A gross story about ears except not really, because then I remembered another story, sort of like an inner ear story....

Hi World:

Two weeks ago, R started complaining about her ear.  It had water in it, it had wax, she was sure there was a tumor, she wanted to cut off her ear just like Van Gogh, etc. 

On and on with the ear drama.  R is pretty dramatic.  I am the opposite of dramatic. 

Well, except when it pertains to me.  Then I've been known to get a little dramatic.  In fact, right now, GG is remembering my eye drama of less than a week ago, which she was privy to only because we were engaged in a lengthy e-mail exchange when, frankly, we both had other stuff we should have been doing.  Then, in the middle of the email extravaganza, my eyes got a little wonky and all my drama was unleashed via a series of frantic emails that went something like this:

To:  GG
From:   Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God I can't see.  There are prisms.  I have to go check WebMD

To: Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Here is a helpful website

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject: OMG OMG OMG
Web MD says I should seek medical attention immediately.  I don't know what to do. What should I do?

To: Chicken
From:  GG
Subject: OMG OMG OMG
Uh, seek medical attention?
Here's another website

To: GG
From: Chicken
Subject: OMG OMG OMG
My retina might be detached.  Shit.  And your websites are talking crap about colors.  Stop sending them. I'm not seeing colors.  Forget about the prisms. It's like....it's like I'm inside a giant disco ball, and I'm looking out through all the little pieces of glass.  Seeing little jagged edges.

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Is James Frey there?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Ha ha, yes he is, but he is a little disjointed as usual.  Hey, that was kind of poetic, all that disco ball stuff.  You know, like me living inside a giant disco ball looking out onto the dance floor at all the other people having fun, but I can't because I'm stuck inside a giant disco ball 20 feet off the ground and I can only watch?  Through my jaded, jagged vision?

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
So did you call the doctor?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Maybe I could blog about it.  Or, or...or....maybe I could write a poem about it and post it on Bob Schneider's website!!

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
NO!  Stop posting crap on Bob Schneider's website before you get arrested.  That's just general advice.  No charge.  Now focus.  (haha, get it?)  What's happening with the eyes?  Do you need to go to the hospital?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Oh, it is going away now.   It has moved from the center to the sides. I suppose that is my retina peeling away.  So help me flesh out this disco ball thing.  Okaaay....I'm living in a disco ball....what do I seeeeee?  Oh!  There's a guy in a John Travolta suit, only he's wearing it in an ironic way, sooooo....it must not be the 70's....And, oh, oh, look over there!  It's a giant penis!  Oh wait.  No, it is just Piers Morgan.

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
So we're in Williamsburg?  You're stuck in a disco ball at a hipster party in Williamsburg?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Hmm.  Don't think so.  The ironic statement thing has gone too mainstream. 12-year olds are drinking Pabst and wearing over-sized glasses.  The Williamsburg crowd is probably wearing things woven from grass now.  And probably in a very earnest, socially responsible way.  A way that we've never heard of.  I'm thinking we're probably south of Boston or something.  Yep!  Definitely Boston.  See that douche dressed like a Kennedy?  Oh wait, that is a Kennedy.  Sorry Mr. Kennedy!  Oh, hey-you are drooling a little...yeah...right there....ok you got it. It's gone.  No, I'm busy tonight but maybe never?  (wink/shrug).  Okay, see ya then Doll.

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
And Chicken...Look over there!  To the left and behind the Giant Penis, yeah, is that...is that....trans-gender Barbara Streisand????  God, she needs to get a new manicure.  Long nails are so out.
Wait.  Stop.  Chicken.  How are your eyes?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Ha ha ha...look.....Kennedy and the Giant Penis are both hitting on Barbara....I think the GP might win this one...

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
Chicken!  Focus!  (snort).  Enough with the disco ball.  Your eyes-are you ok?  Are you still blind?

To:  GG
From:  Chicken
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
What?  My eyes?  Oh, yeah, I think you're right!  He IS pretending to be Jackson Browne.  Oh, look, he's trying to rev up Barbara with the Kennedy, hahaha. 

To:  Chicken
From:  GG
Subject:  OMG OMG OMG
I tire of you Chicken.  Let me know how it works out with the eyes.

And back to R and her Ear...where was I....
Finally, after a couple weeks of picking up q-tips all over the house, left over from R's pitiful attempts to dig the tumor out of her ear, I relented and took her to the clinic.

The doctor said "What's the problem?"

R said, "My ear hurts (and I probably have an ear tumor)", so the doctor looked in her ear.  And then he started laughing and called all of the nurses over.  And then they started laughing.  So R started laughing because she does that when she's nervous (instead of saying, "Hey, why are you laughing, my ear hurts- that's not funny assholes"). 

Then the doctor took out his doctor tools, reached into R's ear, and plucked out a.....

q-tip.

And then R said, "wow, I feel better".

The End.

Except it is NOT the end, because the nurse didn't want R to be embarrassed, which was really nice of her, or maybe she was just trying to be the center of attention because nurses can TOTALLY be like that, right AN?, and she told R that once she pulled a cockroach out of somebody's ear.

And that is why I am still up, World, because a nurse pulled a cockroach out of some one's ear and it reminded me of a book I read about a tiny spider that crawled into a guy's ear while he was sleeping, took up residence there, and slowly built a web all over his brain, but not before making him really miserable, not to mention crazy in a totally, "Heeeerrreee's Joooohhhnnny" kind of way.  I can't remember if that book was based on a true story.  But I think it might have been.

