Saturday, April 30, 2011

Oh boy oh boy!

Cake Betch, who I sometimes feel is my younger (don't ask me how much younger) alter ego, gave me an award!

She had this to say about my blog:
I'm sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck Riot Kitty's blog is about but I can't really put my finger on anything in particular. There's a bunch of stuff on there, it's just whatever the hell she feels like writing, which is totally cool in my book. Plus, she posts lolcats pictures. Instant draw for people like me with the attention span of a carrot.

And she's right - I do post whatever the hell I feel like. And today, having a bit o'writer's block, she gave me a topic (thanks!)

As for have probably noticed that the main themes here are 1) laughing, 2) wondering "WTF" about some things, as they pertain to common sense and lackthereof and 3) ranting about lingerie. If any of this has inspired you, I'll probably fall over, unless it has inspired you to laugh or rant with me, which I hope it does from time to time.

So the rules of the road are that I pass this on to 10 other inspirational bloggers. Like Cake Betch, I love all of you, so I will pick the first 10 that pop into my mind:

1. Ileana @ arroz con mango. Chica, you always inspire me to laugh and look on the bright side - as well as imagine Johnny Depp in ways I'd never think of. Plus your art is just amazing.

2. Joey @ Joey's Pad. You inspire with creativity and deep thoughts.

3. Lynn @ Good Things Happened. You inspire me to see the beautiful and pleasant in the every day, where I would usually miss them.

4. Libby @ Libby Logic. Your combination of perfect sarcasm and survival inspires me.

5. Mike D @ The Good Mike D. You inspire me to be a better person. Plus we like the same geeky comic book action stuff.

6. Aliceson @ Feet off the Table. Your artistic talent and ability to keep a cool head when chaos reigns inspire me.

7. John @ Full-on Forward. When you're not writing about reptiles, you inspire me to remember what's really important in life.

8. Claire @ The Country Mouse Tales. Visiting your blog, I'd think you've never had a bad day! Truth is, you inspire me with your ability to turn negative into positive and, of course, the badgers.

9. Grannie Annie @ Fools Rush In. We have much in common, and you inspire me with your wisdom and sense of humor, and ability to keep calm amidst life's hassles.

10. Darth Weasel @ Darth Weasel Jedi Mind Tricks You. You inspire me for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that you strive to be the best person you can be. You are quick to forgive those who wrong you, when I just want to throw mud pies.

So go at it! Thank me and post away!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Thoughts on underwear

Are the salespeople at Victoria's Secret super aggressive?

To whit - I hate shopping. I order everything I can online, except when I want to get CDs or books, because I love record stores (sadly, they seem to be dying out) and bookstores (not the big box kind.)

So when I shop for anything else that is not a gift (because I do like picking out gifts), I am on a mission. I know exactly what I want. If it's an item of clothing, I try it on just to make sure it'll fit, since quality control in most places tends to suck.

Last weekend I went shopping for bras. No less than six salespeople at Victoria's Secret asked if they could help me. It's not a huge store, either. So by person #5, I finally said, "Not to be rude, but you're the fifth person (and then the sixth person) to ask me that, and I know exactly what I am looking for."

Finally I find it and then when I go to the fitting room they ask for my name. Um, what? Do they want to invite me for dinner? Have a first name to match a description in case I steal a bra? ("Her name was Riot Kitty, and she ran off with a black 38C!")

Then after I managed to get things purchased without signing up for a Victoria's Secret credit card or giving them my phone number (maybe they want to ask me out on a date?), I complained to a friend.

Her reply: "They make bras in your size?"

But even before I wrote this, I just read the funniest lingerie-related blog ever at WIGSF. I dare you not to pee your pants laughing. Then you can shop for more underwear.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

The man in the bunny suit

Flashback to Easter, 2001. I have only lived in the Pacific Northwest for a few months, and my parents are still living in Portland. I'm at their house for brunch, look out the kitchen window, and see a very tall man in a bunny suit hopping across their neighbors' yard, throwing eggs. He looks up and waves, then hops off.

