Beware the (Potentially Suicidal) Ostrich

1. I have to warn you. I feel a looong blog list coming on.

2. You should probably turn back now.

3. I mean it.

4. Notice the sudden obsession with all things ostrich?

5. Yeah. That's just the beginning.

6. Still here? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you.

7. I saw several movies in the last two weeks: Karate Kid (Awesome Squared! Better than the original.), The A Team (Awesomesauce double-dipped with a side of Heeeelllllooooo, Bradley Cooper! And Liam Neeson. And a crazy dude who tried to jump start an ambulance with a defibrillator. My kind of guy.), and finally Prince of Persia.

8. Hence the ostrich obsession.

9. I mean, I've always kind of had a thing for them. Who wouldn't? They're fierce, wobbly-necked death machines. I can't really quantify the kind of awesome that entails.

10. But I can try. Here's a glimpse of the scene that got to me.




As soon as I saw the necks, I started laughing. I kept laughing long after most of the theater had moved on to the next ooh, shiny moment. Thankfully, I was with Myra, who was also laughing. Later in the movie, we learn that ostriches apparently have suicidal tendencies as well. A wobbly-necked death machine with emo depths. See? Awesome.

11. But truly, my interest in ostriches was reawakened here.



12. If I ever have to apply for another job, I'm going to put ostrich wrangler on my resume. You can't tell me that isn't a guaranteed conversation starter. And who wouldn't want a former ostrich wrangler as an employee? It shows I have MOXIE.

13. And also maybe a lack of common sense.

14. I spent most of last week at my company's home office doing a stint of mandatory corporate training. In that week, I managed to procure another pair of shoes, anger a pack of misguided Celtic fans, and maintain my lifelong vow to avoid ingesting deep fried pork rinds at any cost.

15. I also managed to walk straight into my hotel room's bathroom door.

16. Actually, I didn't walk.

17. I was clever enough to stand still and let the door come to me.

18. Turns out this hotel lacked wifi internet service and had abnormally wide bathroom doors. Two strikes against it, if you ask me.

19. Thankfully, I had no witnesses to the whole stand-still-and-swing-a-door-into-my-face event. The fact that I'm sharing it here with you doesn't count because, while I'm sure your imagination is vivid, you still fail to comprehend the magnitude of this moment of Epic Fail in my life.

20. Trust me. I was there.

21. I did, however, have witnesses to an event of much larger consequence the week before last. It's common knowledge with my management team that I have a love/hate relationship with most pieces of equipment in the managers' office.

22. Until last week, that love/hate (Which is sort of a misnomer because it implies something other than complete loathing. I assure you, COMPLETE LOATHING is the only truly accurate term here.) ... I've lost my place. Oh, yes. Until last week, that love/hate (COMPLETE LOATHING) relationship was confined to my ongoing (losing) battle with the various pieces of technology located therein.

23. The foul beast of a printer, for example, which constantly finds it amusing to seize upon my simple print requests, laugh in my face (Oh, yes, printers can laugh.), and spit out copious amounts of gobbledy-gook-filled pages so fast I can't even grab them before some of them hit the floor. And never mind trying to cancel a print job gone haywire. The cancel button is broken. Or doesn't like me. Or has a sadistic sense of humor. No ... the only way to stop the freight train of destructive tree-killing printing is to empty the paper tray before the printer can empty it for me and then refuse (despite its incessant whining) to give it more.

24. I suppose I could also try to unplug it, but this printer runs on demon energy so I doubt that would work.

25. I also have issues with the fax machine which likes to tell me it can't find a dial tone out of our building when I can SEE there are open phone lines for it to use. I used to panic and resend the entire thing over and over until the fax machine saw fit to stop sitting back sipping Mai Tais and getting a manicure long enough to actually do it's freaking job, but then one day I realized that when it actually got around to working, it would send EVERY SINGLE ONE of my multiple fax requests.

26. It's always fun explaining to a vendor why they received forty-seven requests for the same thing.

27. Of course, the fax and the printer both work beautifully for me whenever my boss is in the room. If he hadn't walked in on an Incident in which I was sprawled on the floor on my hands and knees frantically scooping up half-printed papers while the evil little piece of malice resting on the table above me spewed a continuous stream of paper onto my head, I doubt he'd believe my claims that technology and I go together about as well as gasoline and firecrackers.

28. However, in all my trials with the printer, the fax machine, the adding machine (You are not allowed to laugh at that.), and the computer, I missed all the warning signs of my true nemesis until it was far too late.

29. What could be worse than a demonically-fueled printer, a lazy, liar of a fax machine, a stubbornly geriatric computer, and an adding machine with all the symptoms of someone who went on a Red Bull bender and followed it up with five pots of coffee?

30. A chair.

31. Yes, dear reader, a chair.

32. For all the years I've worked there, we've had the same piece of crap office chair parked in front of the computer. It doesn't adjust to fit your spine. It doesn't adjust to fit your height. It's only claim to technological advancements is the fact it sports four wheels but even those don't roll across the floor without tremendous effort on the part of the sitter. I've never had a problem with that chair. We understand each other.

33. But one day last week, a manager brought in a fancy new chair. It adjusts to fit your spine. It adjusts to your height. And. It. Rolls.

34. It also looks nearly identical to our crappy non-rolling chair.

35. I was in too much of a hurry to tell the difference.

36. I backed up, felt the chair hit my legs, and sat.

37. The chair, with its fancy little rollers that rolled was already halfway across the room.

38. Did I catch myself in time?

39. Heck, no. I hit the floor, which refused to adjust for my height and refused to roll, but had zero problems adjusting my spine for me.

40. Naturally, I had an audience. I threatened instant, on-the-spot, and even IMMEDIATE death to anyone who took pictures or video and turned me into an internet sensation.

41. I'm saving that for when I bedazzle an ostrich and teach it to drop it like it's hot.

42. This is #42. Forty-two. 4. 2.

43. I did warn you this would be a long one.

44. I think I actually have about 20 more in me, but I'll save it for another day.

45. Also, my stint at corporate training (Whose classrooms all had rolling chairs ... I must have looked like an idiot as I clutched the arm rests, lowered myself carefully, and muttered dire threats against the chair's mama should it decide to take off for less imposing keisters.) ... I've lost my train of thought again.

46. Still blank...

47. Oh, yes! I remember now. I didn't have any sort of reliable internet access so you're still without the pizza+cat litter = Epic Fail story. I'll have to remedy that soon.

48. It's worth the wait.

49. Off to wrangle some ostriches!