...actually, he really doesn't.

I named my cat "Mr. Kitty" only when I had run out of options. My friends and I went through a multitude of other thoughtfully crafted monikers, including "Osiris" (as in the Egyptian God of the afterlife, because I am classy and cultured), and later "Jose" (as in Cuervo, also because I am classy and cultured). It was only after he had broken every bottle of nail polish and spilled every bottle of pills in my apartment, and I found myself yelling, in a very classy and cultured Cartman voice, "MR. KITTY! THAT'S A BAD KITTY!" that I was forced to acknowledge the only acceptable name.

I still spend a lot of my time yelling at him as he sees fit to destroy anything and everything that I have ever loved. It's a strange relationship.

(you only need to watch the first 20 or so seconds to get the idea)

This blog wasn't supposed to start off with yet another story about my cat. I had a whole plan, see, to talk about how internet personalities today are so good at "snark" and satire and how that is what makes them seem so cool, and how I, on the other hand, am fairly decent at snark and cynicism but am devastatingly uncool, depending almost entirely on self-deprecation and awkward pity laughs. This was going to be followed by a very carefully crafted examination of what is cool or uncool, and it was all going to be very self-deprecating indeed. I guess accidentally rambling about my cat serves the same purpose (or, purrrrpose - OK kill me now); now you, the reader, may have very low expectations of the posts to come.

Here is what you can expect:

Juuuust kidding. Probably.

Here is what you can actually expect:

• Awkward stories about my life, mainly social situations that I, at 21 years old, still can't seem to navigate correctly. I'm hoping some of these will be vaguely universal, but if you aren't as inept as I am, then don't feel bad, there's still time for you!
• Making fun of stuff. I mostly make fun of myself, but having recently escaped being a teenage girl, I'm pretty good at making fun of other stuff, too. 
• Complaining about things (this, I'm told, is popular on the internet). Hopefully these will be things we have in common.
• Lots of lists! Here's an example; a list of things in my purse: some pens, a math book, only half a rice cake (they get so dry), $4.23, a can of Fancy Feast...you know what? Let's save the lists for later.

The way I see it, I'm in a weird, transitory stage of my life. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. Some mornings, I wake up and walk around my apartment, picking up random pieces of debris and going, "Ohhh maan," over and over again. Mr. Kitty follows me around, lurking surreptitiously behind furniture and pouncing unexpectedly, constantly getting underfoot without ever actually letting me pet him (he's very withholding). Like a furry ginger shadow, he reminds me that I am not alone, although his expression frequently suggests he thinks I should be. 

OK, I'm not really this obsessed with my cat, I was trying to make some sort of point. The point is: since he does follow me everywhere, I enjoy the constant feeling of being observed and judged, and whatever judgments any such observer would be forming about my life would probably not be very kind. I don't know if he thinks I'm funny; I don't know if you will, either. But my life is peppered with awkward discomforts that I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in, and if they aren't funny, then they're just plain sad. So I'm choosing to run with funny. 

This was the very first thing that came up when I googled images for "funny." So...I don't know what you should be expecting.