What is it with me and birds??

Seriously, is this the Chinese year of the bird? Am I working out some bad karma from a past lifetime? Is Alfred Hitchcock attempting to communicate with me from the grave?

First there was the drive-by vulture wrestling of last month, where me and the minion of death collided on a bicycle (well, I was on the bicycle, the vulture was flying obviously..).

This traumatic event has become such instant Cozumel legends that Rodrigo Rodriquez, who does the Living Legends on the Cozumel 4 You webletter wrote a poem about it!! (no, I didn’t publish it, it’s embarrassing!)

The other day, I was at Blu Bambu getting my haircolor totally changed (bye bye blondie!) and I’m standing over by the window, and I look up and screamed like a 12 year old girl. Literally about 2 feet away from me, and at eye level was this enormous albino peacock.

“oh, peacock, pretty..” you think. Not so. This was the nasty version of peacock. First of all it was hyperventilating (I didn’t even know that birds DO that) and it’s creepy forked beak-colored tongue was hanging out, and it was pecking at the window, like it wanted to come in and peck out my eye.

Katie (witness) who was with me tentatively tapped the window in a gentle attempt to encourage this freak of nature to perhaps pant elsewhere. No such luck, what the gentle tapping did, in fact do, was convince the disgusting thing to turn around.

Now, you’ve seen how distorted people’s faces are when they squish them into a pane of glass and make funny faces, right? Well, let’s just say that Katie and I got a birds-eye view of everything you ever wanted to know about peacock hiney. The worst part about it, because of the damn tail, the bird kinda got stuck, and the twist/mooning took place in slow motion.

“Eeewwww,” Katie actually said out loud. Unbelievably enough she actually had her camera with her and managed to snap a photo! The photo became incredibly important since as soon as the monstrosity tottered off I called the Fab husband, and told him the whole story, and he did not believe me.

It seems that there are some people out there who think that I have a tendency to exaggerate in order to make a story better, and the Fabster thought it was perhaps a large chicken or maybe a dove. And to all you naysayers out there, you know what I say? POPPYCOCK!