the time has come for a bit of an explanation.
i hate birds. they are rats with wings. they make me want to cuss.
as far as i can tell, this fear developed when partner and i were in venice. the venitian pidgeons are uncommonly bold and thought nothing of swooping upon us in such a horde that we literally stood in st. mark's square clutching one another. since then, the birds and i have been at extreme odds.
lately, their reign of terror has reached new heights of ridiculousness. north carolina seemed so tranquil. it was only upon returning to chicago that i realized it was because there had been no harrassment from the bird population.
in trying to rationalize the irrational bird fear to people, i've concocted a decent, appropriately irrational, hypothesis. while i will in no way attest to its veracity, it seems mildly plausible. so here's oline's own Irrational Bird Fear (IBF) Theory:
1. eyes are really gross. yeah they're great when you're wild about someone and stare deep into the mirror of their soul. but the minute anything goes remotely wrong they're totally disgusting. with a single stray eyelash, a beautiful eye becomes an inflamed mess, the rubbing of which produces an obscenely gross squishing noise that partner used to torment me with in pre-cal. i wear contacts so am resigned to being up close and personal with my own eyes, but the grossness lingers and an eighth grade shop class warning that you always have to stay awake during the surgery for eye injuries remains seared into my brain.
2. at some point i picked up the aforementioned hatred/fear of birds. this is obviously psychologically linked to the inherent grossness of eyes. for, i ask you, what is a bird but a spastic, flying eye poking out instrument walking on wormy feet and dressed in pretty feathers?
3. i wear huge sunglasses all the time. up until now this habit served three purposes: the hugeness protected my delicate complexion from being brutalized by the sun. the lenses protected my unruly contacts from rebelling. and, obviously, the glasses themselves were a jackie/audrey homage. but now i can't help but see them as some unconscious effort to keep the birds out. my personal anti-eye poking device.
so we wind up with a simple scientific formula:
eyes+birds= oline's nightmare
eyes+birds+sunglasses= oline's rationalization of IBF
but then, maybe my IBF isn't so irrational. they do, after all, make signs. and if they make it a sign, it's gotta have some validity.