Today my brother was asked to create a sign that read: “PLEASE DO NOT SIT DOWN IF YOU ARE WET.” This was to be posted in the placement agency waiting area.
I’m glad to see his many talents are being fully utilized. It’s kind of incredible to me that one spends years of one’s life studying and writing papers and conducting research only to end up making such signs. At least he got to be creative picking that font.
So, alas and alack I have been very neglectful of my poor blog. I blame Facebook and the stupid feature that is the status update. It is just too easy. It’s a trap, I tell you. You fall into this pit of self-indulgent and self-important blather. People I know have invented half-truths to make themselves seem cool. Or, what’s worse…they fish for comments with statuses that read “I’m sad” or “I’ve had it” or “Why are people so mean?” or “Phew, that was a close call.” Just SAY what it is you want to say already. I cannot say that I haven’t been slightly guilty of the aforementioned annoyances. I’ll let you know what I’ve been doing for the past (god knows how many) months I’ve neglected my blog.
Kitty Pulido is:
– just bought my glue-on nails for the Jersey Party…next up, sun-tanned colored pantyhose and Aqua Net.
– woke up this morning thinking it was Friday…weak!
– is trying to channel her inner Julia Child…and am failing terribly. Maybe should have hit the sherry a little harder.
– tried the Tonga Room but turned right around when we saw the 13-year-old beauty pageant queens dancing to I’m Still Standing. Now wading through a sea of big girls in booty shorts in North Beach. I heart SF.
– the ladies next door are going gaga for the new photos of Vladamir Putin…I think I even heard the phrase “Russian Fabio.” Yikes.
– might have to shake someone today. Hide people!
– it’s a little disturbing how many hits a search for “baby gangsta clothes” yields
– just passed a guy in a motorized wheelchair with a “bumper sticker” that read “Muff Diver.” Sheesh–I need a camera.
– “I didn’t recognize you…you look good today.” Compliment? Unsure.
– I may have to make a special trip to Memphis–the attorney just told me about a store that advertises “Clothes and Peanuts.” Yes, peanuts in a barrel (salted and not) and mauve stripper clothes…
– at the pig races!
– stealthily averted a skunking last night by the docks. That’ll teach me to walk and text at the same time.
– ok so…who steals a door stop from a bar? Sasha. That’s who.
– Overheard at dinner: “when I was a kid I thought wolves were the same as cats.”
– if being excited about a longstitch bookbinding is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
– is wondering why “Cankles and What to Do About Them” is listed as an MSN A-List Topic…sheesh.
– At the vet…animals always look so sad when getting their temperatures taken!
– listening to a lecture on dopamine depletion…fabulous!
– Reading a pretty bad script right now. My favorite line so far: “You’d kiss a deviant with cigarette breath?” I hope today flies by.
– Just heard a woman tell her little daughter to quit calling her “mommy” because she hates that word. Geez man, that’s cold!
– is an unintentional eavesdropper. I just overheard a gal in uncomfy heels say she wished she could take her shoes off, but she’s afraid they’d smell.
– I may have reached a new low. Romeo & Juliet: Sealed with a Kiss. It’s an animated movie starring….seals. I wonder how it’s going to end.
– Seriously…the last thing I need is some hawk swooping down and stealing/mauling/basically killing poor little Nacho. And I saw one stalking us this morning. Why you eyeing me son?!
– Kristin just told me she is going to be wearing a pearl necklace of burger juice this evening and I just don’t know how to feel about that. I miss that gal.
– I got water on the brain.
I think I might need to get more of a life. Plus status updates are lazy. For a person used to writing full-length blogs, anyhow.
I got kicked out of therapy for being too normal. I had sought it out after my mom passed away. I’ve been told by two separate counselors (counselors and not full-fledged therapists because I am not crazy enough) that I just need to be more communicative. I need to come out and talk about my feelings because I am too…reserved? I guess that’s why for the longest time people were weirded out by my response to my mom. I didn’t write about it much in my blog because I feel that some things are too private. I’d much rather read entertaining stuff than sad stuff and I imagine I’m not the only one. But then I guess I wonder if my blog writing was sort of becoming the way I conducted myself in life–only revealing glimpses, never discussing anything of real depth or importance. Is entertainment for entertainment’s sake so bad? I kind of don’t think so. Not only that…but I think that I am secretly revolting against the expose-all trend promoted by Facebook and Twitter. I really hate that crap.
Oh wait–I got off-topic. Do you know how weird it is to get kicked out of therapy? Talk about feeling like a failure–I can’t even do crazy right. The last counselor looked me straight in the eye and said, “Katherine, you’re fine. You’re cool–you’ve got a lot going for you and I think you’ve made a lot of progress. Make room for the real crazies.” And then he ushered me into the dimly lit waiting room and called the next patient. This is all before I had a chance to realize what was happening. At first I felt pleased–like cool, I hate this place anyhow. But then, I began to feel a little cheated. We hadn’t really had a chance to tidy up the many loose ends we had. And I had heard that Kaiser likes to do this to people–offer them 3 sessions then move on to the certifiably crazy. Which is all well and good–I get it–but what if I’m not done yet.
Oh whatever. All this talk of feelings just makes me hungry anyhow.
I met with my financial planner yesterday. I actually have one, yes. After we got the business portion of the meeting out of the way, it turned to a lengthy discussion about cats. I guess his wife and her dad are ga-ga over cats. Her dad paid to have Buffy the cat undergo laser surgery to clear up her sinus problems. When all was said and done, the poor cat had perfectly round nostrils and a perpetual case of the sniffles.
The father-in-law had another cat called Mr. Timmons. Mr. Timmons was large and didn’t give a fig. He’d sit in traffic. He used to stand up on his hind legs, grab a hold, and pee on car tires. This was the only way he liked to pee. When picking Mr. Timmons out of the litter (Note: Timmons’ father was some fancy and enormous stud – the breeder would have to rescue the females before he killed them while mating) my financial advisor watched as the breeder laid out a plate of raw meat for the kittens. Suddenly one gigantic kitten climbed over—literally WALKED OVER—the others to get to the meat and then ate it “prison style” with his elbows up. That won him a home instantly. Gluttony does have its benefits, I suppose.