The Day I Became a Black Belt

   Here's a brief overview of the more recent events in my life:

   My Mom was at work a few days ago, minding her own business, when she found a beautiful green and yellow parakeet outside of her office. She caught him and brought him home. My Dad came up with the most fantastic name for him.

   "Can I keep him?" I asked. 

   "Sure," was the answer, "You know he'll need to be taken care of and fed and bathed and talked to, right?" --that was the condensed version. Any kid who ever owned a pet knows that the above concept takes a bit longer to say. Anyways, I felt like a little kid asking to keep the wild animal she'd stumbled over in the yard. I'd never actually been in that position before, so it felt kind of cool. 

   "Yeah, I'll take care of him," I said.

   "Wait a minute," said the Pessimist, "You don't know the first thing about birds. You'll probably kill him."

   "Oh, I'm sure we'll figure it out," beamed the Optimist, her eyes never leaving the vibrant bird, "He's so pretty."

   "Well, he's nice looking but--hey, wait a second. How do we even know that it's a boy?" 

   "We don't. But he has to be a boy," said the Optimist with complete indifference to the subject.

   "What do you mean, 'He has to be a boy?'... what difference does it make?" asked the Pessimist.

   "If he's not a boy, then the name Dad came up with won't work. And it has to work; it's too good not to use."

   "It's been named already?" sighed the Pessimist, "Well, what's his name?"

   "Birdie Wooster," the Optimist grinned.

   The Pessimist glowered like Roderick Spode, "Leave it to you and Dad to name him something dorky. How many people are even going to appreciate that name?"

   "Any self-respecting nerd would get that," sniffed the Optimist, "At least, any of them who read."

   If anyone reading this blog didn't get that, you should be ashamed and go to the library immediately to brush up on your knowledge of Jeeves and Wooster.

   Anyways, long story short (well, more like short story long), I am now the proud owner of Birdie Wooster, the runaway parakeet. I'm doing my best not to kill him. After the bird adventure, you may well be wondering what the other events of my life are. 

   Well, I had a job interview at a local clothing store. It was a group interview. I think it went well. I wore some killer boots that I stole from my Mom (loooove you, Mom). And yes, "killer" in this context has a double meaning. They looked awesome and destroyed my feet simultaneously. Oh well, they were worth it.

   And in other news, we learned how to choke people today in Judo. I feel really cool. I also feel really cool because for just one day I became a black belt. ... okay, so it's not as impressive as it sounds. I forgot my white belt at home and had to borrow the Sensei's black belt. Even though I knew it was just borrowed, I have to say, I felt a little bit like Jackie Chan. I had to suppress the urge to do one of my cool ninja throws. 

   What can I say? It's the little things in life.