"He must be a fun guy," I say.

My dad, who rarely swears, says, "Actually, he's kind of an asshole!"

Go figure - those were the neighbors that wouldn't even say "Happy Halloween" back to my little bro and parents when they went trick-or-treating. I guess it goes to show you that just about everyone can be fun sometimes.

Or maybe that some people just like to use the holidays as an excuse to play dress up.

Do you have any Easter, Passover, or spring traditions?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


I thought *I* had a good memory.

My little bro (15 going on 40) visited and we went to see Arthur.

Him: "You just want to see it," he said, "because Russell Brand is your plastic joy."
Me: "What?"
Him: "From your blog. Russell Brand is one of the celebrities you want to fuck."


Oooooooooooooh, the days of us watching Peter Pan and reading Frog and Toad are long gone.

I tried to bluff my way out of it and say, "That was a blog about celebrity crushes!" but he pulled up the post on his phone.

After recovering my balance, I asked, "OK, then, who is your celebrity crush?"

He grinned. "I'll tell you, but it means I'm a bad person."

Me: "Why?"
Him: "Because she's a bad actress and doesn't have a brain in her head."

Those qualifications - good at their job, whether or not they have brains- didn't even come into consideration for me, so I suppose he's still all right.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

What does guacamole mean to you?

That was a real question I overheard this jackass of a guy in line at Chipotle ask the staff tonight.

My bro and I went there, and though there was only one guy in front of us, it was taking forever.

Why? Because he was micromanaging every step of the line for his burrito.

He made the staff slam his containers of guacamole on the counter to "get out the air pockets." He corrected them continuously. "Nope, still a HUGE air pocket!"

Then after the slamming, a container of guacamole broke. "Ooooh, you broke it!"

He bent over a wrapped burrito to inspect it.

I wish this was fiction. I could hardly believe what we were seeing and for a minute I just stared at the guy. Who, by the way, came on a bike with that snorkle-dicky mirror attached to his glasses.

You know me - I always root for the underdog. One of my pet peeves - and I was just discussing this in the morning with a friend who works in a cafe - is when people are abusive to workers in service industries (e.g. baristas, restaurant workers, etc.) It's like they're being pricks just because they can, to the people who work in some of the hardest jobs for the lowest pay.

So after the last air pocket comment, he says to the cashier in a super condescending voice, "I assume you know what guacamole is."

She said, "Yes."

He said, "What does guacamole mean to you?"

At that point I had had it.

I asked him, "Don't you have anything else to do with your free time?"

The guy looked absolutely bewildered. "I'm sorry if you found my behavior offensive," he said.

I wanted to say, "I didn't know you knew that many words!"

But instead, I said, "It's not offensive to me. It's offensive that you are so rude to all of these people working here, and they can't say anything back because you're the customer."

He looked really embarrassed - the kind of tail-between-the-legs look - and he slunk out.

Then three employees thanked me.

The cashier said, "He comes in once a week and he expects us to memorize his order. But then he changed it."

Hopefully he'll leave those air pockets alone for awhile.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Inquiring minds want to know...

Some things I would really like to know:

1. What, exactly, is the meaning of the phrase, "High-ho, the dairy-O"?

2. Just about everything that comes in a jar has a label that says, "produced on the same equipment with shellfish, meat and nuts" - e.g. everything you might a) be allergic to or b) be avoiding if you are a vegetarian, kosher, or vegan. My question: Don't they wash it?

3. Along these lines, what is up with peanut butter jars that say, "Warning: contains peanuts." Isn't that the point of peanut butter? Are they letting me down gently, in case I really wanted broccoli?

4. Companies that have signs that say, "Quality since 1946" (or whatever date.) Did their products suck before then?

5. If "G-rated" means sexually neutral, why do they call it a G-string?

Any thoughts? Help me out here...

