Tasted Like Chicken

End note regarding our birds, Tommy and Aja Remastered.  

They drove me bonkers so we gave them to a local Montessori School teacher I know.  Kinda like Paddington Bear, a whole classroom of kids can now look after them. And our house is so much cleaner!

I didn't want you to think we just disposed of them in some horribly unforgiving manner (like at 400 degrees for 30 minutes). Actually I kinda like them. Until they started squawking. Incessantly. With no discernible tunes or prose to admire.  Not even a few notes of 'Tommy'... or those infamous five notes from Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

Tommy and Aja Remastered taught me so many valuable lessons, though... 

1. Own a Dyson.  Especially if you have black carpet/rugs within ten feet of the cage.

2. Relationships are hard. Birds hurt.  The bite, they squeeze, they scratch your delicate hands to shreds.  When all you want to do is pet them.  "Here, birdie birdie birdie... shit!" is not a great way to start a relationship.  

3. Be the last one to leave the house in the morning or my husband will leave the radio turned on for them.  Talk Radio. All day.  No wonder they were so cranky.

4. If you're buying a pet just to name it something cool, get a fish. Or name all the woodland creatures in your back yard.  It's amazing how quickly Mr. Skunk will become a regular and Mama Dear will bring friends.  You can name the whole tribe... after dead rock stars or South Park characters.  They like that.

5. The golden rule... stay the hell out of PetSmart.

So, thank you James and Virginia, and Elizabeth Anne Clune Montessori School in Ithaca, for giving them what I could not... Budgie Love.

45 Days!

While we're on the subject...

Let's take this moment to also honor a real Winston Cup champion and supporter of good causes.  Maybe even mine if I can get the nerve to contact his PR people...

I think you all know his name by now.

If not, it's stitched into his belt.

45 days 'til Daytona.

Yay!

Avon Calling: Hypocrite in a Pink Ribbon?

Okay. I know why I've been stressed. But now I know why I am IN IT.

I've been struggling to rally. To fund raise. To be part of the Crusade ('cause quite frankly Jews shouldn't be crusading anything, especially with a capital C). I hate asking for money (my Dad is laughing his arse off in Heaven right now). I don't even like Trick or Treating!  I'll just buy my own candy, thanks.

I've been "pink ribboning" it for six years now.

IBCA Walkathon 2005

Being a survivor from the Class of 2005, I've supported/been part of YSC (Young Survival Coalition), LBBC (Living Beyond Breast Cancer), Feel Your Boobies (thank you Leigh for being such an inspiration that I am drinking hot cocoa from my now-collector's FYB Bistro Mug at this very moment!), ACS (American Cancer Society) Relay for Life (honored to be the keynote speaker at a kick-off dinner, it is the spark that created my video), and , of course, most dear to my heart, CRCFL (Cancer Resource Center of the Finger Lakes) - formerly the Ithaca Breast Cancer Alliance, I served on their board of directors for three amazing years, and was floored when a photo of my bandana-headed, bald self graced the back cover of their new brochures. (Click photo to enlarge)

I have a fucking pink ribbon tattoo. I opted not to have nipples. I could write a book about making the world a "mastectomy-friendly" place - heavy doors and high shelves suck, and a crammed clothing rack is forbidden fruit.

I've just been having trouble getting around the "finding a cause and a cure" part. Don't get me wrong... I am all about awareness. And access to treatment for those who need it, and of course medical research - I am a poster child for early detection. And I feel horrible for the people who suffer.

But why this Avon Walk? Why now? Why not crusade to find a cause and/or cure for drunk driving, or murder, or suicide, or child abuse, or war, or misread x-rays, or nicotine addiction? What about Fracking? And why oh why didn't we think of The Winston Knockers as a name! (Hellloooooo.... Avon calling!)

I feel like a hypocrite raising money for a non-local, mega-corporate, glossy covered foundation (SPF 15 please)... even if it is a kinda cool brand with some pretty good products. I do like the Skin So Soft line.

Then I realized... This one is not about me. I am IN IT for the person who let me name the team. The one who chose a tear-jerker photo for her fund raising page. The one who introduced me to National Lampoon and NRBQ and pot. The one who is getting ready for this walk like it's her first date.

I am walking for my sister. She has my support to support me.

And I need to let people know that this one is for HER. Her invitation to have me walk my feet off with her made me feel so honored, so appreciated, so "sure!", so cognizant of the fact that I will be walking in the memory of way too many people that aren't here to bore you with a blog.

If someone wants to honor me, cool... but as the "survivor part" of the Winston Cups: Hope & Diamonds team, I really really want to honor her.

For honoring me.

I love you, Lisa! Just please, no pink boas...

Rejected Team Names

1. Does This Pink Ribbon Make My Ass Look Fat? (shortened to DTPRMMALF to fit on bumper sticker, travel mug, mouse pad, and baby bib.)

2. What Curse? (Ha! Take THAT, Hope Diamond!)

3. Who's On Second? (this is about what I was feeling by Day 2 of the Pick a Name Game)

4. Dick's Picks: Washington DC -May, 2012 (two from the vault, you know)

5. Quadroboobia (although two are saline)

6. Which One's Pink? (oh, and by the way...)

7. Yetta Lester's Sugarless Cookies (still the best band name ever)...

Of course, the one we did pick (Winston Cups: Hope & Diamonds) may lead to a lawsuit, but publicity is publicity!  Bring it on...

Winston Cups: Hope & Diamonds

What the heck (read as Vott Dah Hake) did I just get myself into?

My sister asked me if I would be her other half for a team for Avon's major breast cancer awareness walk in DC this May.  Of course I would! What a great way to bond with my sister while raising awareness for breast cancer!

Maybe get a little PR for the whole Hope Diamond / Harry Winston thing... this could be fun!

What curse?  Our father, Richard Winston,
putting the Hope Diamond on a model.  1958?

Well, I am exhausted already.  Just deciding on a team name consumed my every waking  moment for three days.

Of course we have to wink/nod at the Hope Diamond (did I mention we have connections to the Hope Diamond, our great uncle being Harry Winston and all?) and me being the breast cancer survivor, I wanted to get kinda cheeky (refer to my victory flag pink ribbon tattoo post) and suggested The Winston Cups. My sister, the team captain and total-under-appreciator of NASCAR, proposed Hope & Diamonds... but I can't contact a past NASCAR Winston Cup champion (you see where I'm going with this?) for support when I sound like some Park Avenue princess... oh wait....

It's like trying to pick a band name.  We veered into odd territories for a few days... Quadroboobia... pitched possibilities via facebook posts... did I mention my sister is a G cup?  We took a step back, reviewed our goals, and finally decided on.... *drum roll*

Winston Cups: 

Hope & Diamonds

On location: yet another diamond reference...
Support Winston Cups!!!

I can walk 39 miles... I walk that in one race weekend at Watkins Glen.  I will start training tomorrow. When those snow squalls stop.  And if it turns into 36 miles of unstoppable hope and 3 miles of incessant whining, at least we can say we did it!  Did what, I still have yet to learn.  I hope there's a bubble bath at the end of it. And Swedish Fish.

I'm already exhausted and I haven't even opened my first legal document. Or raised a dime.

39 miles. Me and my sister. Hahahahahaaa!!!!

Dear Mr. Labonte...