PlatKat.com: March 2008

Monday, March 31, 2008

MS-Art Collaboration

Being on the phone with credit card companies for what feels like hours causes me to draw marching ants and tropical fruit on the conference room dry-erase board.

Some other boring activity causes someone else to draw razor-toothed monsters eating them on the conference room dry-erase board.

All in a day's work...

posted by platkat @ 1:53 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Pike Place Pillow Fight

Back when I lived in Austin (the first time), Flash Mobs were somewhat prevalent. I hadn't seen or heard of a successful one happening for awhile (then again, it's hard to have an ear to the ground when your head is in the clouds), so I was happy when news of the pillow fight in Pike Place Market hit my inbox. I didn't participate, but I took a few pictures, which you may enjoy as part of Kat's fourth installment of a flickr account:

Pictures of the Pillow Fight

(Note: If you want to be flickr friends, befriend platkat. I may be keepin' it classy in Seattle, but I still won't go pro on flickr!)

posted by platkat @ 3:13 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Friday, March 28, 2008

Cookie Party!

Today it snowed very hard. It was a big surprise, as evidenced by all of my coworkers unnaturally conversing about the snow, all of my friends asking me about the snow, the TotalFark thread about the snow, and random people I saw throughout the day reacting moronically to the snow. Snow, snow, snow.

Snow.

In light of this natural phenomenon, it was only fitting that I save myself the grueling walk to the cafeteria in another building 100 miles away and instead walk to my friend's car 10 feet out the door and go get sushi. After we finished our lunch and I made a football out of my chopsticks wrapper which I erroneously flicked over my friend's head and onto the table of a couple seated near us, we quickly escaped to the Asian market next door. There, I purchased three items: /$!3@#s^&, Hello Panda, and Choco Digestive.

/$!3@#s^&
Oh /$!3@#s^&... what are you, /$!3@#s^&? Your package is a mystery wrapped in a riddle, and can be used as a short strand of oversized anal beads. The only indication of its contents is a strawberry at the top. But upon opening my sex toy candy, I found there was much more than met the eye: In addition to strawberry flavored gummy candy slightly resembling fun-fruits, there were little balls of chocolate mixed in. Score!

Hello Panda
Well! Hello yourself, little guy--Ah shit, it's gonna maul me to death! Take cover! Whew. Now that we're safe, Hello Pandas are chocolate-filled chocolate cookies that tasted exactly like the discontinued Koala Yummies of yesteryear, which can now be obtained under the moniker, Koala March.

Choco Digestive
This is perhaps the boldest purchase of the three. Though its package is unassuming, the name was too curious to ignore. It has always been a given that I digest my chocolate after I've eaten it, but this product seemed intent on driving the point home. Would these cookies help me digest food better? Would they give me indigestion? Would they accelerate the digestion process? What is going to happen when I eat these?? So far, nothing. I ate at least four of them, but they seem to be moving through my digestive tract with the same ease as regular cookies. The day isn't over yet, so if I end up shitting rainbows (instead of the usual rose petals), I'll post a follow-up.

posted by platkat @ 2:50 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Thursday, March 27, 2008

MS-Poker

At the suggestion of a very wise person, I joined the poker group here at work. As I mentioned before, there are no buses that go directly from Seattle to the casinos nearby and I haven't been able to find a live game in town through word of mouth. Naturally, I was overly giddy to find that they hold tournaments in the cafeterias four times a week.

I correctly assumed that the MSFT games would match the demographic of the NI home games I used to hold/attend: Almost all male, twenties and thirties, maybe a few older guys in the mix, almost all engineers, and everyone knows each other. I was on the fence about going (the natural nervousness that comes with the idea of attending a function by yourself, knowing that you won't know anyone there), but decided that I could totally do this. So I did.

Everyone was incredibly nice, but there was no escaping the inevitable. I got called out for being the young white chick at the poker table.

This happens so much that I'm pretty well used to it. It happened as early as my first trip to Vegas ("Smile, honey.") and Garden City ("Tell your boyfriend to give you some money so you can go play pai gow.") through my assimilation process at Bay 101 and my stints at various casinos in AC. Some guy always has to say something that he obviously wouldn't say to anyone else at the table.

Last night, it was an innocuous "Are you here with someone?"

