I'm wierd

12-6-07
"Why did the turkey cross the road?"
"So we could cut its head off and eat it."
Not exactly the response I was expecting when I texted
J this evening. I'm used to the stock answers –
because the chicken got ran over or because the
chicken was on vacation. I ended up revising my
answer to "because the chicken already got its head
cut off." It just makes more sense here. In fact, I
think it will always make more sense his way now that
we've passed the 'cutting the turkey head off'
threshold. Our humor is evolving.
I smelled a recently killed chicken on my way to
school today. There is peculiar smell that goes along
with singeing the feathers off. Once you smell it,
you never forget it. I know the dead chicken smell.
Soon I'll be saying "I smell chicken blood!!!"
accompanied by a maniacal laugh. You might want to
intervene at that point….
I was reading the dictionary yesterday and came across
a word which basically translates to 'without smart(
bez-umnie).' It means lunatic. Why is it that I
remember words like lunatic and crazy but can't
remember medium to save my life! But to be the
positive person that I am, I'm sure 'lunatic' will
come in handy with one of my meetings with crazy lady.
In addition to knowing the smell of recently killed
chicken, I have another confession. As a disclaimer,
I know others who have confessed as well, so laugh as
you will, but I'm not alone! I talk to myself…a lot.
I find myself walking down the street to and from
school in full conversation with myself. Sometimes
it's in Russian. I like to practice with my head
because we always understand each other. Sometimes
it's in English because I get sick of speaking
Russian. Honestly, I hold pretty good conversations
myself.
People notice I'm sure. I'm hoping they think of the
habit as "American." Something all of us Americans
have in common. I am representing my country here. A
few weeks ago Launchpad and I had a conversation about
the best way to do the cover up. When someone notices
is it best to pretend I was on the phone? Or maybe
yawning? How about looking around like the companion I
was just talking to suddenly disappeared? Either way
it looks like I'm crazy or have an imaginary friend.
Maybe I look like a lunatic.
While I'm confessing, I may as well have it all out.
I don't like potatoes. I think of the potato as one
GIANT carbohydrate that my body doesn't digest. After
chewing it magically reconstructs back into the full
potato and then goes directly to my stomach or thighs
where it remains the lumpy thing that it was. I eat
potatoes every day. All Ukrainians eat potatoes every
day, and what amazes me even more is that when I ask
kids their favorite food they always tell me potatoes.
I'm actually astonished that they haven't come up
with more potato dishes. I get mashed, fried, or in
borsch. And really – do potatoes have any nutritional
value? I need to look this up.
So there you have it kids. I'm settling. I'm
becoming the village girl you always wanted me to be.
I smell dead chickens and talk to myself. Potatoes
are my mortal enemy and you won't convince me that
they don't reconstruct in my stomach. I can't think
of a chicken crossing the road without imagining
dinner and soon I'll become addicted to chicken blood.
It's been under nine months and I'm already "village
weird." Suffice to say, I look at the next year and a
half with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

____________________________________________________________________________________
Looking for last minute shopping deals?
Find them fast with Yahoo! Search.

http://tools.search.yahoo.com/newsearch/category.php?category=shopping