Rio's Homecoming Photo Journal: Commentary by Rio...

Ok...so, as you all know, my mommy is a leeeeetle psycho about me. I mean...seriously...can we say stalker? So, I've decided for her that I'm going to take control of this little project and tell you what was REALLY going on the day she abducted me from the only home I've ever truly known... I'd say that's fair. I mean, if you think about it, yeah...she's dealing with a bird now, and it's a big change...yada, yada, yada. Think about ME. I grew up at the Pet Station. Kelly, Dee, Chuck, Jeff, LouAnn and the other birds...they raised me. I've been around other birds my whole life. So, here comes this chick (now known as Mommy) and we sort of click. Next thing I know, she's spending all her time with me, and like any male would...I'm diggin' it. What I didn't know was that she intended to uproot my entire existance as I know it. Now there's kids. I don't really understand kids. They seem important to her, so I'm trying really hard not to rip their pert little noses off. The dog. You know what? I don't even want to talk about the FUCKING dog right now. I'm pissed enough that I'll start using what mommy calls my "Potty Language"...and then I'll just be put in Birdy-Prison and that's not cool... The hubster seems pretty cool. I mean...cooler than I thought he was going to be anyways...he's nice to me, talks to me...anyways...it's all good.

Here's the pictures.

She's snappin' pics while I'm trying to preen my favorite little rope toy. Hey...ropes need love too. I think she's getting getting around all my stuff at this point, trying to tell me it's "all gonna be ok..." Uh huh. Yeah...Riiiiiigggghhhht.

This is my stuff. On the left you'll see a big ass bag of pellets. You can toss those...I do. I eat real food. And when I say real, I don't mean pre-packaged bird crap. I'm not a bird. I mean...sure, I LOOK like a bird, but at heart...I'm all human. I like pasta, I'm a HUGE fan of tacos, and I suppose I should throw in that if you insist on treating me like a bird, Walnuts and Pecans are a fan favorite...

Anywho...those little bags of stuff...yeah. $150 bucks worth of toys for me. I'll have her trained in no time. Those toys will last me about...ohhhhh...two weeks? Maybe a month? She'll learn to either be crafty and make me toys herself, or that she likes bartending enough to get a few more jobs...

The pet carrier...we'll get to that in a minute. I did mention that I'm NOT a pet, yes?

I'm saying Ciao to Marshall in this fine picture. That little shit's sorta grown on me. From what I understand though, he'll be going through the hell that is my existance soon enough...except he's got the KIDS to look out for him. Bwaaaaahahahahahahahahahaha. Sucker!

Mom says that we can't play together. It's really stupid, if you ask me. Apparently, she saw some picture in BirdTalk Magazine where a Macaw ripped off an Eclectus's beak. Something about me having a birdy-tude and not trusting me? Seriously...I'd only do it if he REALLY pissed me off...

Mommy acts like this paper is made of silver bells and walnut meat or something. She guards it with her LIFE. What I'm not completely understanding is why she nearly freaked out when I reached out and grabbed it out of her hands right after she took this picture of me. She spazzed all out, got on her hands and knees and scooped it up to give to Kelly, the Manager of the store. Kelly made some comment about the second mortgage finally being paid off or something? I dunno. I think it might have something to do with this stuff for why Marshall still gets to hang out at my old home...they talked about it a lot. Mommy growled when she heard the number that she has to meet for Marshall to come home. She looks mean when she growls...

This is the pet carrier I was telling you about. There's no perch in here. There's no food dishes in here. I am faaaaar from being a happy camper right now. Then, THEN...I finally get to go outside and see what it looks like out there and do you know what those insensitive pricks did?! They covered my whole carrier up with a towel. And they wonder why I bite...

I'm home. Mommy bought my cage that I'm used to so I wouldn't TOTALLY freak out. (as if...) She has hung all my new toys up, and I'm actually kind of diggin' it. This is the first few minutes I was home, after she got my toys hung up. She took me for a tour of the house, but honestly, I don't remember a helluva lot because, well...frankly I was petrified out of my mind. I'm a calm perso....uh, bird, but seriously folks...what would you do faced with this situation. Prison for your whole life, then being given the run of a big ole' house? I was scared. I'm coming around though...slowly but surely.