Just to be clear, I'm not offended because I know that the question came so naturally to the guy that he didn't mean it as an offense. Also, I know that he was not trying to hit on me, as we'd been discussing a trip he and his wife took to Texas prior to his question. The guy was not a gregarious "player" type, just an average dude. If he were simply trying to hit on me, this blog post would cease to be.

I believe his intent was to find out whose wife I was in order to properly gauge the amount of shit-talking he could get away with. Well, that's why I would have asked the question anyway.

What he implied though, was that in order for a young lady like me to join a poker game, I must have been "brought." Poker is not a game for women, and while they are generally accepted in most games, it is rare for them to seek opportunities to play.

Such is not the case with me, and since I tend to be a little audacious, I laughingly replied, "I work here. I rode a bus here this morning, saw that there was a game tonight, and decided to play. I know I'm just a woman, but somehow I managed it."

As I'm saying this, other guys at the table quipped, "You joined the autogroup, right?" and other comments that nodded to the fact that my being there alone was perfectly fine. (Unnecessary, but it feels nice to be accepted.)

So this put him on the major defensive. He didn't mean it like that, blah blah blah... I just laughed through it all. I think he was more worried about looking like a dick in front of the other guys than upsetting me.

Anyway, I write all this because I think it's funny how a pair tits and a snatch changes a question like, "I haven't seen you here before; did you just start at Microsoft?" to "Are you here with someone?"

Addendum: The game was a $20 NL tourney with no rebuys. Around 20 people showed up. I think I played alright, but I didn't finish in the money. I started off fairly strong, but the blinds went up more rapidly than I could catch a good all-in hand and a caller. To defend myself further, I haven't played tournament style in a loooong time, as I usually play online where limit games are more lucrative for me.

posted by platkat @ 5:10 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

What I Wanted to Say Today

"No, I don't have a follow-up scheduled right now. How about you concentrate on doing everything you were supposed to do a month ago and I'll make another appointment when you get your shit together."

"Social Quicktip #35: Stop acting like an awkward dweeb every time you are confronted with another human being! And get out of my way!"

"I'd like a taco salad. Oh wait, no I wouldn't... because I already know it's going to taste fucking horrible. The salsa is going to have no flavor, the guacamole is going to be littered with extra ingredients, and you're going to put it in the stalest, driest taco shell that can possibly be obtained from anywhere on this earth."

"Your status message says you're away. Where are you?"

"The writers aren't being difficult because they just received a lot of poorly-kept documents to fix. They're being difficult because they're complete social mongoloids who need to learn how to do their jobs better. And since none of them are here right now, you're wasting an hour of my day talking about this because no one in this room can even begin to take steps toward correcting this problem."

"TAKE IT OFFLINE."

"Oh, you're thinking about leveraging the new editing tool so we can use XML for its intended purposes? Smashing idea, Johnson!"

"You simultaneously creep me out and bug the shit out of me more and more every day. Did you take a fucking class to obtain this skill?"

"Trying to get food when you're not hungry is like shopping for clothes after gaining weight. Can I hang out at the desk with you for awhile?"

"I can has gloworms please?"

"Please?"

posted by platkat @ 2:40 PM 2 million people love The Kat

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

There I Am, Miss America

The first time I get flowers all year and it's from piggy-backing off of April's date. :-p

Thanks for the flowers, Allen, and thanks for inviting me to join you guys, April. You both brightened my day!

(Now if only I could find the punk who stole my eyeballs...)

posted by platkat @ 5:40 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Monday, March 24, 2008

Methocarbamol Is a Helluva Drug!

Even when used as directed...

posted by platkat @ 5:40 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Things I Won't Be Doing Today

1. Coloring/eating/hiding/hunting for eggs.

2. Awaiting the arrival of a human-sized white rabbit who may or may not be my mother.

3. Circling a large, overcrowded building for over an hour in search of parking.

4. Occupying a large, overcrowded building for over an hour in search of self-validation.

5. Worshipping Jesus as the Christ our Lord.

6. Inviting extended family of my own and/or my significant other to eat dinner in my home so I can spend the day in mild discomfort and the evening talking trash about them once they've left.

7. Visiting extended family of my own and/or my significant other to eat dinner in their home so I can spend the day in somewhat greater discomfort and the evening wondering if they're talking trash about me after I've left.

