Writers Block, or in my Case: Complainers Block

I seem to only be able to write amazing read worthing blog posts when I am either

  1. Hating my life and feeling sorry for myself
  2. Having the most amazing day ever
  3. Fuming because I just got cut off by a stupid driver that doesn’t know what a fucking BLINKER is

Today is not one of those days, but I bet when you read one of my posts you will totally be able to tell what type of day I am having

I am trying to commit to something and this post is like my lazy ass way of checking off writing for this week.

Till the next driver cuts me off of the 105 freeway, hopefully I can pull some amazing post out of my butt.

 

SamieKatt

Advertisements

A Walk Down Memory Lane for a Once Inspired Writer

Every so often I rummage through old boxes of cobwebs to look for some long lost treasure of old Deco Markers or an artist colored pencil set; today I found the treasure of all treasures….. A personal notebook filled with teen angst and puberty poetry.

IMG_0512

Known as Samie Katt since 2007 haha

I read a particular excerpt I wrote on July 11, 2007 at 15 almost 16 years old and I cannot believe how much more I relate to it now being 24 years old than I did at 15.

Lately I have been having a beginning of life crisis (what I like to call it) as to what I am doing with my life and where am I headed for this bleak looking future of mine. This juvenile passage brought a smile to lips in the sense that I cannot believe that this came from a naive teen who though 21 was old. I admit I was going through some rough spots back then, but nothing compared to the crucial times of a 24 year old trying to figure out the rest of her life.

So here I present to you a Samie Katt original, never read by anyone but me.

Remember the good old days of being a kid

When it didn’t matter what you said or did

You didn’t care about your height or weight

Your heart was fragile but would never break

You never felt the pain of losing someone

All that mattered was just having fun

It didn’t matter what you looked like or what you would wear

You could act like a dork and no one would care

It didn’t matter when they told you that you would never fly

You’d just imagine what it would be like to be in the sky

You played until the day turned to night

The dark was your only fright

You laughed until your sides were sore

Life was good what more could you ask for

You didn’t have the problems you have today

Like boys, parents, and the mean things people say

You found beauty in every little thing

From rocks, to dirt, even the feather of a birds wing

What would I give to go back to the day

When we were happy and all we did was play

Now they’re just memories lost in our head

Every laugh, every step, every word that was said

Remember the good old days of being a kid

When it didn’t matter what you said or did………

Quit Your Day Job …… (I Wish)

Working for an established big company is the most rewarding job ever!

NOT!!

Some people are born to work for others and others are born to work for themselves. I did not realize this until my third job. It has been 7 years of working for big companies and on my third year of my current job it finally hit me why I am so unhappy. I hate working for others. I have a bad habit of putting my heart and soul into these jobs that just take me for granted and use me for their advantage. I have sleepless nights of worrying about the issues at work, I downloaded Outlook for work on my iPhone and monitor all the emails coming in and answer questions while I’m eating cereal on a Sunday morning. BUT I am not getting paid for it. 

I have had my hair fall out in clumps, breakouts all over my body, anxiety attacks, bathroom break cries for a job that pays me way below the pay scale of my duties. My boyfriend always tells me to stop going above and beyond on everything because my bosses have gotten used to it. I can’t help it, I was born a natural over achiever! I want to be the best ALL the time!

I was brought up on such a creative background, with a strong moral upbringing. Being told never to let anyone run you over and make you feel inferior. Now being 24 I have realize that I have forgotten all this and became someone I promised myself I would never be. 

I never wanted to be that person that was married to their job unless it was something that I have created from scratch. I believe my issue is that I want perfection all the time and if I stray away from a solid Monday through Friday job and on to the unknown I won’t have the control of not failing and I hate FAILING. 

As a teen I always pictured my life as graduating FIDM, creating my own clothing line and becoming as big and successful as Forever 21. Living in a loft with sky-high ceilings with my 2 cats, and spending my weekends photographing the life of Los Angeles. But those were just dreams. I am now an involuntary college drop out, with 2 cats, working a Monday-Friday job, that I have to meditate my mind away from thinking about on my days off.

I am so unhappy….

unhappy

As a firm believer as the Law of Attraction and manifestation, I know that I create the life I live. I need to burst that barrier of fear of failure and strive for my dreams! Or as my dad would say, “Stop whining unless you’re going to do something about it!” Let’s hope my next post is about how I have accomplished all my dreams, and am a successfull multimillionaire. HA

Until next time,

♥ Samie Katt ♥

I Like My Lipstick as Dark as My Soul

I am an “anti-social dreamer” as one of my long lost friend once told me. At 24, I hate crowded places and obnoxious people. My idea of real fun is some chili cheese fries, black leggings with a big ass shirt and some good old fashioned REALITY TV. I think I live vicariously through all these fake reality stars, not having to deal with crazy drama but being front seat at the cat fight is totally my kind of Friday night!

girl-fight

I tend to do everything alone, I don’t have any real friends. I do have my coworkers but I’m not counting them because they have families and kids and other friends and real lives AND actually have plans on the weekend. While I usually lay in bed till noon and force myself to clean the entire house so it feels like I was somewhat productive and then eat my feelings the rest of the day. I think my life has been like this since I was about 19 when I got in my first real fight (not physical) and pretty much lost connection with everyone.

