No, this is not an attempt at a twenty-first century koan. This is me wondering what the hell happened to my damn mind.
I had a post idea. I was getting ready for and then driving to work. So I couldn't stop to make notes. (KSP is really snarky about just stopping on the interstate. Except when they stop everybody on the interstate because it's closed, like, "sorry the morning staff called in and of course we don't have back-up staff on a weekend so SOL." KSP = Kentucky State Police. And this basically describes what happened to me driving to work Saturday morning which I probably already told you about unless I didn't because I really don't know what I've written recently. I don't even remember what I wrote yesterday. Or what I planned to write today, which is, possibly, the point of this paragraph/all of reality.)
Anyway, I didn't make any notes so of course that idea is gone forever. Since I can't remember what it was I'm just assuming it was the most poignant and funny universal truth ever written and you can't prove it wasn't. A few minutes ago I had a sudden great thought and I'm back at my desk trying to stay awake just a few more minutes until the library closes so I opened wix.com and . . .
Here we are. Hello.
Would you like the lyrics to "Puss 'n Boots" by Adam Ant? Maybe some Siouxsie and the Banshees? 'Cuz that is what my brain is made of, apparently.
Ooooooh I wonder if I can still do the Preamble to the Constitution a la Schoolhouse Rock?
Update: I have probably mentioned the absurd amount of vultures in this county. Seriously. I never saw a vulture in Kentucky (and very few vultures in general) until I started working at this library. And they often dine on the roadkill on the country highways. Like right in the middle of the damn lane. And they (the vultures, not the corpses / chow) get all uppity about having to move out of the way of cars. I have actually seen vulture roadkill, vultures that were hit by cars because they wouldn’t get out of the damn road.
And they waddle rather fly when they do deign to move.
Anyway, I turned onto the first of the two-lane roads on the way home. And there was a vulture in the road, but it was in the other lane, so I just slowed down (in case it waddled across the yellow line). And as I passed I saw there was also a gallon-size kitchen storage baggie with what looked like a roast (raw) inside.
???????????
So many questions. And a little miffed that someone is apparently tossing bags of meat to the vultures. If we shouldn’t feed stale bread to ducks at the parks, then I really think we should never ever ever feed bags of raw meat to vultures on the highway.
No, none of this has anything to do with my inability to remember, well, anything other than 80’s punk and new wave lyrics. But it is definitely more interesting and like a proper post.
I felt it was so important I actually added the wix app so I could write this update while eating supper and watching Miranda.
A final note: this app has the most insane autocorrect / autogenerate text I’ve ever met. I can’t even explain how crazy it is, the letters it has tried to foist on me. Wow. Just wow.
p.s. The alpacas were mostly hanging out by the front fence so I stopped in the middle of the highway like a damned vulture just to bask in their shamanistic Andean vibe. And the ones on the ground stood up and they all came right up to the fence to look at me — and possibly to call the sheriff about the weirdo stalker woman in the grey VW who stops every evening and staring and taking their picture. But they’ll get uaed* to me once I kidnap them and the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
* I typed “used.” I saw the “s” flicker and suddenly it was “uaed” which this autocorrect is telling me isn’t a word. I know it’s not a word. I didn’t type it. You changed my word to your fucked up uaed and got embarrassed and flustered and tried to pin it on me. Nope. This bird shall not fly. Like a waddling highway vulture.
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