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Cold Turkey

The mystery of the windshield-darting fowl has been solved.

And not only am I unable to differentiate hawk from owl, but hawk from owl from…..turkey.

Yes, my friends, contrary to all probability and reason, a turkey has made up its mind to sail into my life (and windshield) on a regular basis.  With a chip on its proverbial shoulder (turkeys have no actual shoulders of which to speak).

The encounter was brief, but I got the message.  It went a little something like this:

Okay, we didn’t arm wrestle.  (But I would totally have kicked that turkey’s ass if we had.  Stick legs vs. arms?  Please.  Or it might have scratched my eyes out.  Probably there would have been pecking.  Alright, the turkey totally would’ve kicked my ass.)

The point I’m trying to make here is that this bird has an agenda, and for whatever reason, I’m on it.  So far as I could tell, the message he was attempting to convey was basically this:

In your face, person!  Thanksgiving is over and I’m still standing.  Which is more than I can say for your last blog post.  Total dud.  Did you hear those crickets chirping the last time you checked your stats?  ‘Cause I sure did.  I ate some of them.  But don’t worry, I left plenty for your next post.  Feedback’s a bitch.  Oh yeah, and I can fly.  So eat it.

“That’s cold, turkey!”  I yelled back, stung and not a little bit jealous of the epic pairing of punnery and irony I’d just heard (why can’t I come up with stuff like that?) but I don’t think he heard me.

I think we can all agree, ladies and gentlemen, that what we are dealing with here is a stone cold Meleagris Stultus Crudelis, colloquially known as a jive turkey.

Being no bird expert (see above), I cannot, of course, confirm this.  I can’t even prove that the creature that kamikazed my car yesterday afternoon is the same one I encountered a few nights ago.  But I have to think that such anthropomorphic and reckless behavior is unusual among garden variety turkeys.

Plus everybody knows jive turkey assaults usually coincide with a drop in temperatures.  ‘Cause they’re so cold.

  {Knock it off!  I told you- no chirping during the blog!}

Fortunately I’ve learned how to handle cold.  Here’s a crash course: you give it as good as you get.  You turn it back on itself, and transform something debilitating into something tremendous.

With that in mind, I will take this opportunity to tell you about a few things I’ve cold turkeyed (absolutely that’s a verb!) in my life, and what I learned from those experiences.

Facebook Gaming

I admit it.  I am a recovering FarmVillain.

Let me explain.  I’m not referring to the FarmVille knock-off game, FarmVillain, which I learned about when I googled “FarmVillain” after I first thought of it as a term to describe rabid FarmVille players and wanted to make sure no one else had coined it first (sometimes I get proud of myself).  No.  My use of the term is meant to express the degree of menace that creeped into my person and life when I got sucked into the vacuums of time and reason known as FarmVille, Cafe World, Mafia Wars, et al., ad infinitum.  I spent hours- hours– every day planting seeds and harvesting cheery little cornstalks, monitoring gumbos to make sure I didn’t lose hungry customers, and naming virtual pufferfish while Novella and all her brothers and sisters ran wild around me, as neglected children are wont to do.  Bills, housework, real work, exercise, all secondary.  Nothing got done.  And I mean that literally.  Nothing was all I was accomplishing.  One day it occurred to me: This thing that I’m doing, isn’t anything.  You will not see any return on this investment, ’cause IT’S NOT A REAL FARM AND YOU ARE NOT ACTUALLY PRODUCING ANYTHING.  I could scream when I think of how much of my life I wasted on such nonsense.

Moral to this story: Never let your electronic life eclipse your real one.

Black Friday Shopping

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Sure, it was a little fun standing in line in the freezing cold, making friends with complete strangers- as long as they weren’t looking to purchase what I had come for once the doors opened- and being part of an American “phenomenon.”  Until it wasn’t.  Walk in the door and they hand you a trash bag?  It’s cool that it’s got the store name on it and all, but…it’s a trash bag.  I’m supposed to fit all my bargains into a trash bag?

“Sorry, all the carts were snapped up by the first 1,000 patrons.”

Oh.  Initiate disillusionment.  The rest goes like this:

Sweet!  They still have (some large item), and they’re right here at the front!  One down.  What else was on my li- oh.  Gone.  Now, where was that…oh, yes, it’s in that section on the other end of the store.  Excuse me.  Sorry, excuse- hello?  I just need to get through here- EXCUSE ME!  Damn this thing is heavy.  Hope I don’t tear the bottom out of my trash bag…ONE HOUR LATER…gone again.  This is a pretty good deal, I might as well grab that, too, to make this whole thing worth it.  Geez it’s hot in here.  I should shed some layers.  ‘Cause what I really need is something else to carry.  What the hell is going on over there?  Yikes.  Is that what I’ve become?  What time is it?  I’m tired.  I’m going to go check out.  The line ends WHERE?  Mother&%$#…

I went home, got up a few hours later to get myself a super cheap Wii Fit at Target, stood in another line, and went home, feeling anything but exhilarated.  Never did it again.  I must admit I do love my Wii Fit.  But I couldn’t name any other “bargains” I scored that night/day, with one exception, that being the large item I picked up within moments of entering the store and hauled around in a trash bag for three hours.  It now sits in my basement, having never been used.

Moral to this story: Never let a momentary life blunder eclipse a life of knowing better.

My First Boyfriend

This guy was one of earth’s class acts if ever there was one (here’s a towel to mop up some of that sarcasm spillover.  Sometimes I get carried away).  I’ll spare you the details, but I should have known what I was in for after I was stuck in a car alone with the guy when we first started “dating” (I use the term extremely loosely, as he only took me on…um, let me count…one date in the entire year I wasted on him {oh wait, technically his mom took us, so he didn’t really take me on any dates, so much as accompanied me on a sorry excuse for one}).  But I didn’t know any better.  I was sixteen, inexperienced with life and guys, hopelessly naive and an easy target.

Once again, I had a moment of epiphany- eventually.  I realized I could change my life.  I didn’t have to stay where I was, with whom I was.  Everything could be different.  Everything should be different.  So I made it different.

Moral to this story: Never let the life you’ve lived eclipse the life you’re living.

So eat it, jive turkey.  The crickets are all yours.

*If you, or someone you know, is a victim of ongoing abuse in a relationship, I urge you to talk to someone you can trust about what’s happening.  Don’t wait.  If you don’t feel safe talking to anyone you know, has a 24-hour hotline available to assist you in finding help in your community without putting yourself at further risk.  Life can be different, and you are capable of more than you realize.  Don’t listen to any jive turkey that tells you otherwise.

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2 thoughts on “Cold Turkey

  1. Hahaha this is awesome. Congrats on quitting all those three. 🙂

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