8. My significant other. (NULL)

9. Hijacking the family of someone I just met to share/avoid the above experiences.

10. Finishing my lists with an odd number.

posted by platkat @ 2:36 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Saturday Night on Capitol Hill

I'm a hipster
You're a hipster
Hipsters are we all
And when we get together
We do the hipster call

Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah
A-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah
Bitch-and-moan-see-a-show
A-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah

posted by platkat @ 9:47 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Friday, March 21, 2008

Winehoused!

Thanks, Jennifer, for bringing out my inner-skank!

posted by platkat @ 2:11 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Dr. Love

The armpit incident from earlier this month ended up taking a nastier toll on me than previously thought, so I visited a doctor this morning. A new, handsome, amazing doctor who gave me magical pills that should make all of this go away for awhile. I'm really surprised I haven't passed out on my keyboard; I've actually had quite a productive day so far. I guess not being in pain all the time can help with that.

posted by platkat @ 12:24 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Red Rover, Red Rover, Move All Yer Shit Over

PlatKat.com, independently owned and operated since... now.

posted by platkat @ 11:50 AM 0 million people love The Kat

Monday, March 17, 2008

Dreams

Every now and then, I have a dream so vivid that I feel like it's still happening even after I've woken up and reacquainted myself with my surroundings and life's circumstances. I spent all morning feeling queasy, unable to do anything but the bare necessities of a morning routine.

Last night began with an impromptu bike trip down 520, beginning at 40th Street. I don't know how I got there. I can't name the place I was going, but I think I was going to work many miles away. Maybe at an ice cream store.

I started riding down the hill with some amount of control, but had to stop soon after because I had run out of shoulder. Someone had also cleaned up all the random furniture and trinkets that usually lined the side of the road to create a half-way decent yard sale... on the side of this giant eight-lane highway.

I set my bike down and browsed the makeshift sale. It was covered, like a shop. Other people browsed alongside me, planning to make offers to some faceless person in a nearby house.

Someone offered me a ride in his car. I'm not sure if it was because I'd found something too large to take with me, or if he was just being nice. He had a large group of people with him. We were all talking and moving toward the car, and soon I was inside it, in the middle of a phalanx of nine people in a small hatchback continuing down the highway.

"Where's my bike?" I asked suddenly, alarmed.

Everyone was quiet. They didn't bring my bike. I wanted to turn back and they wouldn't. I didn't need to return to the shop to know it was already gone; maybe stolen by an accomplice to the group who so hurriedly whisked me away, but at the very least, sold by the faceless vendor to an unsuspecting customer.

I lived in house with my mother and sisters. It resembled our house in Naperville, but brighter, closer to things. My sisters are calmer and happier than I. They're looking forward to attending the carnival taking place in full-swing right outside our window. I try to fix a toy for one of them, but can't seem to get it right. I may be making it worse.

I can see the red, yellow, and blue top of the carousel spinning around. I can see feet dangling from some spinning ride. I won't be going to the carnival, but I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm too old, maybe I have to work.

Later, I'm in a different house. I'm staying there while the owners are gone. It's full of someone else's muted brown furniture and wooden decorations. It's not a decor I would have chosen, but I think it's pretty. The house is very quiet, and a large sliding glass door leading to the backyard lets in the light.

Out from the floorboards jumps an angry, snarling monster. It's about the size of a wolf with a thicker body, but has the head of a grotesquely ugly man. Its nose is enormous and its eyes are big and yellow. It has paws instead of hooves, but its skin is multicolored and scaly. It hunches over on all fours with its back arched and starts to walk toward me. I can't tell if it intends to harm me, but it certainly isn't friendly.

Keeping my eyes on the beast, I mentally scan the room for objects to defend myself. Nothing! This place has nothing! All I have on my person is a small bic lighter. If I were even close enough to burn it, chances are it will have already made some headway in mauling me to death.

So I looked it in the eye. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds. It decided not to kill me, and the event was over.

I lay awake in my dark room in Seattle with street lights shining through my blinds. I had been asleep for less than four hours. Still rattled and unable to return to sleep, I was left to wonder why those people took me away without my bike, why I couldn't go to the carnival, and why that monster appeared, and what it wanted with me.

posted by platkat @ 8:04 AM 0 million people love The Kat

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Potty Island

Somewhere in Capitol Hill, dozens of toilets are herded into a small area to live out the rest of their days in a deserted porcelain paradise.

posted by platkat @ 11:24 AM 0 million people love The Kat

Friday, March 14, 2008

Happy Pi Day!

