Lucky I don't belong to any indian tribe because all the parents would envy mine and all the kids would think I'm a show-off. But that's how it goes when people remember you by so many things. To my primary school classmates I'm still (and probably always will be) 'the one with the bird'. To my vet I'll probably always be 'the one that's allergic to rabbits but has now saved the second one from his culinary destiny and has been happily poking her eyes and sneezing the last 12 years'. And the last few days I'm best know as Dances with wolves.
People around me find it quite peculiar that such a running mania has obsessed me in the middle of December and that I'm continuing with it in January. So it shouldn't be hard to believe that I can't find a partner to go running together. The other day I told a friend of mine that I'll have to stop the chat with him cause the Death and I are going running (at 7 p.m.) – and he said 'What??? Now? But it's dark outside!' Yeah, so? So I should move my 'evening' doggie walks to 2 p.m. from November to March or what…? I got accustomed to night walks a long time ago, when I had Latin in my first year in the University on Mondays from 18.40 to 21.00, which means that I had to take Sambo for a walk at 21.30 when I got back if I didn't want Sambo to miss his evening walk. So I got used to walk in the dark and since then I have no trouble at all with it.
'But… It's cold now!' And we won't go on any doggie walks because of the cold? Well, I myself have been a bit worried about breething the cold air while running, but the first time I went (at minus 6 degrees) I saw there was no problem. But still, even though I refuted any doubts anyone has served me I stil haven't found a jogging partner. Lucky I've got Sambo. For him it's never too cold, too dark or too wet; the moment he sees me in my running equipment he starts roaring and walking on air from the excitement. That's what I'm talking about!
And now a quick explanation of the second and third part of my hypothetical indian name – before you go any further and start imagining something really weird I have to say that our bird (the Amazon warrior) has a very expressed artistic side, especially when it comes to music. Whenever he hears something he likes, he gets in the mood right away and starts singing, whistling… So it happened a few times that I was in the garden listening to the radio and when the bird heard a song he liked he started singing, which of course lead to a super duo, dancing and singing our behinds off (me with my must-have Ukrainian accent, what else).
And the third part – the other day I was copying my notes from my Swedish class and since I had some problems I decided to enrol a local to help me out. So I went to get Olaf. He came to my room after quite a while and was really excited about it – he hopped around merrily, poked me with his nose and jumped on the table from the top of his cage and helped me find the right words in the dictionary. We studied together in such a manner for a few days (passing over to Chomsky's generative and transformational grammar), whereupon I got a bit bored without music and I moved our study group to this room, which has a computer. Thus we studied together in perfect harmony with the accompaniment of my favourite radio through the internet, when after about three days I thought to myself how lucky I am since Olaf is the only rodent (from mice, rats, rabbits and guinea pigs) that I know of that has never in his life decided to have a nice cable snack, which is quite on the top list of the favourite menus of the above mentioned furry critters. Meanwhile he jumped into my lap and stretched comfortably over my legs and I studied for about 10 more minutes, after which I decided to have a little break to reply to a few e-mails. I turned on the screen, started writing – and nothing happened. I tapped on the letters, nothing. I started cursing myself, thinking I pressed something that disabled my keyboard. Anyways, after about two minutes I got a bad hunch… I decided to check, juuuuuust in case, if my saint decided to leap into action for the first time in my honour. Of course he did. The cable of the keyboard was professionally cut into so that he just cut through the inside wire, leaving the plastic on the other side intact. Truly a masterful work. The furry monster is now on a forced leave and in the meantime the problem with the keyboard has been solved, so that I can type this message. And the moral of the story is – yeah, I know. Next time I'll think twice before praising publicly any representative of the opposite sex cause these kind of things usually explode right into my face with great pleasure. I hope I learned my lesson…
Ok, time to go now, it's almost 19.00.
I have spoken, howgh!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment