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. . . clear view.
We went out to Circuit City, for one; nearly missed it on the highway, but Kevin caught the sign hiding behind some large bushes and we went in. It was impressive; we did a whole circuit (uh, pun not intended when I wrote that) around the floor and failed to find what we were looking for, so we asked for directions. All is now well.
Since we were in that area anyway, I asked if we could go ogle birdies and snakies, so we went to the pet store where we usually ogle birdies and snakies. The birds were making a godawful racket; it soon became clear that this was because one of the pet store people was cleaning out cages, and so all the birds were excited. The conures were climbing up onto the front of their enclosures -- when the I guess plexi panels in front of them were taken down, there was a handwide piece of plexi still there, and they'd reach up, hook their beaks over the edge, scrabble frantically for a while, and then at least some of them would make it up to perch. Some didn't, and made disconsolate peeping noises. (It reminded me a lot of the Presidential Fitness Exams.)
We went to ogle the reptiles for a bit. Many cute geckoes, and a small girl who wanted a turtle instead of a thing that was too garbled for me to understand, but which I suspect may have been in the reptile-amphibian end of things. The baby burm had a head I swear the size of Kunda's but a neck the side of my pinky -- little tiny thing with baby-head-scale issues. Then we went back to ogle the birds again, but got briefly distracted by an octopus. There were also things that may have been sea cucumbers, but they didn't do much, which is one of the reasons I suspect them of being sea cucumbers.
Anyway. The conures were still perching on the edge, and flapping their wings and being excitable, and a couple of them made a break for it. One was fielded successfully by the pet shop person, and I went around and got the other one -- it was wingclipped, so instead of flying away, it managed a glide at about a thirty degree angle. I suggested, "Step up," to it, but it wasn't old enough to know such things, so I scooped it up in my hands. It flapped at me, and then maneuvered around by delicately siezing my fingers in its beak and swinging around. The pet shop person took it from me and returned it to its enclosure.
The lory was playing in its food, which was pap about the right consistency for baby food. What a horrible mess. I'm not sure what the shrieking birds were, but I should look them up so as to be sure never, ever, ever to get one. Might be a blue-crowned Amazon; I already knew that Amazons were screamers. Okay. The pair of young greys were attempting to chew through the bars of their enclosure; I didn't really have the heart to explain to them that it wasn't likely to work. There was a single Senegal in all this chaos, demonstrating why the poicephalus birds are so likely to stay in their first homes: amidst all the noise and hubbub, all it said was, "Glurbp?" I spent a while playing parrot games with it.
We parked at Kevin's office, like we usually do, 'cause we can walk to the T from there. First we went into the Cambridge Brewing Company to have dinner. It was Really Damn Loud, I Mean Really, and I couldn't see the screen by the bar to figure out how the game was going. I had Moroccan Spiced Chicken, which reminded me a lot of curry without the sauce; the spicing, I mean.
We went downtown, took the T into Harvard, and actually got to Pandemonium just before it closed. Spent a while poking around; no Athyra, though. Sob. I came away with a strange impression that I knew the guy behind the counter, but no eartly idea from where. The new layout is neat, but I don't know where everything is anymore.
Went to Wordsworth Books after that because I wanted to get a travel guide to Montreal, since I'll be there for a few days while![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
brooksmoses is at his conference, and since I'm not going to the conference, I have puttering about time to myself. They didn't have My Book, but they did have, first time I've ever seen in a real live bookstore, two copies of The Ethical Slut. None of the other poly-relevant books, though, but at least now I can say I've seen poly-relevant books in a real live bookstore somewhere.
I love this city, I have to note; when we came out of the T (this goes chronologically before Pandemonium) there were a couple of guys with guitars busking, one doing bass the other doing, I don't know, melody. They were having fun. We also passed two acoustic guitarists, someone singing Soppy Teenager Love Songs (on the road between Harvard and Brattle) and at the usual corner behind the entry to the Brattle T there was a mime done up like an angel. (This is where we usually store the mimes.)
We went puttering about to find the shop where I can buy henna (I need to redo my hair) but they'd closed. We headed back to the T; Kevin got a Vanilla Thingy in the can't throw a rock without hitting a and we drank that on the way back to Kendall. In the Harvard T there was another busker, this one playing on something that might have been a dulcimer from hell; it sounded . . . very strange. I went to the other end of the station, even though my left hip had gone out again. Kevin says I was limping.
We were going to try to go see Minority Report, but that was at 10:10, and it was 9:35 when we left Harvard, so we didn't bother trying, we just went home, driving alongside the fairy bridge. (I wonder when that will open.) We occupied ourselves on the way home having a wee argument about the difference between violin and fiddle, provoked by "Good Riddance", a Green Day song, on the radio.
The Sox lost, but so did the Yankees.
We went out to Circuit City, for one; nearly missed it on the highway, but Kevin caught the sign hiding behind some large bushes and we went in. It was impressive; we did a whole circuit (uh, pun not intended when I wrote that) around the floor and failed to find what we were looking for, so we asked for directions. All is now well.
Since we were in that area anyway, I asked if we could go ogle birdies and snakies, so we went to the pet store where we usually ogle birdies and snakies. The birds were making a godawful racket; it soon became clear that this was because one of the pet store people was cleaning out cages, and so all the birds were excited. The conures were climbing up onto the front of their enclosures -- when the I guess plexi panels in front of them were taken down, there was a handwide piece of plexi still there, and they'd reach up, hook their beaks over the edge, scrabble frantically for a while, and then at least some of them would make it up to perch. Some didn't, and made disconsolate peeping noises. (It reminded me a lot of the Presidential Fitness Exams.)
We went to ogle the reptiles for a bit. Many cute geckoes, and a small girl who wanted a turtle instead of a thing that was too garbled for me to understand, but which I suspect may have been in the reptile-amphibian end of things. The baby burm had a head I swear the size of Kunda's but a neck the side of my pinky -- little tiny thing with baby-head-scale issues. Then we went back to ogle the birds again, but got briefly distracted by an octopus. There were also things that may have been sea cucumbers, but they didn't do much, which is one of the reasons I suspect them of being sea cucumbers.
Anyway. The conures were still perching on the edge, and flapping their wings and being excitable, and a couple of them made a break for it. One was fielded successfully by the pet shop person, and I went around and got the other one -- it was wingclipped, so instead of flying away, it managed a glide at about a thirty degree angle. I suggested, "Step up," to it, but it wasn't old enough to know such things, so I scooped it up in my hands. It flapped at me, and then maneuvered around by delicately siezing my fingers in its beak and swinging around. The pet shop person took it from me and returned it to its enclosure.
The lory was playing in its food, which was pap about the right consistency for baby food. What a horrible mess. I'm not sure what the shrieking birds were, but I should look them up so as to be sure never, ever, ever to get one. Might be a blue-crowned Amazon; I already knew that Amazons were screamers. Okay. The pair of young greys were attempting to chew through the bars of their enclosure; I didn't really have the heart to explain to them that it wasn't likely to work. There was a single Senegal in all this chaos, demonstrating why the poicephalus birds are so likely to stay in their first homes: amidst all the noise and hubbub, all it said was, "Glurbp?" I spent a while playing parrot games with it.
We parked at Kevin's office, like we usually do, 'cause we can walk to the T from there. First we went into the Cambridge Brewing Company to have dinner. It was Really Damn Loud, I Mean Really, and I couldn't see the screen by the bar to figure out how the game was going. I had Moroccan Spiced Chicken, which reminded me a lot of curry without the sauce; the spicing, I mean.
We went downtown, took the T into Harvard, and actually got to Pandemonium just before it closed. Spent a while poking around; no Athyra, though. Sob. I came away with a strange impression that I knew the guy behind the counter, but no eartly idea from where. The new layout is neat, but I don't know where everything is anymore.
Went to Wordsworth Books after that because I wanted to get a travel guide to Montreal, since I'll be there for a few days while
brooksmoses is at his conference, and since I'm not going to the conference, I have puttering about time to myself. They didn't have My Book, but they did have, first time I've ever seen in a real live bookstore, two copies of The Ethical Slut. None of the other poly-relevant books, though, but at least now I can say I've seen poly-relevant books in a real live bookstore somewhere.I love this city, I have to note; when we came out of the T (this goes chronologically before Pandemonium) there were a couple of guys with guitars busking, one doing bass the other doing, I don't know, melody. They were having fun. We also passed two acoustic guitarists, someone singing Soppy Teenager Love Songs (on the road between Harvard and Brattle) and at the usual corner behind the entry to the Brattle T there was a mime done up like an angel. (This is where we usually store the mimes.)
We went puttering about to find the shop where I can buy henna (I need to redo my hair) but they'd closed. We headed back to the T; Kevin got a Vanilla Thingy in the can't throw a rock without hitting a and we drank that on the way back to Kendall. In the Harvard T there was another busker, this one playing on something that might have been a dulcimer from hell; it sounded . . . very strange. I went to the other end of the station, even though my left hip had gone out again. Kevin says I was limping.
We were going to try to go see Minority Report, but that was at 10:10, and it was 9:35 when we left Harvard, so we didn't bother trying, we just went home, driving alongside the fairy bridge. (I wonder when that will open.) We occupied ourselves on the way home having a wee argument about the difference between violin and fiddle, provoked by "Good Riddance", a Green Day song, on the radio.
The Sox lost, but so did the Yankees.
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