The title of this post originates with me recalling my ownership (back in the Junior year of highschool) of a quaker parrot named "Inca." My co-worker Ericka couldn't take care of him anymore--she already had a Military Macaw and some other kind of "big parrot"--so she asked if I would adopt him, and I said "Sure!." I had always wanted a pet bird. Inca was small, had a grey head and bright lime green body, and when he stretched his wings the undersides of the feathers was a bright sky blue.
I really loved that bird. He could be the cutest damn thing ever. In his small avian mind, he sincerely thought he was my 'boyfriend.' So whenever I came home from school and I was relaxing in my room, he would start whistling and 'talking' to me to get my attention. He'd come up to me, press his beak against my cheek, and make a "kisskiss" noise, and he loved to take baths in shallow tupperware dishes and splash me with water and make a chuckling sound. He liked to have his head rubbed and he loved popcorn treats. I'd go, "Inca, be a pirate!" and he'd lean his head over to one side and go "arrrrrrrrrrrrr." He also liked to perch on top of the "SHREK" cardboard cutout I had gotten from Hollywood Video where I worked at the time, and reclaim his birdy domain. (*Downsides: he crapped on almost everything, and he would shriek if he got upset).
My mom made me get rid of Inca because he dive-bombed her, and my younger sister.
I gave him to a local pet store, and they found a new 'adoptive' home for him with a 28-year-old single woman in Illinois who loved the bird even more than I did, and certainly could spend more time with him (I was in school and at work most of the time, even back in highschool...yeesh!). So I guess that's a happy ending.
Yesterday BF helped me re-do my book cover in photoshop. It was so much fun. I haven't had that much fun actually learning since, like, elementary school.
My Dad got me lunch--sushi and carrotcake--yesterday as well. I don't know if my stomach is still upset from that combination, or perhaps from my later eating of figs and salad-on-the-verge, but my stomach is kinda messed up today.
I saw Robert P. from my highschool yesterday. He was telling me the latest gossip--that one of the popular boys from highschool, Sam K., is now a gay porn star. Apparently his 'performance name" is Sammy Case. I was kind've in shock about this. On the other hand, looking back in retrospect, it seems as though all the Popular Boys at my highschool had that fabulous vibe.
Tomorrow I have my last midterm, a major test in Philosophy on Descartes. I anticipate much studying tonight. At least I'm not going to be hammered out of my mind like a lot of people here who take St. Paddy's Day very, very seriously.
The one thing is that I wish I had a Green Shamrock cookie, those soft buttercookies with the yummy smooth green frosting and little sprinkles. I love those! But it's probably healthier that I don't have them.
Oh, and did I mention the disaster? BF's Powerbook G4 is totally broken. We are going to try to fix it any way we possibly can, but this is a problem because he was supposed to perform a live set of drum 'n bass that he had composed (and saved) on the laptop, and now he can't. :( :(
Damn you, Steve Jobs, and your closed-platform operating systems! Curses!