This is my freakazoid dog, Murphy. In this picture, she's sporting her new collar (that matches her leash) that she got as a consolation "You've been replaced by the hottest creature to fly the planet in at least 4 years" present. Her eyes say she wants to eat me. Her drool suggests that in a timeline that would make her happy...that time would be RIGHT NOW. I'm a prey-animal...I instinctively know these things. Trust me. She's so picturing me between bread.

So, in response to her longing look, this is the look I give her. It's my "Who's the bitch Now" stance. You like? Mommy calls it "ScaryBird". She mocks me. She's all..."Ooooh. Who's mommy-wommie's big scawee birdy? Is Ri-Ri mommies big scawy birdy?" I've learned not to say what I really think because she either puts it on video, or puts me in my cage and says that I have to watch my "Potty Language" around the kids. What she can't understand is that I'll get that damn dog if it's the LAST thing I do...

I think we can all agree that I'm just dead sexy all soak and wet. This is my first shower at home. I freakin' LOVE the shower. It's warm. It's comfy. It's like what my wild-caught friends tell me the rain forest is like...it's awesome. Mommy's all freaked out about making sure her "pieces-parts" are edited out of all the photos. Dad took these ones. Mom kept yelling at him to "Stay focused!" I'm pretty sure she was talking about making that camera-thingy work...

I'm so auditioning for the Chirpendales Calendar for 2007. I'm so hot....


And that's it for pictures so far folks...but stick around. She's a picture takin' fool when it comes to me...like I said, she's a bit obsessed I think. I like things around here for the most part, with the exception of the bleepin' dog. I haven't bitten anyone, and I'm trying to see just how many buttons they'll let me push right now just to see what the pecking order is. I guess in the end, all that will matter is that the stupid dog...is at the bottom of it!!!

Beaks and Feather Hugs...

Rio

Up all night...LOL

So, I've been sickly-sickly. When I was a kid, we'd try to get out of going to school with a phrase that sounded something like "Bamba -- Ohmmm Seeick". That's how I'm feeling right now. I'm done puking (FINALLY), but on top of the flu, I apparently got bronchitis too. I ended up being sent home early from the bar on Friday night because I spent two hours of my shift in the bathroom hovering over the toilet (ewww...). Apparently, it's not good for business when your manager keeps disappearing into the bathroom for extended periods of time...

So, yes...Rio is home. It was an awesome homecoming...I have PLENTY of pictures to show you, but I've been up all night long with Alex (whom is now in the puking stage of HIS sickness) and well...it's 6am and I'm wiped out. So, I'll post them when I get up. I don't have to work tonight, so I should have plenty of time to show them to you.

I bought the new Sprint PPC-6700 Pocket PC Phone. I figured...sweet. New Windows 5.0 operating system...completely syncs with my pc, can get my mail from anywhere...can access my computer from anywhere and can edit all of my Microsoft Office apps from anywhere...right?

Yeah...I HATE it. So, last night, I was in the middle of a liquor order, on the phone. It's a touch screen, just like any regular PDA. During the call(s), my earring put it on speaker phone, hung up on the sales rep, dialed some random person at 2:30 am, and then called and got my grandma out of bed...

Then, it's backlight shut off, and since it's a touch screen with no actual buttons for your numbers (after all it IS a phone...), I couldn't see to dial it. No amount of monkeying around with the start menu, settings, or even a soft-reset fixed it. Finally, I got pissed, slammed it against the bar and it came back on.

The little bastard is on its way back to the store. I sent it to work with Jas, and he's exchanging it for the Sprint Blade -- Sprint's answer to the Razr. I was all excited about the little keyboard on the ppc-6700...and honestly, I can say I'll miss that part of it. I do A LOT of text messaging. But, the rest of it...I want a phone first and a PDA second. It would be awesome if they could be in the same little device, but I need something I can shove in my pocket and actually do some work with. I don't have time (or the finesse) to massage an electrical piece of shizen's already overly stimulated ego to make it work.

When it rings...I want to answer the damn thing. When it's in my pocket, I don't want my grandma to be talking to my underoos...

More when I get up...

sdk

I'm Icky-Sick.