Now I can't sleep.  F'ng spiders are always ruining someone's day.  Have you ever noticed that?

Anyway, R is better and I'm not blind, so there's that.  Sleep tight, World.

Chicken out

Chicken Brunch

Good morning, World,

I lied about the brunch.  There's no eggs benedict here.  In fact, I can't even offer you coffee because when I shopped yesterday, I forgot to buy it.  BigB will be very sad when he gets up.  Would you like some tea?  I'm having Orange Bliss, but I have quite a selection.  Know why?  Because I buy tea thinking that I should drink tea, but in reality I only drink tea when I am out of coffee.  So please, have some tea.  A little later, I'll make us some pancakes.

See how it is sorta like brunch?

What's new with you, World?  Careful, that tea is hot!

littleb brought home a new dog yesterday.  Here is a picture:

Can't see him?

Yeah, us either. 

The new dog's name is Chunk.  Apparently, he looks a lot like his brothers, Sparky and Bushy.  Here's a photo of them:

See the resemblence?


Now I'm feeling a little bad about my trickery. Getting you here under false pretenses to look at photos of imaginary dogs is bad enough, but I can't even make you a cup of coffee.  Not my finest moment.

Let me make it up to you. Here, have this ketchup packet.  Kidding.  Here's a photo of  a cute dog.  And if you'd like to read a chicken/dog/ghost story, I went back into the archives to find this tale about how my old dog, Sam, and I encountered a ghost one summer day.

looks just like Sam but is not Sam.  Is a Sam imposter

And here are some nice brunch pictures to hold you over while I get those pancakes started.  Mmm.  There's bacon.  And mimosas!



Happy Sunday, World.  If it is a long weekend for you, you should go to brunch!  Ashes, if you are here looking for your surprise, it is down there:-)

Chicken out

Rachel likes Chicken and Chicken likes Rachel AND Ashes: A Blogging Memoir

Hi World:

Way back in January my friend Rachel, at the Rachel Chronicals , gave me a Stylish Blogger award.

Why, thanks, Rachel, and back at you.  I was drawn to Rachel's blog through her profile pic.  Is that cute or what?

I'm late in thanking Rachel because I wrote myself a note from my mother to get out of blogging for the month of January.  (Dear Blogosphere, Please excuse Chicken from blogging this month because she is real busy doing other stuff and can't come out to play, but will be back soon, love Chicken's Mom). 

And for you enquiring minds, you know who you are, I was NOT in rehab. If I had been, I would have gotten some autographs and photos and posted them here.  So no need to worry. Or maybe you should worry.  I guess it depends on your perspective. 

Anway, moving on.  Just today, I read another post from another blogging friend, Up from the Ashes, and it reminded me of Rachel, how she was so kind to me, and how we all encourage one another.   It is an important part of this blogging world for most of us. 

In case you are on a time limit today, which we all can appreciate, I'll give you the gist of Ashes post.

She spoke about not having a lot of followers and that she didn't mind that because she doesn't really like being in the spotlight-in the blogging world or the real world.  She decided to take a chance recently, however, in the real world, and is participating in a fashion show.  (Wow, way to make an entrance into the world, Girl.  Chicken + Fashion Show + Heels = No Possible Way. Dude.)

And because I know this blogging world to be a very friendly and encouraging one, I am here to encourage her to let her light shine in the blogosphere, as well.  I started to write a comment to her post, but it went on and on and on, and rather than harangue the poor woman to death, I decided to harangue you all.  But not to death.  So sit back down, darn it.

Chicken tangent:  Isn't harangue a great word?  I had no idea how to spell it.  So when I looked it up, Google decided that what I really wanted to search for was Harry Potter.  I'm getting a little sick of Google's arrogance, and there will be a post coming on that soon.

Anyway, back to the haranguing.  What I wanted to tell Ashes is that, with a few exceptions (and we all know who they are, because they are hilarious, mesmerizing, or just plain the sweetest, and we all read them), blogging relationships take time, but the rewards of developing those relationships are worth far more than the investment of time you will make.

In addition to the people I already know in real life who read and encourage me, there are also you guys-the bloggers I may never meet, whose friendship and encouragement mean a lot to me (especially during this very tough year). 

So what I want to say to my friend Ashes is:  Yes, you DO want to be the center of attention for the amount of time it takes someone to read your post.  Believe that, and believe we are interested in hearing what you have to say about yourself and your life in your own unique voice.  We can't get that anywhere else. 

I'm passing on this Stylish Blogger award to you as a promise that there will always be someone who wants to hear what you take the time to write, and there will always be someone that connects with it.  Unless you are a really mean clown or Hitler or something.  But sadly, even then, there will probably be someone.

BTW, those awards come with rules.  I know one of them is passing it on, and I think another might be telling us all things about yourself that we don't already know. 

THINGS ABOUT ME YOU MAY NOT KNOW:  I made littleb french toast this morning for breakfast.  I'll bet you didn't know that.  Also, yesterday I got lost looking for an event I was supposed to attend and never made it.  Did you know that?  Did you know that I get lost all the freakin' time?  Did you know that my own personal mantra is "It is the journey that counts, not the destination"? Good thing I really believe it, too, because I almost never end up where I meant to go.

Good luck, Ashes, with all your blogging efforts and your writing in general.

Rachel, thanks for wanting to hear my voice and for appreciating it.  I appreciate you, too.

I appreciate all of you.

Chicken out