Things I am thinking about right now:

1. I have not eaten pie today. That is sad.

2. How long will my win with 5-2o stick with my opponents until I have to pull another garbage hand outta my ass?

3. Who do I have to blow to get a reuben sandwich around here?

4. Why do the patrons here feel like they hold some badge of honor for playing Michael Jackson songs? Yes, you were alive in the 80s. We get it.

posted by platkat @ 9:54 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Hey Baby, I'LL Sharpen Your Pencil

I just realized that this picture represents more than merely a collection of contorted, arbitrarily tangled office supplies.

Enlarged to fit both of my 20-inch work monitors, it has served as my desktop wallpaper for over a month. I won't bother taking it down; as far as coworker relationships go, I think I'm well past the point of no return.

posted by platkat @ 3:14 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Channeling the Laughing Buddha

So there I was in the zendo last night, sitting on a cushion, staring downward, miiindin' my ooown business... and I did something that I've never done before.

Reach enlightenment?

No.

Make headway in my quest for self-discovery?

No.

What did I do?

I laughed. Oh gawd, I am such a disrespectful jerk. I can't believe I laughed. Perhaps some people who know me well might find it surprising that I've been sitting all these years and haven't laughed until this point. But really, it's true: Ever since my first zazen effort, around age 20, I never laughed, neither alone nor in a zendo. I also made a point not to cough or itch my nose or do anything unless I absolutely had to. Although my mind is always running at a million miles an hour, unnecessary restless physical movement bothers me. I welcome the chance to be still, and to be around others who are still.

I used to silently applaud myself for having such a firm grasp on my mental state with respect to its relationship with my body. It may come naturally to most people, but some of us were born with a few screws loose. I had to work for it, but everything was mind over matter, and if I could maintain control, I didn't see how other people couldn't. But if someone had told me my mental strength and maturity would peak at age 23, maybe I would have been more forgiving.

So what was I laughing at? This is probably the most embarrassing part of my misdeed. I was laughing at something from a Fark thread. Something I posted, no less:

Someone else posted the original pic and caption, but I added the spider part. The angles of her appendages remind me of a tarantula at rest. Anyway, I posted that and someone responded that they were imagining her crawling backward up the escalator with her head bent back all creepy. And now it's haunting a few people's dreams, including my own. But not in a scary way, in an I-can't-keep-a-straight-face-during-meditation way.

To make matters worse, the group was small last night. There were two priests and two girls who were visiting for a UW class. I was the only "regular" person who had simply come to practice. And I messed it up!

No one cared, of course. Hell, someone took a phone call in that very same room two weeks ago. Still, extra noises are something I'd prefer to avoid when possible... kind of like spiders.

posted by platkat @ 10:17 AM 0 million people love The Kat

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The Seattle Freeze

I wasn't sure if I'd ever talk in depth about the social climate here, but this article inspired me. It has put into more objective words what I've been expressing through g00bing (and then g00bing under the radar) all along. It also explains why some of my favorite people here aren't from here at all.

Well, maybe it doesn't explain exactly why, but it offers a few theories and at the very least supports the idea that I'm not nuts for openly pursuing friends, love, interesting conversations, good times, etc. It's just not something a lot of people here do. I must admit though, the periodic "what the fuck?" looks I get for talking to people at work, parties, and so on have started to wear on me a little bit.

I thought I spent more time alone more than the average person. The activities I enjoy most like reading, writing, and running don't incite much social interaction. But that's what drinking is for! However, almost like in New York, you can hit a bar alone and sit there till closing time, but all you'll leave with is a 100-dollar bar tab and maybe some enterprising young man's business card. (Read: "Networking" not "friendship possibility.")

Still, even though I now live in virtual isolation (i.e., my tiny Fortress of Solitude) and people at work are off-limits (I don't get a senior citizen's discount at Denny's), I think I've done okay for myself in the short time that I've been here. I've met many nice folks and remained friends with some of them. I even managed to scare up the courage to throw a party, which was exciting.

I think the catch 22 in this whole mess is that by acknowledging such a problem, you foster its growth. It's similar to how certain women, blacks, and gays feel the need to remind the world that they're minorities, whether it be through special clubs, ostentatious displays of stereotypical dress or behavior, or simply inserting some aspect of their "unique" vital statistics in conversation. To give "the freeze" a name and discuss it as an intrinsic characteristic of a whole population, one that some seem to be proud of, leads to further unproductive alienation. And I realize that in posting this thought, I am illustrating my own catch 22—Thanks for noticing.