So it has been 5 years of me, myself and I. 

In the beginning I was totally bitter and depressed hating my loner lifestyle and resenting my boyfriend for having a big group of friends, and always having someone to hang out with. I never wanted to hold him back from anything so I never gave him any grief for wanting some guy time to go hang out, race cars, drink beer, burp and whatever guys do.

Me on the other hand, I spent my time at the mall drowning my sorrows in a nice pair of knee high suede boots and of course sone Cinnabon. I would always make nice conversation with the girls that worked in the stores, complimenting them on outfits, asking where they got that awesome phone case and giving them my secrets to perfect winged eyeliner. But deep down I know they just wanted a sale and just wanted someone to talk to.

So it was a good 2 years of this, me wallowing in my self pity, gaining 20 pounds and having no clue how the hell to make friends in my 20’s. Honesty to this day I still ask, HOW THE HELL DO YOU MAKE FRIENDS?!

how

I went to makeup school and met some really wonderful girls that I had a great time in class with and totally hit it off. But even with exchanging numbers and letting them know that they can call me up anytime so we can hang out. I even made the effort of texting first but for some reason no luck.

I did have a best friend in high school that I occasionally hung out with even after we drifted far apart. But my texts got more frequent to hang out and her responses went from “definitely yes” to none. But when a favor was needed (pictures needed to be taken for a graduation) I was there to accept it with no pay and did it with a smile on my face. And what happened after you ask??? Never was spoken to again and I still don’t have my USB back.

My boyfriend and I had a mutual “couple” friend. The girlfriend and I clicked perfectly and we always coordinated group dates all together. We got pretty close and she said she didn’t have too much friend time since she has a child and has to take her everywhere, I told her call me anytime, I don’t mind just hanging at the house watching a movie or doing kid activities. We totally agreed and promised to hang out more. Soooo, what happened to that? Well, I’ll just say we probably went out twice alone and the other times other people were invited and I was left out as the 3 friend wheel.

I am still not quite sure where I went wrong on the friend train, did I get on the wrong one or miss my stop? I think I am hilarious (I sooo could have my own reality TV show just on that) I am a great secret keeper, I give awesome advice (wish I could take my own but eeh) I have amazing fashion sense (could be a professional personal shopper) things just don’t get boring with me. But hey, I could be wrong and maybe I am just my own biggest fan.

Whatevs I know I’m awesome

cool-cat-is-me

With all these no friend experiences,  I have developed into an antisocial character. I dread having to go visit family and converse about lame meaning less things. When they ask how you are you HAVE to say “good” or else you are doomed for a conversation about your lame life. My boyfriend says I have no soul now, I could care less about others. BUT I am still nice, respectful and a totally amazing actress you would never be able to tell I hate this conversation I am having with you. I will still talk shit about you to my cats.

Do not get me wrong, I do not hate AAALLLL human contact. I like it when I want it, other wise just remember Sushi knows everything about you and doesn’t like you either.

♥ Samiekatt ♥

Hello, it’s me….

Samantha, Sam, Sammy, Samie, Sammie, SamieKatt (as all my social media shows) or Samantha Allison-Marie, as my mother would say when I was in deep shit. Either way, it’s the same to me.

But, who am I?

What does my life bring to this world that makes it so God damn interesting for me to post it on world wide web for all to display? Well, to the huge audience of (probably) 2 people reading this and my cats… Nothing really. I am just your average 24 year old involuntary college drop out (as my WordPress site displays) living in 2017; where no matter how hard I work I cannot afford to buy a house in Los Angeles or keep up with all the social media memes. I am stuck in the limbo of trying to adult and holding on to that last string of being a child like every one else in my generation.

I am a cat lover or crazy cat lady, I wear that hashtag proudly

#crazycatlady.

I have probably have made over 50 million grammatical errors in this excerpt, despite it only being a few sentences long.

#grammerpolicecrucifyme

I go through fits of inspiration and creativity that soon are defeated by re-watches of American Horror Story on Netflix.

#netflixandchill

I have tried to resurrect this blog from the dead over 25 times in the past year.

