Friday, December 29, 2006

ugh, i'm cursed

So, no less than 3 hours after posting that, my mom calls to tell me that one of her cats got hit by a car and she's not sure if it is going to live. Gah!

It is of course the cat she got for me when I lived by myself in Austin, a friend for AJ.

poor Lucy.

Cats and daytime television

OK I'll admit it, I've done a lot of channel surfing over my break. I have worked on very very very little school stuff and not nearly as much housework as I would have liked, but whatever.

So, I'm watching yet another episode of What Not to Wear (god, some one nominate me! I want $5,000 to spend on clothes) and they keep showing all these commercials about cats, cat food, kittens, etc. etc. And I watch them and feel NOTHING. I just don't understand how I can be so dog obsessed and honestly I like lots of animals, hell I'm a Krupa, I have to like them. But I see these people preparing plates of food for their cats (with fucking PARSLEY!!) and all I can think is what a waste of time. One commercial actually said, "I love how special he makes me feel." talking about her cat. How does a cat express that? By glaring at you from across the room.... by shitting in your favorite potted plant in the living room?

I can't jump on the cat bandwagon. I just can't. I know there are a ton of disgusting habits that my dogs have, but I can at least yell at a dog for being gross and get a reaction out of him. Try yelling at a cat and all it does is that stupid back arching stretch equivalent to a big fat middle finger. I guess that's why I don't like cats. They are like that kid in class who is soooo bad and all you want to do is make him/her cry, but you get NOTHING. Why bother?

And why is it cats are always associated with chicks? All of these commercials are of mid-thirties women adoring their cats and apparently having enough time/money to prepare their little demons a feast of salmon with a side of ornamental greenery served on a fine china plate. I saw a book in Barnes and Noble called something like What you can tell about a woman by her cat. The book's counterpart was What you can tell about a man by his dog.

Am I less of a woman because I don't like cats? Because the thought of them rummaging through their litter boxes and then walking across the kitchen counter makes me want to vomit? Because I don't appreciate being randomly attacked and mauled when I try to pet my animals? Because I need the tail wagging approval of my puppies telling me, "Good throw! Let's do it again!" when we play?

eh, whatever.

Monday, December 04, 2006


I make myself laugh more than I should admit to.