If the article is correct, more than half the people here are from out of state, so the social circumstances might say more about the type of person that would want to live here, and not the people who were already here to begin with. I think social opportunities are always available for those who want them, no matter where you are. Some places just take more effort than others. You'll obviously meet more people in an environment where the weather is pleasant and people are out and about all the time than a place where it's always raining.

But it's so easy to blame a city's weather for all the missed social opportunities that lie within it. While I'm on it, I might as well cite proof of all the rest of the article's theories on why Seattle bitches can't hang.

I think no matter what school of thought you follow, your time and actions belong to you. If you prefer to be alone, keep your thoughts and emotions bottled, and wear dull clothing, that's what you'll choose to do. But if you don't, you shouldn't feel like you have to do those things just to fit in somewhere. You may have trouble finding "your tribe," but if you're not even an active member, then what?

It seems to me like a lot of people here aren't inherently bad or mean, they're just scared. I'd bet almost everyone would be glad to have a larger social circle, provided that it meant knowing more decent, interesting, well-meaning human beings. But like the article states, so many people are worried about "just being nice" that they don't take or make communication with their peers at face value.

Yes, it's risky, and oh gawd does rejection suck. I speak on this as a full-blown expert: rejection is one of the most important things that can happen to you and it will always feel like the end of the world while it is happening. You could be asking someone to marry you or asking someone out for coffee. It doesn't matter. Hearing, "No" without any follow-up or alternative suggestion whatsoever will put the smackdown on even the most confident of folks, if only temporarily. It can make you strong or break you entirely.

The nice thing, perhaps the only nice thing, about this is that you can decide how you want to take it. I guess the course of action that has made me at least semi-successful here is that I keep asking around until I hear a "Yes." It's a long, shitty process, especially when you care about the people you're asking and the outcome of your question. Plenty of hurt feelings come with the territory, but maybe it's more ego than anything. Some people just don't want to hang out, and I'd like to believe it usually has nothing to do with me as a person.

It may sound silly and obvious and deserving of a smack in the face for a girl who appears to be just figuring this out at 27. Still, coming from a warm, vibrant place like Austin, you figure such a similar city like Seattle would offer you a similar welcome.

Nope. But this whole post is to say that despite my relentless snarking of the drones who reside in my current home city, it's still okay and I do appreciate the blog fodder. I can handle swimming in a sea with pallid weirdos, as long as I can find a few fun, no-bullshit sharks circling them every now and then.

(And thank you to Josef, for sending me the article.)

posted by platkat @ 4:11 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Monday, March 10, 2008

Congratulations, Chirag!

Chirag, King of the Internets, has made the front page of Wired.com for his SXSW scheduling application. Where were you several years ago before I got burned out on this? No, chatting with me is not an excuse! :-p

Cheers to all the folks in Austin, BTW. Especially those who live out of state now and made the pilgrimage back for the festival. I'm significantly less hardcore.

But I'm GETTIN' PAID!!!

posted by platkat @ 6:54 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Arty Farty Had a Party

Around 32 people were there...

And they seemed to be having fun. There was a cake, magnets, and some cleverly designed place-holders. The bar was nice, but not as accomodating as I'd hoped. That's okay though, because I'm sure our tab was not as large as they'd hoped.

A pretty good effort for a first-timer in a new place.

OM-NOM-NOM-NOM-NOM.

posted by platkat @ 6:44 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Saturday, March 08, 2008

Pumping Up My Stabbin' Arm

I don't know how something as simple as going to the gym got so annoying, but without fail, there's always gotta be someone in there messin' with my mojo. Lately, it's been a punk I'll call Rubber Boy.

Rubber Boy appears to be college-age and fancies himself a weight lifter. He earned his name for the manner in which he bouncily pushes and pulls and lifts at each weight machine before moving to the free weights, which he airily swings around like cheap dishes at a Waffle House. He has no control, no understanding of resistance, no attention for anything at all really. It is very frustrating to watch.

YOU'RE GOING TO GET INJURED DOING THAT!! I want to scream. But I'm sure it would do no good. Even if he were interested in lifting weights correctly and wanted my help, the burden would then be on me to show him how to do everything correctly. I do alright for myself, but I'm not a licensed personal trainer, and I'm certainly not going to waste my time giving free advice.

Watching this guy bound from machine to machine, I almost want to offer him money to get professional help.

