The Chipmunk has a question

The Head Chipmunk (HRC) has a question the overrides all other questions in this second week of the spring season. It's a simple question--"for this, I went to grad school?". The question pops into HRC's acorn addled brain a lot these days:

When she must meet with a barely competent sloth to discuss his consistent body odor (you have a PhD for God sakes, man...I mean, sloth…can't you figure out how to shower)?

When she must "counsel" a sloth on his obsessive discussions of his divorce and "horrible" ex while HRC worries and wonders if he may go off the rails one day. Does this sloth hate just the ex or all pussy cats?

"Counseling" a super sloth that while this job is as close to being self employed as one can be but still get sick time, PTO, employer health insurance/pension etc, it's not being self-employed so you gotta show up, do the basics, turn in required paperwork on time, etc. and when you tell HRC that the reason you resist responding to her emails and requests for work product is because you have issues from your childhood with authority (the HRC suspects its female authority only)...see thats really just called being a passive aggressive sloth.

When she ponders what is up with grown man-sloths who wear only shorts to the forest office year-round in even freezing cold weather.  Man-child sloth? And if you are going to only wear shorts, please don't free ball, too. None of us need to see that and the HRC is totally willing to counsel you on that and you don't want to see the toothy look on a nutless chipmunk's face as she discusses your peek-a-boo balls and their inappropriateness in the forest.


And it is with all this she sits in her quiet corner of the glen, closes her door and thinks, "For this shit, I went to grad school?"

For This I Went to Grad School 2

File this under the topic of "for this she went to grad school?!"-- today HRC had to explain to a certain Golden Eagle Dean what "free balling" was. After a far-too-lengthy (hahahaha) explanation (because the Golden Eagle was missing the subtler explanations), the Chipmunk finally got thru to the bird brain. As the Golden Eagle Dean turned a feathery shade of pale, HRC left the inner sanctum of the tree of knowledge quietly singing her new favorite song "cuz I'm freeeeeeee, freeeee ballin'". Today was not a "win" for higher education in the Glen.

HRC is Elected!

The HRC has been unanimously reelected Chair of the Woodland Glen. Seems her gnawing on the base of the trees that support the nests of those who reside "on high" has favorable support after all.

The Week that Was

"The Week that Was"

The Chipmunk scribbled some notes from a few happenings she knew she wouldn't get time to write about. She is calling them "The Week that Was":

•The Tale of the Passive Aggressive Cat (they purr and cuddle and act all sweet and then rip your arm off when you aren't petting them just right). The Head Chipmunk gently confronted the cat on her aggression. The cat rolled onto her back and gave a surprised purr of "who me?". The Head Chipmunk pulled on tiny oven mitts to prevent further scratches and moved back in with a little more direct communication. The cat began to dart about as though chasing a laser beam toy while high on catnip. And then, with the beautiful steely eyes that only exist in felines, she lied right to the round, flappy cheeked face of the Chipmunk-in-charge. The Chipmunk took note, made note, and it struck a note. Chipmunks have long memories like their elephant friends.

•What the Hell is Wrong with Melanin Deficient, Heteronormative Critters? Even the best seem just so darn stupid sometimes. Is an empathic understanding of marginalization really that difficult? Not everyone has experienced living in the middle of the Glen their whole lives. You have peripheral vision. Use it.

•How Critters Destroy "The Cause" by Thinking They Are Its Champion (aka its a fine line between reflecting the evils of Forest patriarchy and just re-enacting it. Assuming one knows the difference probably means one is lost even/especially the Head Chipmunk).

"I don't mean to cut you off, but..."

A second part to the Forest Ranger's meeting in the form of a question:
Why do nutted Forest Ranger's say to the nutless "I don't mean to cut you off but..." when that is exactly what they mean to do?

The Head Chipmunk pointed this out in the meeting. With a berry packed smile.

A video to explain what happened when the HC went before the Forest Rangers

The Chipmunk came, she saw, she gave it her best. She lost in the end. But the Forst Rangers were left stunned. They commented that they were "enlightened" by the Chipmunk's presentation. It disturbed the HC a great deal to see such important decisions handed over to 30 Forest Rangers be made, not by the HC's powerful data, extensive research and ability to skillfully fight each point that was made despite terrible odds....but rather the decision was made based on the FR's continued reference to their own experiences while in College Glens...many years before.  None of them seemed to have one lick of awareness that their very pale and almost all white experiences did not reflect the diverse tones in the HC's Glen...the colorful, diverse butterflies.

But at least the HC got away to fight another day.

Park Rangers, Golden Eagles and the Head Chipmunk

Today is the day. The HC will appear before the Park Ranger Committee to make her case that the beautiful butterflies should not be forced to take remedial class after remedial class before learning to fly just because they weren't born in the Glen. The HC will bring letters of support, cuddly critters from her Glen, from other Glens (because if the HC's Glen is forced to comply, other Glens will surely fall next...the HC's Glen is like a firewall between the Park Rangers and all the other Glens it seems). She has her armor shined and her words carefully chosen.

She has breathed deeply and promised herself she won't turn into a Tasmanian devil and go on a tirade (though she can't guarantee as the HC is not a diplomat or a politician but was fine tuned to be an activist...which is why she repeatedly turned this job down for she knew she lacked the graceful skills and impulse control and "equanimity" required for this kind of leadership. She is best suited to be one of the crowd, civilly disobeying and challenging the authority....not playing nice in meetings....but somehow she ended up here and it exhausts every one of her reactive nerve fibers to try to not carry signs, take a knee and yell "Topple the Patriarchy" to the very Rangers she needs to help her).

But sadly, though not unexpectedly, the Golden Eagle and a Bald Eagle friend informed the HC that they now do not support her cause. Well, they do "in spirit" but will not in public. It seems that the HC is not the only critter without nuts. The Bald Eagle mentioned something about taking the "path of least resistance". The HC supposes that is easy for someone who can fly wherever they want to go. But the HC is on the ground where there are brambles, and roots and mounds of decaying butterflies who didn't make it all the way. The eagles can't see all that from up high, she thinks. They have forgotten. "Least resistance?" she scoffed. "Ha, I don't seem to have that map in my GPS". The Golden Eagle was surprised to find out that the HC was still going to appear at the Park Ranger's meeting. The HC said, "I learned from my mom, Silver Sable, that some things need to be said. And I learned from The Movement that change is like water on a stone. You must keep at it, drop after drop. Eventually the stone will wear down. You can't be upset when one drop doesn't seem to effect change."

But the truth is, the Head Chipmunk thinks the rock looks very, very big today.