It's days like today that I think "wow, I'm a loser" and my brain responds "heh heh, yeah you are, now find some food so you can eat your feelings". Ok, that's not a bad idea... Be right back...
OK! I have a Poptart. Where was I ?
Oh yeah, I'm a loser. (I'm sure most of you are sitting there like "Oh My God, she's just realizing this now???") Yes. Yes I am, and I guess I was ok with this for a while until I looked around and realized that I have no friends. I don't mean NO friends, but if I were to look through my phone right now I'd probably find like 2 people I'd call to hang out with. My friends have lives and school and other such things, and I guess I work and stuff, but things get lonely.
There's a point to this, I swear.
I remember my first three best friends were named Alyssa, Alyssa, and Melissa, (then there was Me. Courtney.... gross... why didn't my name rhyme?) we lived in Denver and went to the same preschool. Wanna know how I made those friends? I walked up to the Lego table and said "hey, you guys wanna be friends?" BAM! three friends. Like, what the hell ?? In the adult world that would be one of the weirdest things to do. Imagine a co-worker you never talk to, maybe they have stinky pits, or maybe they always groan when their candy is released from the vending machine, I don't know, someone you'd never gone out of your way to talk to, imagine they strolled (waddled, limped, demon-crawled) up to you and said "Hhhhey, wanna be frienddss??" all drawn out and breathy, you can feel your glasses start to fog up from their frito-smelling breath. ( I imagine everyone besides me is a total weirdo.) You (being a better person than me) would probably fake a smile and say "uh, Sure! Wanna grab a coffee? (bagel, cigarette, exorcism)?" and then you'll do everything in your reasonable power to avoid that person for the rest of either of your lives. (see if there's a different department/ branch that you can transfer to) and that would be that. Over. Done.
Here's the problem. You both have increased you friend circle by like .001% . (Which, If you didn't know, a normal friend is worth 1-5% unless its me. I'm 17% because I'm special.) So either way... Nothing happened there.
I'm trying to make friends / connect with old friends. Both are very hard endeavors, and I don't want to be Captain Frito-Face and creep someone out by forcefully imposing my friendship upon them. So here I sit... Eating a Po-tart...
Well, at last I have you all to talk to , so thank you very much for making sure I don't lose my mind. (What's left of it anyway...)
My best to all of you.
-Q
Friday, September 12, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
If that cat ends up dead, It was probably me.
Hello faithful followers!
Sorry for the crummy gap between posts, I am a notorious procrastinator and have a few dozen ideas for new posts that may or may not be seeing this keyboard anytime soon. Anyway, in case you care, I am in a happy relationship. I like this person very much and I hope to be with them for a long while. Unfortunately this relationship is continuously haunted by one large mistake. Before I go into too many details, let me 'splain a thing or two to ya'. I am a dog person. I. Hate. Cats. I think dogs are smart, fun, respectful and loyal, and kitty cats are little fur-packaged bundles of Satan. I have, since birth ( and possibly in previous lives..) been allergic to cats, and when I say 'allergic to cats; I mean, twenty minutes of exposure to the little fluffy killing machines will have me putting a bottle of benadryl into my system every hour for the next day or so, like my body's survival now depended on the constant river of nasty liquid that spilled down my throat. Without it, I'm a mess, a grumpy, pukey mess. Not unlike a hangover... not that I'd know!.... Bur despite all of these things, when a kitten strolled by my girlfriend and stole her heart (little b*stard) I couldn't say no.
So there's a cat in my life now. To be honest ( God, don't tell my gf this... Or my mother... Oh, they're reading this?? .... Looove you!!! ... heh heh... ) I was hoping that the cat would make an attempt at my life ( he could do this by merely EXISTING) and I would be put in the hospital with a IV drip of Claritin going directly into my blood, and poof! no more kitty cat. Obviously my life is more important that this cat having a loving home. (jeez, its a joke. back of ASPCA!) But nooooo! God decided that for shits and giggles, he would 'cure' me of my cat allergies. Not. Cool. So not only do I hate this little rear-end, but I have no reasonable excuse to why he can't be around ! And let me tell you, He Knows It!!!! He knows my GF is a total pushover and he can get away with anything as long as he hides behind her puppy-pout. Knock over a glass??? Whoo ! Be a bitey, scratchy little Satan ??? Free Pass! Wake Quinn up a few hundred times a night??? No Problemo! Wait! You mean that chair DOESN'T look better with claw marks on it??? Who Knew??? Whaaattt?? you Don't want my paws all over your kitchen table??? How rude!! ( even though cats totally step all over their own... *searching for a good word to use.... failing search...* poo and tinkle in their litter box , then waltz all over EVERYTHING) GROSS! I seriously should be a spokesperson for Lysol at this point. (Lysol, if you're interested, I think the 'sarcastic promoter' thing has a lot of potential... jussayin)
The biggest problem is that when my gf is gone, and I'm chilling, reading a book or whatever Quinn does (HAHAHA! reading...) He comes up and snuggles me! (only when his better option is gone.. little poop-butt.) And he is SO CUTE. He will lay there on my belly (a good, squishy spot to lay I suppose) and he purrs. Despite my best efforts, I am fond of this little sh*t. That goes to show that my grinch-like hatred for cats is a little uncalled for. And my hear may not be growing anytime soon, but I suppose I wont remove his tags and dump him 50 miles away just yet...