"Here's 200 dollars. Don't let me see you in here again without someone to show you just how wrong you're doing everything."

Yeah, I don't see that happening.

While I'm on the topic, I should mention that the gym in my apartment complex is lined with windows on one side, and the doors are glass. This means anyone going out or coming in the main building can see inside. It kind of makes me feel like I'm a hamster running on a wheel and several nine-year-olds are curiously eyeing me, unaware of their bold intrusiveness.

Usually people look, which is natural to do if you see something moving as you pass by. And if they look longer than a second, I flash them the glare, and if that still doesn't work, I give them the finger. (It doesn't usually come to that.)

The other day there was a guy, seemingly young, heading out dressed for work I assume, and he stood in front of the doors looking in at me for what seemed like an eternity. I gave him the glare, and he kept looking at me like a fucking retard.

No, I'm not staring at you. I'm not checking you out. I don't want you to check me out. I am trying to exercise and you are gawking at me like a punk. Stop it.

I seriously wonder how Seattle men can be so clueless. I need to make a better effort to get up extra-extra early to work out in peace. Complete solitude, save for the petite blonde who I sometimes see in the early morning hours. I'm all for minding my own business, so I'm not going to ask her, but I would bet money she works out that early for the same reason I do/should.

posted by platkat @ 5:17 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Overheard on First Hill

It's 2am and Club Vito's is letting its drunk riffraff loose for the night.

White-sounding guy: I hate black people!!

I'm so glad I have a mezzanine center seat for the ensuing confrontation.

New To-Do List Item: Determine proper spelling of "riffraff".

posted by platkat @ 11:46 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Damn Skippy Is Part of Your Complete Breakfast

Damn Skippy cross-reference to the May 2006 archive, scroll down about half-way. I know there's a more intelligent way to point to past Damn Skippy posts, but damn skippy, I'm not going to mess with it near the end of a workday on a sunny afternoon.

posted by platkat @ 4:20 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Damn Skippy, I Keep a Koozie at My Desk

That's right, I work at a company that gives me free Mountain Dew every day, so you better believe I'm guzzling that shit like there's a world shortage. But while each can of Mountain Dew tastes better than the last, the properties of aluminum cans remain a constant. When the drink inside is cold enough for enjoyable consumption, the can is overly cold to the touch. When the can is comfortable to hold, the drink inside slowly begins to resemble piss-water. The cure for this problem? A blue cylindrical foam marketing tool that bears the insignia of band you've never heard of, an event you've never been to, an insurance company you've never used, a product that is no longer sold, or a charitable organization you have no interest in joining. It is only through these freely-distributed ingenious devices that we caffeine-addicted humans can obtain optimal enjoyment of canned carbonated products. Until someone finds a way to comfortably inject this sugary goodness directly into my veins, koozies will keep on rockin' in the free world, which is also known as the junk drawer of my desk.

Everyone should always keep a koozie at their desk!!

posted by platkat @ 3:50 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Damn Skippy, I Put Tin Foil in My Windows

That's right, I woke up Saturday morning to the sun shining through my mini-blinds with merciless brightness, spent almost 200 bucks at the salon, and then spent another 50 on makeup. I hit the Walgreens to get some acne meds that retail around 300 dollars a bottle, saw some tin foil on a shelf, and thought, "This blocks sunlight." Sure, I could do something elaborate and ostentatious like buy curtains or blow up the sun, but the tin foil was on sale for $1.49. That's way less expensive and more importantly, less time-consuming than finding a bendable curtain rod OR initiating a costly, pointless project whose benefits I couldn't enjoy in this lifetime. With its silvery sheen, there's no question as to whether tin foil matches my furniture, but what does it matter? I don't have furniture anyway! Tell all your friends, I'm gonna win this year's Ghetto Homes and Gardens award for high-fashion home-trashin'.

Everyone should always put tin foil in their windows!!

posted by platkat @ 3:23 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Career Wear

Career wear makes me think of the 80s. Boxy knee-length skirts, tapered pants, huge blazers with shoulder pads that could be used as floatation devices... Just like 80s hair, you see a picture of yourself wearing these said items, and you murmur, "What was I thinking?"

Some people still have jobs that require career wear. I hope they get dressed, look in the mirror, and say, "What am I thinking?" and respond with "...that it's time to look for a better job."