Yeah...coughin', pukin', the usual. I actually called Brian in to cover for me last night, and then tonight decided to go in regardless of the fact I'm still sick. (Rio comes home in the morning, and I figured I can be just as miserable at work as I can at hom, and it would pass the time quicker...) My boss called. She said "So...you just had a 24 hour bug or what?" I said "No...I'm still not really, uh...processing anything through my body. I'm still sick." She said "Sweet. So, you're sick, and waiting on customers?" I said "Yep. If they cared about germs, Chris...they wouldn't come here..." She said "Good point." I love my job.

I keep going back and forth between being sick and being almost sick. Last week...I got all body-achy and stuffed up and feelin' like there was a Volvo parked on my chest, then got a ton of sleep, felt better...then three days later go through it all again. I guess I wish if I were going to get REALLY sick...I'd just get on with it already. If I'm gonna get really sick, I'll take a few days off, (but not off the couch) and get over it already. If not...freakin' let me get on with being normal.

So...what oh what do I talk about tonight? Hmmm...

Oh! I can tell you about Valentines day. Mine didn't suck, for once.

First, Jas suprises me with a new outfit, a bag full of Victoria's Secret (not the super-sexy stuff...get your mind out of the gutter...I got bra's and panties...normal stuff. Though...I did get the new bra that has the gel-stuff in it that makes you look all Pamela-Andersonish...that was cool), and tells me that Rio's coming home Friday. This was Monday night.

Tuesday, on V-Day, we decided to have a special occasion glutton night. We crammed all of our favorite things into one night. So...I went and bought 8 pounds of Jumbo Alaskan King Crab, made our favorite garlic mashed potatoes, made my famous cheddary biscuits, got three huge boxes of chocolate (marischino cherries, the little round trufflles and turtles), a strawberry cheesecake, a half gallon of Superman Ice Cream, and an 8 pack of Mountain Dew (Yeah...I just never get sick of the stuff), and we sat down in front of American Idol all whilst cramming all of this stuff down our throats. It rocked.

I was starting to come down with this whole sickness deal, so he still didn't get any...but it's ok, because I think we were both feeling a little bloated and sugar-coma'd out anyway.

Lemme see...what else? Um...we were dead at the bar tonight. It was ok because the people who WERE there were all good friends of mine. So, it was basically a night out with the gang, and as per usual, I was the sober one.

Eric and Jen came in. Eric cracks my shit UP. He's the typical gay friend that all of us girls have that you just freakin' love. He's an Aveda Consultant/Hair Dresser with a phd in philosophy, and you just want to squeeze his cheeks he's so damn cute. Jen is your typical Goth-Girl with piercings all over her self who is so brilliant, you swear you can see the glow that surrounds her super-sized brain. They are a freakin' riot. Eric sings, and I love to listen to him. He sang Bridge Over Troubled Water, which of course brought tears to all of our eyes because the last time we heard him sing it was at his Dad's funeral last year. It was amazing.

Ummmm, Chris (not boss-Chris...Friend-Chris) ended up going into the ER tonight because she's sick too, and I'm thinking probably has Strept Throat...her throat was so swollen that I couldn't see past that little hangy thing in the middle. (Isn't that called the Uvula or something?!) So, Brian took her in. I don't know what the results of that adventure are yet. I'd imagine that with Foote Hospital's delightful system, she's probably still sitting in the waiting room waiting to be seen. It's 3:38 am, I got the text message at 10:14 pm that she was going, and yeah...I'd say that's probably about right. She'll see an actual physician somewhere around the apocalypse.

I'm so geeked about Rio coming home tomorrow. I can't even begin to tell you. I mean...I have this thought bubble/daydream cloud above my head that's playing re-runs of all the cool stuff this damn bird and I are going to do together. I've been waiting for a long damn time to bring him home, and I just can't stop thinking about it. I don't think I've been this excited about something since I was a kid.

I just imagine his antics, his clownish little attitude...and I just think it's going to be awesome. It's like having a live-in comedian. He's hillarious.

