(I’ve realized I haven’t really written about anything the title of my blog suggests. Either I’m a traitor to this site, or I just can’t come up with good handles. Let’s explore this further, shall we?)
Just to make sure I’m covering all my bases here, I’m gonna go over my list of necessities for writing this post:
UGG Boots – Check ♥
Pumpkin Spice Latte – Check ♥ (Actually, it’s regular coffee from my regular coffee maker but let’s just pretend.)
Infinity Scarf – Check ♥ (It’s cold in my apartment.)
Flannel – Check ♥
Leggings – Check ♥
Pumpkin-smelling Yankee Candle – Check ♥
Fall Selfie –
Not Check ♥ (I’m in my thin leggings and it’s cold outside. Also, it doesn’t actually look like Fall yet, so yeah.)
Cats on Deck – Check ♥ (I got a cat for this very occasion. Not really though. I’ll get into that in a sec.)
Am I missing anything? I have the September issue of Vogue and some vodka but I don’t think that’s correct. In fact, I’m kinda bad at being a white girl. (Which is really bad by the way because that’s what I am. I’ll have to discuss this with my therapist – Check ♥)
Anyways, I totally got a cat. Or perhaps the cat got me. She actually came to my door a few weeks ago and wouldn’t leave. Just strolled in like she owns the place. And she does now. My whole life is cats.
Her name is Diane Kitten because she wears a tuxedo and hangs out with Woody Allen. Also, she’s insane and is an Academy Award winner.
(Do you see how I stopped myself from writing “A-CAT-emy Award”? It was difficult, but I stood my ground.)
Much like myself, she’s asleep all day and awake all night, but unlike me, she runs through the house at 3am frantically chasing a tiny stuffed mouse. Or moving boxes around so she can nest inside them.
She also takes “Sel-felines” (I’m sorry) while wrapped up in toilet paper.
Since I’ve been so busy with my writing (which may or may not be driving me insane), she hangs out with me and gives editing notes, saying things like, “Alanna, you’re a catastrophe. Stop making so many puns.”
Either way, I’m excited to finally have a partner in crime (or at least someone to talk to), especially one who’s tight with Woody Allen. White girls, black cats, gray areas… we’re doing it all.
In the spirit of Autumn and crossing boundaries, tell me how you all like to get your white-girl on and let your leggings fly! No matter color, gender, or even species, we can all agree that being “basic” can be sorta fun.