"famous angels never come through england"

Sep 30, 2010 10:31

Today began with me convinced there was a sad, possibly hurting cat behind my house. When I went out to explore, I found a neighbor who'd heard the same thing. She'd found the culprit first:

There was a parrot sitting on the bike rack of a minivan. As we watched, it squawked, meowed, grumbled, half talked, and meowed again.

"It's meowing," she said.
"It's taunting us," I said.

I don't know which was better: The simple, strange fact of the parrot, or the fact that the other woman who'd gone to investigate seemed to have a similar sense of humor about the whole thing.

And now I'm listening to music that gives me goosebumps, wondering if I can make an entire playlist of the stuff, or whether I should just slip over to Pandora and make a Throwing Muses station. I'm reading Kristin Hersh's Rat Girl and remembering the way Sarah and I listened to Red Heaven over and over again in my old Fiat. It was one summer; it sounds like "Pearl."

I wanted to post this to my other blog, but don't have the login at work. The one entry there is misdated and I need to remember to just have things to say.

life the universe and everything

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