out back... and found a crow sitting on the fence.

I shit you not, it was the same crow.

It has to be. He has exactly the same mannerisms, the same way of hopping along the fence and making that obnoxious clicking noise, the same mocking "bark", the same habit of swooping down right over Gracie's head and making her chase him. I practically had a heart attack when I saw him. "I do not believe this," I said, and sat down to watch. The crow is cool with me hanging around. I think he likes the attention, because he acts up a lot more when I'm watching.

I was so appreciative of the show that I went back into the house and got some bread to feed the little jerk. I set it on the fence for him, and he gobbled it up and disappeared. I have a strange feeling that neither me nor Gracie has seen the last of him, though.

I can't stand having an animal hanging around my house without naming it, so I've taken to referring to the little bugger as Doyle. It's Gaelic for 'dark foreigner', which I think seems appropriate.

So with that, I must depart. I have work in half an hour, and I need to go make myself look like I haven't been running around in a backyard all afternoon.

Adieu!

Icarus thinks that today rocked the cosmic taco. Also, she just wants to point out that the "attempted rape" was not what made that particular dream sexy at all. That was scary as hell. The sexy part came after.