One cool little thing I picked up today (or really...just figured out after all this time) is that his high-pitched screech that he emits -- actually has a purpose. I finally correlated that the scream comes after he sees or hears a new person come into the store that he doesn't know....but only when he's on me. It's his alarm-cry. He's telling me that there's possible danger near, and the tone he tells me in is DEAFENING. I finally put it together when I had him up by the counter at the front of the store, and a woman came in. Screech 1. Then about 3 or 4 minutes later a second woman came in. Screech 2. Then, a guy came around the corner of the bookshelf that I didn't see come in. Screech 3. Then cash, the manager, Kelly's husky jumped up onto the counter with his front paws...screech 4.

At least it has a purpose. Now, I can work with that. When I finally figured it out, when he'd screech, I'd say "Thank you, Rio. I see it." Then, he'd get comfortable again, and go back to whatever it was that he was doing (gnawing on a button, preening my hair, trying to get that persistent brown stain off my cheek ((mole)), spinning my necklace around and around my neck...that sorta stuff.

So...that's the scoop of my day. How was yours?

sdk


oooooh....ps! I uploaded more pics to the Flickr account. Some of the bar, halloween, a few of one of the great big searches we did this past summer...there's a hillarious one of a car. Go check that one out. Actually...that car deserves it's own post. I'll get to it...LOL

Yeah...you just have to see this.

You still pissed about Valentines day? Yeah? Well...until you're pissed enough to turn into this guy...count your blessings.

sdk

Catch-up - Smatchup.

Yeah, so I wasn't any better at blogging the other blog than I am this one. Where does one find the time to blog, blog, blog?

I'm just going to go with it, I guess. I had grandeur thoughts of opening yet another blog, one for the birds, one for the kids, one for the marriage, one for the bar...but screw it. Green Apples is the best one out of all of em, and well...I'm ok with that. I like this blog, and I love the people who visit it. So, I guess I'm gonna stick with this one afterall.

I'm going to take you through a little photo-montage of all that's been happenin' with me lately.

First, Jas and I are doing really good. We ended up going to a marriage counselor, and screwing her WHOLE world up. For those of you who had access to the other blog (which is now deceased), you know why her world got tilted. It was actually pretty comical, looking at it. The conversation went something like this:

Dr. X: So, welcome to marriage counseling. First we're going to outline your problems, then we'll talk a little about them, and then we'll work on those problems. So...in your opinion, what is your largest fault in your marriage?

Me: Well, Doctor...we've been seeing other people for the last year and a half.

Dr. X: Huh. Really? I mean...Huh. Ok. (furrow in the brow, staring out of the window for a moment, looking back at us, looking at the wall, then drops head and furiously starts scribbling on her notepad.)

Dr. X: (after recovering from the shock that is my marriage, lifts head, starts to smile like she's got it together) Well, I'm thinking that you two are going to need a little more than a few sessions to take care of your issues. Mrs. DK...how does it make you feel to know that your husband is dating other women?

Me: Well, I'm at the point where it's going to be all or nothing. Either we make it work with the two of us, or we cut up the license that says we're married and move on with our lives.

Dr. X: And Mr. Dk, how does it make you feel knowing your wife is dating other people?

Jas: What she said. (pointing at me.)

Dr. X. Ok. Well...I think that by coming here today, and accepting that you have a problem, addressing that issue, and agreeing to act like married folks, well...I think we can agree that you should see some significant improvements in your marriage just by making those choices.

And...she was right. We have agreed to work on us, forsaking all others, and we're giving it the old college try. When I wrote last, I'm so not kidding that I had full intentions of checking out of this marriage. Things are much better now.

Rio comes home Friday. Marshall will be home in about a month. We still haven't been able to afford to just pay his little feathered ass off and get him home, but we're working on it. Christmas put a huge dent in the money I had hoped to use for him...you know how it goes. But...Rio is coming home day after tomorrow. Hallelluja, I can hear the angels singing just thinkin' about it.

I've got pictures of Marshall...I'll share. See captions for explanations...

This is Alex and Marshall. Marshall got his name because Marshall is my hometown. It seemed fitting for him. He's quiet, quite dignified, and a little snotty. Yeah, that pretty much sums up Marshall, Michigan.

Marshall's trick...Put em' up!

Then we say "Bang!", and this is the result. He falls over backward like he's dead. After he's home, I'll take video of it and upload that. It's hillarious.

