Hi

I’m baaaack.

Man, looking back at the old posts, the pics of Evan and Gina, rating things by ‘Saruabhs’, made me realize how good things were, and how much time has passed.

Not that things aren’t good now.

We’re making grown up decisions now, we look like adults (as much as adult as we can look in work pajamas), and I’m dating someone now. I realized she was the right one when she got me a postcard of this:

 

Looks just like the pic that headed my blog in the very beginning! I take this as a fortuitous sign.

Anyways, this inspired me to return back here and start writing again. So expect to see more, and if you find any funny postcards that remind you of me, feel free to send them in and reaffirm our friendship!

 

 

About a month ago, I drove down to Bellaire to meet my drug dealer  um, I mean, for whatever reason I forget now, and I stopped by the gas station. I heard this croaking noise coming from one lady. I assumed it was her phone. But then it moved to the person in front of me. And then back to the lady. And that’s when I saw this tiny black kitten.

My first reaction was, aw. Oh well.

I hoped that it belonged to the lady, or that she would pick it up. But then I heard the croaking noise again, and this time I saw it sitting under a parked car’s rear tire, looking around hopefully. A man came out of the store and got into the car, but luckily he was talking on his phone instead of driving and backing out!

I decided if I didn’t grab the kitten now it’d just get run over in the next half hour or so.  So I took a box from the back of my car and walked up to it. It was cute, all black and tinier than any kitten I’ve seen. It hid behind a trash can when it saw me, but I was able to finally grab, gently, and put it in my car. The lady it had originally been croaking at was watching us and smiled.

(When I was a kid, I had found a purse full of money and returned it.  I didn’t realize it, but a black lady at the store had been watching me and smiled when I did so. Since then, I’ve assumed my guardian angel was a black lady. This moment brought a sense of deja vu, all 28 years later).

Kitten didn’t stay in the box well so I put her on the floor of my car. There she pooped. Then she began to climb all around the car as I drove, including pawing at my head.

I met up with my drug dealer and then went to Ginnie’s house, since I knew she had a soft heart for all things homeless. Cats, people, sea anenomes, you name it. Also I wasn’t sure how my allergies would hold up with the kitten.

We got the cat bottles of milk since it was so tiny, and some canned food. At her place it jumped on the couch and started to poop as it did. I think it was so young it couldn’t control it.

We discussed names. It was agreed that I am bad at naming things. I forget the suggestions I had but they were all shot down quickly.  Gin wanted something cultural. It was all black, like an big fuzzy eyebrow I thought, and so I said Frieda. Gin didn’t like that but she said ‘what about Kahlo?’ this seemed perfect. I did not tell ginnie I thought the kitten looked like a unibrow.

The kitten did its weird croaking noise. I said, you’re more like a frog. maybe we should call you Froggy. Gin said that was pretty fitting. Then she said Frieda Kahlo…Froggy Kahlo!

And thus, Froggy Kahlo was named.

So the photos of the Seattle apartment are gone. They were on my old iphone that got stolen.
But I can describe them to you. Boobs everywhere in the living room. Paintings of oranges that looked suspiciously like boobs. A painting of a lady being controlled by a puppeteer with two tiny naked people holding on to her nipples with clown paint on. A sculpture that if you stared at it had images of boobs pop up, like a magic-eye drawing. That’s the kind of place we got on Air BnB.

I got to sleep in the living room.
EEp.

On the plane to seattle sat between a couple. The wife like the window seat, the husband the aisle seat, so I got to sit in between. Were they talkative. Wife is an ex-ICU nurse and knew Dr. Cooley and Dr. DeBakey, so lots of reminiscing. They run a cruise line tour business so I got their cards. The husband talked to be about his days in Vietnam and how he had fun there. Lots of hot girls, he said. Nice, interesting?

Finally landed in Seattle. The air bnb place we’re staying at has prominent boob art. Why do air bnb places end up being slightly weird/off? it smells like dog pee too. And we might have found a pube in one of the wine glasses. Boob art photos to prove my point to follow.

We went to public market and had oyster shooters and uni and i bought some beeswax lipbalm and honey sticks. I asked the lady if she truly loved her bees, and her eyes lit up and her braces-filled smile widened. Yes! she exclaimed. She really really loved them. Each hive has its own personality.

I wanted to ask her to describe what personality can bees have besides stingy and less-stingy. But my cohorts had moved on at this point so I could not. I wished her well, regretful to end the meeting short. Brandon went through making up the weirdest commentary he could think of for strangers to overhear. We sip apple cider slushies and Jennifer eats some ghost pepper

Jennifer then showed us something private that I can’t talk about. #extratoenail.