I am so irritated and pissed off for like 12 different reasons. Maybe it’s just one giant reason, and to top it off, I feel bad for the catalyst of the anger.

You know how it started? Owen Wilson. Owen fucking Wilson. When the story broke on Tuesday about his hospital stay and then it was finally revealed that he attempted suicide, I was like, “eh, whatever.” But then yesterday and today all these stories are pouring out about will Hollywood still love Owen Wilson, and oooh, who should we blame? Kate Hudson? Can we blame big bad Kate Hudson for breaking the heart of the ever-so-fragile Owen Wilson?

And so I am sitting here in my tiny, crappy world thinking, why is this such a big deal? Just like every other celebrity chatfest, why is this so fucking important? Gonzales’ resignation didn’t get this much coverage. What the fuck is wrong with the priorities of people?

And then, I read about Leona Helmsley leaving $12 million dollars to her dog, and my rage totally kicked in.

I am sitting here with basically no family. Do you know when the last time I actually spoke words to my dad was? Christmas. Since then, I have received exactly three emails from him, all of which were blowing me off. It’s your 30th birthday, my only child? Well, I’m too busy to celebrate. Here’s a shitty gift certificate! You want to get together while you are on vacation? Sorry! I am too tired from my business trip to Prague. You’d like to spend Father’s Day with me? Sorry! Just not in the mood to entertain.

Then there’s my grandmother who doesn’t actually speak to me, but rather calls my house and screams at my sister so my sister can tell me what a loser my grandma thinks I am. And if that weren’t sweet enough, she wanted to impart how much my mother hated me when she was alive and told my grandma aaaaaaaaaaaaall about it. Oh, and just for good measure, she threw in a couple comments about how fat I am.

I’m up to my eyeballs in debt. I had to steal toilet paper from work because I cannot afford to buy any. I have zero savings for if an emergency came up.

I exercise my ass off and gain ten pounds. I go to the library and get made fun of by children for my weight (which happened AGAIN last Friday).

I’m sick of feeling trapped. I am fucking tired of people feeling the need to point out my weight, but I am well aware of what a fucking tub I am. I am tired of working myself to the point of sitting at my desk and crying because I get treated so poorly and work so hard to do a good job.

So the Leonas and the Owens of the world can kiss my ass. Fuck you, Leona. If you weren’t dead, I’d kick your ass for leaving $12 million to a FUCKING DOG! And boo hoo for you Owen Wilson. Life must be soooooooo fucking hard when you’re good looking and have more money than god. I’d try to off myself to if I had to put up with the sheer misery that must be your life.
Fucking crybaby.

Seriously, is there like a 12 step program for obsessive animal adoption? Because I totally need it.

This little lady is Isis. I have always wanted a black cat. ALWAYS. I was never allowed to have one because they are “bad luck,” or some crap like that. My sister and I had the day off today. We both had doctor’s appts. and just decided to take a PTO day.

Sometimes when we don’t have anything to do, we will go to the Humane Society and pet stores and give a little attention to the animals. It totally breaks my heart that they get like zero love. So we spread the love. Possibly, this is how I end up with so many animals.

When I saw her little face, I couldn’t help myself. She is SO tiny. I bet she doesn’t even weigh an entire pound. All of her bones are sticking out and she barely even makes a meowing noise.

Plus, she is the sweetest kitten since my Phoebe was a baby. She is such a cuddler.

*Sigh*

To keep my mythology naming scheme going (Phoebe, Freya, and Tritan), I decided to call her Isis.

I’m totally smitten with my kitten. I am off to “oooh” and “aaah” over her.