Wednesday, March 10, 2004
 

The Neighbors Must Think I'm Insane, Vol. 389759479

So I'm wearing my uniform: black yoga pants (extremely floppy) and black sweater (with neat little crocheted flower motifs, one on the sleeve, one on the bottom front, one of the upper back). As if it needs stating, I'm barefoot. I'm outside, tearing up a stale bagel for the birds. I'm also carrying around a little baggie and picking up pieces of styrofoam packing that are scattered out back, to prevent the birds from ingesting those. Seems that the pellets may not be directly dangerous to birds, but better safe than sorry. At any rate, this process requires me wandering into the neighbors' "backyard" area. So the temperature is somewhere in the 40s, and I'm barefoot and wandering around, feeding and protecting wildlife (mainly these black birds with shiny blue heads; I don't know what they are, but they've got nasty little attitudes). I'm doing the all-black thing, and of course I'm at my usual not-quite-goth-but-getting-there paleness threshold.

But at least I disposed of the bagel and got the birds fed. Food for them, dinner theater for Alice, who watches very closely (and digs her back claws into the linoleum from sheer excitement).

Elvisette philosophized at 3:38 PM