PS If this did not give you your laughter quota for the day, go read my good friend Darth's post regarding recent news.

Saturday, April 09, 2011


One of my good friends is planning to take her 15-year-old son to the beach when the weather is nicer, with another one of our mutual female friends.

She asked him if he wanted to bring his girlfriend.

"No! You two will teach her bad things," he said.

"Well then, how about I bring RK instead?" she asked.

"Even worse!" he said.

I told her I was flattered. Apparently we are infamous already...

My 15-year-old brother is coming to visit next week as part of his spring break. If you have been reading my blog for awhile, you know that even though he is my adopted brother, we're more similar and closer than I am to most of my DNA relatives.

We both love coffee, comic book geek stuff, and general naughtiness. I am dreading the day when he thinks he is too cool to hang out with me.

In the meantime, we're going to go have burritos, iced mochas, and shop for action figures.

Is there someone in your life who feels like family, only better? If so, who is it?

Wednesday, April 06, 2011

Mental Day

A handful of days a year, the depression just gets me, and there is nothing I can do except ride it out and wait for it to get better. I took a mental health day yesterday, and fortunately, working in mental health, my boss and co-workers totally understood.

My dad said, "So you took a mental day?"
Me (laughing): "No, mental health day."

Dad: "Isn't that the same thing?

It's hard for me to write when I am down, but conversely (and this really irritates me) when I get the blues my mind won't stop running around in circles...and writing is a good antidote for this, normally. Go figure the catch-22.

So a few hours away from me is Kurt Cobain's hometown of Aberdeen, Washington. The 17th anniversary of his death was in the news largely because of a guitar statue that was put up in his memory this week.

I did a lot of involuntary thinking about him, and not because I am the biggest Nirvana fan (although I do like some of their music.) But I remember tiny details about where I was (Santa Barbara), who I was with (a bunch of people I'd mostly never see again), and what I was doing (hanging out at a party my boyfriend's friends had) when I found out that Cobain died.

This wasn't a seminal generational thing - but it strikes me because it's one of only a handful of moments (9/11 is another) that is permanently etched into my memory.

A guy whose last name was Hendrix (hard to forget) told us the news right after he told me about a girlfriend he had who had died. Our first thought: drugs. When we found out it was suicide, some part of me thought: He found a way out.

I also finished reading a book on illness by Mark Vonnegut, a pediatrician who lives with bipolar disorder who is also the son of the late author Kurt Vonnegut - another Kurt who suffered from major depression, except he never owned up to it publicly. "I have so many original thoughts," Mark Vonnegut wrote, "that I take medication for it."

There's no humor like black humor to get through the day.

At that point I was 17 and I was not sure if I would, or if I wanted to, get to 27, Cobain's age when he died. To say that I am glad I did is a big understatement. Depression has claimed far too many and I am blessed to have found treatment that works most of the time, and friends and family who are supportive most of the time.

Some people speculate that artists and writers suffer from mental illness disproportionately from the rest of the population; I think we are just better at writing it down.

RIP Kurt(s).

Friday, April 01, 2011

No joke

Yeah, it's April Fool's Day, but I remembered a funny story that is absolutely true, and I have had no ideas about what to post that wouldn't sound too bitchy or raunchy (so what else is new, right?)

Right after I started my current job I met one of the founding members of the local chapter of the organization. She is, I believe, in her 80s, but still advocates for her son, who has severe schizophrenia, and volunteers as much as she is able. She's also a nice person, which is an important point in this story.

Mrs. M, as I will call her, told me she was a retired high school teacher, and that when she started teaching she kept seeing the acronym "MYOB" appear in her classroom. She assumed that meant "mind your own business."

On the last day of school, one of the students said, "It actually stands for M- You Old Bitch!"

She told us that story and we all burst out laughing.

Then she looked at us and shook her head. "I don't know why people always find that so funny!"