One of Marshall's draws is how damn sweet he is. You can do just about anything to him and know that he isn't going to rip your face off. He's a big lover-lover. Except when we play....

Little Green Football. He REALLY hates that game.

It turns him into "Little Green Ball-O-Hate"

Bar-Life is going a-ok. Here's a funny story that just happened Sunday night...

So, two guys come in. One is dressed very nicely. The other, looks like a blue collar worker with slobby tendencies. White Collar guy goes and plays pool with Deanna, a very cute 30-something patron. Blue Collar guy sits at the bar and proceeds to get shitfaced. After about oh...3 or so hours of him slugging back cans of Miller Lite and shots of Quervo, he gets up, walks over to John, another patron and frisks him. By frisk, I mean he started with Dude's legs, working over his ass, up his back and chest to his underarms.

John, half in shock, half enraged says "Uh...Shan...do something about this guy. Will you?"

Me: Just what in the sam hell do you think you're doing?

Blue Collar Guy: My job.

Me: And, pray tell, how might you think it's your job to frisk my customers?

Blue Collar Guy: I'm his body guard. (pointing to white collar guy.)

Me: Are you law enforcement or acting as a party for law enforcement?

Blue Collar Guy: No. He's a cattle rancher from Montana up here to buy cattle. It's my job to protect him while he's here.

Me: Riiiiiiiiiight. Well, if you can't produce a badge or identification that specifically tells me that you have a right to put your hands on my customers, I'd knock it off or I'll ask you to leave, and then we'll bring REAL law enforcement into it. Mmmkay?

Blue Collar Guy: (Grumbles something incoherently.)

So, a few minutes later, White Collar Guy comes over, and I see them quite obviously talking shit about me. I walk over and explain why I'm pissed.

Me: Did your friend explain to you why I'm upset with him?

White Collar Guy: You're a very beautiful woman.

Me: Thanks. Apparently, I'm a bit of a pain in the ass too. Your friend here told me that he's your body guard, which gave him the right to put his hands on my customers. That would have flown, except where I'm from, body guards that are on duty aren't allowed to sit at the bar and get hammered.

White Collar Guy: Good call by you.

Me: So...if your buddy doesn't want to keep his hands to himself and play well with others, I'll ask you to leave. Deal?

White Collar Guy: Deal.

A few minutes later, they are gathering their stuff to leave, when Blue Collar Guy comes over and starts in with his shit again.

Blue Collar Guy: Who manages this bar?

Me: I do.

Blue Collar Guy: You do?

Me: Yep.

Blue Collar Guy: Well, I just wanted you to know that I am pulling your liquor license tomorrow morning?

Me: On what grounds, Dick?

Blue Collar Guy: My name is Jim.

Me: Huh. You look like a Dick to me.

Blue Collar Guy: (Slams beer and leaves the bar.)

***When I go to clean up where he was sitting, I find that JIM, (or Dick, whichever you prefer) has left me a 12 dollar tip. Teehehehehehehe

****And...a side note...we still have our liquor license.

This is me and Chris...my closest friend in Jackson. She and I are pretty much inseperable. She is Brian's girlfriend. My other best friend. For those who had access to the other blog, you'll remember that I was having some confusing thoughts about Brian. I'm over it. Thank God, so is he. So...I set him and Chris up. Nothing ever happened between Brian and I, and I'm thankful for that. You'll see a pic to your left of Brian and Chris. They're still in the honeymoon phase which can be a little nauseating, but all in all, I'm ecstatic for them.

So...that's the scoop for now. I'll definitely photo-journal Rio's homecoming. I'm so freakin' excited that I can't even begin to explain it. The plan right now is to be there at 9am on Friday (which also is payday) and bring home his cage, food, toys etc, and to put him in a cage where he can see what's going on and bring him home. I plan to let him hang out in his cage for pretty much the majority of the day with only short periods out to "investigate" the house. I think he's going to be pretty freaked out about the whole situation, but hopefully he'll understand it's a good thing. He won't be confined to his cage 99.9% of the time anymore.

Next part of the saga...teaching Murphy that she's NOT a bird dog, contrary to her instinct and beliefs...

Oh...one last thing...I took this little test, and te-hehehehe...apparently, I'm psycho, I mean psychic...