#cantcommit

I was a genius in high school with a 4.0, high honors, AP classes, yearbook editor-in-chief, youth group founder, that balanced extra curricular activities better than my cat stands on his hind legs (and he does that pretty damn well)

#letthepastgosam

I spend my time buying inspiration books about the law of attraction but end up binge reading Gillian Flynn’s book Gone Girl.

#crimestoryjunkie

Every Monday for the past 3 years is the first day that I start a “diet” but, end up consuming a cheese burger with grilled onions and animal fries from my local In N Out on Tuesday.

#likeisaidcantcommit

I have 2 cats: Wasabi, the satanic version of me that is the equivalent of my “would be” pay back child and Sushi the innocent, spoiled, sweet soul I used to be.

#crazycatladytimes2

I work an over full time job that I am constantly trying to get hit by a car or abducted by aliens so I won’t ever have to go back to.

#ihatework

I have absolutely no friends outside of my squad of totally cool coworkers, who have families and real friends to see outside of the 50 hour work week.

#mycatsaremyfriends

I am not close to anyone in my family; but my mom and step-dad weekly send me religious bible verses that sum up to me going to hell and my dad occasionally texts me to see if I have not been kidnapped and held hostage by criminals. I am pretty sure that my neighbors chihuahua would get a better ransom if he was help hostage; work would just ask me if I was still coming in.

#loner

I have been in a 7 year relationship that I cannot believe how freaking fast the years went by and I have not suffocated him with a pillow in his sleep. I’m just kidding I love him, but I have been reading Gone Girl too much and totally think I could have gotten away with it.

#iamnotafuturemurderer

So, summing it all up I am an anti-social, loner, crazy cat lady who dropped out of college, involuntarily (but we’ll get to that in another story.) I hope that I can keep this blog going and have some sense of commitment to something other than that of my daily binge watching of bad reality TV shows on Hulu. My goal is to keep this blog filled with useless information about me, really hilarious stories of my embarrassing life, and anything else that pops into my 1,000,000,000 thought per second mind. Oh, and of course I will try to add a dash of annoying cat pictures.

Thank you to the 2 people reading this (probably my co-workers that I have forwarded this link to) and my diabolic cats that I have force read this out loud to 27 times.

xoxo

SamieKatt

 

 

 

 

The Bad Case of the Heart Shaped Balloons

Ugh, Valentine’s Day.

I have never been a fan of the red ballooned holiday, even after being in a relationship for almost 6 years.

My despise for the holiday dates back to elementary school when my mom would make embarrassing Valentine’s Day cards with my face plastered in the center of a handcrafted, glittery red heart. All the students would be prancing around class placing their little gifts in one another’s card baskets. I would cringe as I would see the little fingers wrapped around the stamped paper with the little “made with love” personalized stamp marked at the back of every card. I could hear the “Aw’s” from the teacher’s assistant as she held hers up for all to see (as if everyone did not have one already) I stared at the goofy, crooked teethed smile of the acting headshot photo my mother chose to plaster on every card, and stuffed my face with heart shaped Chocolates.

Now fast forward to high school, I was a meek book worm with a 4.0 and a camera glued to my hand. Everyone in the school knew me as “Yearbook Girl.” Not a bad title I might say as many of my friends had much worse. As the blood red holiday rolled around once more my friends and I would be tortured with the big bouquets of flowers smashing us in the face in every hallway. As “yearbook girl” it was my job to document every holiday in the school. So inevitably I had to speak to every girl with hot pink MAC lipstick rubbed against her lips about how she adores her boyfriend, the “love of her life!” She would gush about the tasty chocolates and the morning serenade he preformed for her in the quad. I tried hard not to roll my eyes as I recall her boyfriend swapping saliva with an unidentified girl in the shadows of the auditorium. But, that wasn’t my place to say anything. After the brief interview I would take a cliche photo of her smacking a big, pink, kiss, smack dab on his cheek. “Thank’s for your time! Have a wonderful Valentine’s day!” Once my quote book was full and my camera battery dead, my BFF and I would run to my house, buy HUGE burritos, fries and a banana split and stuff our faces while watching some overly exagerated chick flick, complaining about not having cute boyfriends.

Now it’s February 14th of 2016, and I’m just scrolling through Instagram and all I see is the boasting pictures of an inexpierienced couple with their plastered smiles and their extravagant roses. It could possibly be the torturous Valentine’s day cards of my elementary days or my sour outlook of love in High School, but I still cannot tolerate the fabricated love that Valentines Day brings. Like I have embedded in my fiancés brain, “do not spoil me on Valentine’s Day”. If you love me, it should not be conserved for only one day of the year, but every day! I am not talking about breakfast in bed on a Monday and flowers every Tuesday, but little reminders here and there that I’m still on your mind. Call me bitter if you may, but   I swear if one more person asks me what I did on Valentines day I might just be signing up for anger management in result of smacking them on the head.