If I had originally planned to keep this blog chronological, I have since dispensed with this idea for no other reason than I came up with a good subject line for this blog post involving both the middle and the end of our trip. It is acceptable for me to do this for two reasons: one, it’s my blog, and two, this post revolves around pizza, and pizza makes the world go around. Continue reading
To those of you who are fashion-forward, as opposed to me, who has been clinically diagnosed as “Fashion Deficient,” this might be old news. But hopefully this is sufficiently new as to make it worthy of a post in which I rip this trend a new shoelace hole:
Yes, sneakers have now been made into wedges. For those who just hate how short they are while walking long distances that necessitate comfortable sneakers. I’m pretty sure that’s the tagline.
Let’s examine why this is disturbing. Continue reading
I was walking to work this morning and saw a number of rollie pollies. You know, the bugs that, when scared or threatened, roll up into a little ball. When I was a kid, I used to sit there and watch the terrified little creatures curl up as I poked at them with a stick, not really understanding the cruelty in what I was doing.
Now that I’ve heard another dose of bad national news, I am beginning to empathize with the rollie pollies.
I made the mistake of listening to the Supreme Court arguments today on Proposition 8. Some of the questions and answers made me clap, and others made me annoyed. But after all the back and forth about marriage’s purpose for procreation, one question kept popping into my head.
Does our society really need more kids?
Winter is over; we survived! Spring is such a happy time. The weather turns nicer, or a little rainy in our case here in Northern California, but not for long. The sun is warmer and the flowers are out. I know this first-hand because I was running a few days ago and a flowering tree smacked me directly in the face with its flowers.
And they smelled great!
I am having a bad day. Below are the series of failures from my first hour of being awake. Feel free to read them for schadenfreude. I won’t judge you.
It all started last night.
So you think social media is opening up the world, making it more transparent and honest? Well, what would you say if I told you that North Korea is all over social media?
It has a website. And a Facebook page. And a Twitter feed. And my favorite, a YouTube page filled with propaganda videos. Naturally, they’re also on Google+ and Pinterest and many others. All courtesy of the Korean Friends Association of the USA, who really put the PR in DPRK.
My mind is blown. Just goes to show you: social media can be used for many purposes. Not all of them necessarily good.
And that’s my post for the day. Thanks, Mashable, for the inspiration.
Civilization. Sometimes it’s great, and sometimes, it’s filled with people who do terrible things. Like leave bags of poop on the sidewalk.
Here’s the scenario. You’re out taking your dog for a walk, and voila, just like you planned, the dog poops. Great job, dog! You give the dog a treat so he/she stays put while you pick the poop off the sidewalk with the plastic bag you stuffed into the back of your skinny jeans — you know, just in case the dog did what dogs typically do on walks. You are so proud of yourself for being so thoughtful. I mean, you usually forget your grocery bag, so it’s so great that you remembered the newspaper bag for the poop.
So you’re swept up in the moment thinking about your pending recognition as Best Citizen Ever for picking up your dog’s crap that you completely forget to pick up the bag and throw it in the next available trash receptacle. You just left it there. But, you’re not really a great citizen so you don’t go back for it later.
Then I come upon it on my daily commute and think, Wow, this city smells like dog crap. I wonder why!
I must see at least four bags of poop on the sidewalk per week. What is wrong with people? Each dog owner went through the hard part, bending over with a plastic bag on her hand, carefully grabbing the steamy, smelly pile, pulling the bag over it and tying the knot, all while the impatient mutt on her arm tries to move on to a nearby fire hydrant — and then she just left it there! Seriously, what is up with that?
All I know is that there is a reason I do not want to live in cities. Because though civilization is great and all, with its big buildings and modern conveniences, sometimes people are shitty. And I see evidence of this on a daily basis. So you can keep your buildings. I’ll stick to places where dogs poop in the grass or in the woods and no one’s there to see it.
I’ve noticed recently a large number of dogs sporting the protective collar. Or, as the dog world surely refers to it, the collar of shame.
Fido: “Did you hear about Sassy?”
Spike: “Yeah, too bad about her surgery. I hear she’s doing ok, though.”
Fido: “Well, I saw her out for a walk the other day. She’s wearing the collar of shame.”
Spike: “NOT THE COLLAR OF SHAME! THE HORROR!”
Surely that is the Starbucks courtesy water bowl conversation that ensues when another dog sees one of his dog friends with that stupid plastic collar. Luckily, I imagine dogs to be compassionate, caring. They care about how each member of the tight-knit dog community — I mean it must be tight-knit, they all sniff each other’s butts — is doing.
Not like I’d be if I saw one of my friends wearing a giant plastic phonograph.
Danielle: “Oh, hey Katie… WHAT THE HELL?”
Imaginary Friend Katie: “I had surgery and I kept scratching at my neck wound, so they put this on me. Please don’t laugh, it’s really painful and irritating. And showering is a nightmare.”
I am a terrible person. Dogs are better. So though I think those collars are terrible and ridiculous, I respect that they serve a purpose. And I guess what I’m saying is, dogs understand it, too.
There are people and situations out there that are going to make you feel small and worthless.
Here’s my recipe for happiness this week.