Well that's all for now. I just have to hang on to the hope that he'll get abducted by aliens or something weird like that, because if someone tried to take him, I'd probably defend him. (then chase the person down after the cat's 'thank you' is biting my arm up like a chew toy)
I still hate cats, but there's an exception to every rule..
Laters people!
-Q
Sorry for the crummy gap between posts, I am a notorious procrastinator and have a few dozen ideas for new posts that may or may not be seeing this keyboard anytime soon. Anyway, in case you care, I am in a happy relationship. I like this person very much and I hope to be with them for a long while. Unfortunately this relationship is continuously haunted by one large mistake. Before I go into too many details, let me 'splain a thing or two to ya'. I am a dog person. I. Hate. Cats. I think dogs are smart, fun, respectful and loyal, and kitty cats are little fur-packaged bundles of Satan. I have, since birth ( and possibly in previous lives..) been allergic to cats, and when I say 'allergic to cats; I mean, twenty minutes of exposure to the little fluffy killing machines will have me putting a bottle of benadryl into my system every hour for the next day or so, like my body's survival now depended on the constant river of nasty liquid that spilled down my throat. Without it, I'm a mess, a grumpy, pukey mess. Not unlike a hangover... not that I'd know!.... Bur despite all of these things, when a kitten strolled by my girlfriend and stole her heart (little b*stard) I couldn't say no.
So there's a cat in my life now. To be honest ( God, don't tell my gf this... Or my mother... Oh, they're reading this?? .... Looove you!!! ... heh heh... ) I was hoping that the cat would make an attempt at my life ( he could do this by merely EXISTING) and I would be put in the hospital with a IV drip of Claritin going directly into my blood, and poof! no more kitty cat. Obviously my life is more important that this cat having a loving home. (jeez, its a joke. back of ASPCA!) But nooooo! God decided that for shits and giggles, he would 'cure' me of my cat allergies. Not. Cool. So not only do I hate this little rear-end, but I have no reasonable excuse to why he can't be around ! And let me tell you, He Knows It!!!! He knows my GF is a total pushover and he can get away with anything as long as he hides behind her puppy-pout. Knock over a glass??? Whoo ! Be a bitey, scratchy little Satan ??? Free Pass! Wake Quinn up a few hundred times a night??? No Problemo! Wait! You mean that chair DOESN'T look better with claw marks on it??? Who Knew??? Whaaattt?? you Don't want my paws all over your kitchen table??? How rude!! ( even though cats totally step all over their own... *searching for a good word to use.... failing search...* poo and tinkle in their litter box , then waltz all over EVERYTHING) GROSS! I seriously should be a spokesperson for Lysol at this point. (Lysol, if you're interested, I think the 'sarcastic promoter' thing has a lot of potential... jussayin)
The biggest problem is that when my gf is gone, and I'm chilling, reading a book or whatever Quinn does (HAHAHA! reading...) He comes up and snuggles me! (only when his better option is gone.. little poop-butt.) And he is SO CUTE. He will lay there on my belly (a good, squishy spot to lay I suppose) and he purrs. Despite my best efforts, I am fond of this little sh*t. That goes to show that my grinch-like hatred for cats is a little uncalled for. And my hear may not be growing anytime soon, but I suppose I wont remove his tags and dump him 50 miles away just yet...
Well that's all for now. I just have to hang on to the hope that he'll get abducted by aliens or something weird like that, because if someone tried to take him, I'd probably defend him. (then chase the person down after the cat's 'thank you' is biting my arm up like a chew toy)
I still hate cats, but there's an exception to every rule..
Laters people!
-Q
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