I don't trust women in career wear. That's probably why I had difficulties making friends in Manhattan. These women march around like they're going somewhere really important, possibly to do something very important. But beneath every ridiculously overpriced jacket and ugly patterned blouse and 18-hour-support-bra... is a heart. A heart that cries, "Daddy didn't love me!" and "I wanna get married before my eggs shrivel and further prove I have no worth as a human being! Wa-a-a-a-ah!"

They bustle through the city with their soy-mocha-frappa-lappa-ding-dongs and briefcases. Late to the big board meeting or rushing to the "secret spot" for an affair with the boss? Does the briefcase hold Q1's sales metrics or celebrity trash magazines? On the phone with a client in Japan or your sister, whining that last night's fuck didn't call? Ahahaha! Who cares! These women have careers requiring career wear! Everything they do and everything they are is so, so important!

At 5:00, they hit the cheesy restaurant-bar near the office for a "great" happy hour with the coworkers. Time to take off that silk-lined blazer and really let the proverbial overly teased and perfumed hair down!

"We're independent women with careers! We are confident and sexy!"

"Wait, some of us are fat from eating out too much and not exercising."

"We will laugh loudly and wear more make-up to overcome our inadequacies!"

Four cosmos later (light-weights), some male counterparts in matching suits have approached these women in career wear hoping to score some meaningless sex before work tomorrow. Since everyone has a career, there are plenty of subjects for these heavily outfitted drones to yap on about to represent their interest in eventually having sex with each other.

Pairing off and leaving the bar in moderately-priced mid-sized sedans, you know what happens next: Off comes the career wear. Crumpled matching sets of bold-colored clothing lie in a heap next to the bed where sloppy, unfulfilling missionary-style sex is performed before passing out finally ensues.

The next morning, whichever partner is more regretful of the past evening's events quietly awakens and dresses, hoping to make a clean escape. A new day is dawning, and once again, women all over the world are cleaning last night's shame out of their snatches, marinating in Calvin Klein scents, and selecting another set of career wear for the busy (or not) day ahead.

As an aside, I miss being a candy raver with time to sew my own stuff: Random Radness.

posted by platkat @ 4:19 PM 1 million people love The Kat

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Number 11

A gray BMW. Why spend all that money on a car that blends in with the pavement?

posted by platkat @ 4:31 PM 2 million people love The Kat

Ten for Tuesday

1. I hate the phrase, "in over your head." You're not really "in" anything; things just happen to be fucked up at the moment. If you were actually "in over your head," there would be no time for discussion, so most situations don't warrant such a dire metaphor. Perhaps my long-repressed disdain for that phrase is just the result of a childhood mishap in the ball pit at Showbiz Pizza.

2. Am I turning into Michael Jackson? It seems like every time I open my purse, I find one glove. I'm not going to walk around wearing one glove. And I sure as hell ain't goin near no children.

3. Yes, your third-trimester pregnancy does make you look fat.

4. I really like mayonnaise, but I'm not sure if I want to walk all the way to the cafeteria to get it. I'm not characteristically lazy, but the idea that I'm going to pat myself on the back for burning a few extra calories on a walk just to pick up some more calories is boggling my mind. I think I'll try eating this sandwich without mayonnaise and spare myself the headache.

5. There ain't no party like a West Coast party because I'm on the West Coast now and I throw a good fuckin' party.

6. What's red and hairy and covered with Polysporin? My armpit! Hahahahahahaha!

7. I saw a sign outside a pho restaurant that read "Sandwitches." I don't want a witch made out of sand, or a sandwich made by a place that can't spell the word correctly. They should just stick to making soup.

8. I told someone I was on the game show, The Weakest Link, and five seconds later, he found this.

9. I miss Texas because you see shit like this.

10. People ask me when I'm going to have kids, and I show them this.

posted by platkat @ 1:29 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Monday, March 03, 2008

Life Improvement Sunday Workshop #3

Another one? Already?

Don't be silly, I spent all day playing cards.

My life is about the same, but my limit game keeps getting better!

posted by platkat @ 12:31 PM 0 million people love The Kat

Sunday, March 02, 2008

I Broke My Arm... Pit

Just when I thought I'd found every possible way to hurt myself as the result of drunken clumsiness...

Slightly grosser close-up picture

I have a few ideas as to how this happened, and I don't think it's worth getting into. Suffice it to say my old friend Jack Daniels witnessed this event, but he's being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.

posted by platkat @ 3:48 PM 2 million people love The Kat