Monday, June 30, 2025

y8 supremacists ignorance (discussion)

...I think it's because many of them are lost souls who do not remember where they originally migrated from. Therefore, they cannot identify with any other rich and beautiful cultures, so they choose to believe the lie that they are superior yet in reality are deeply envious and insecure.

Besides the ignorant and hateful y8 (a contradiction in itself), there are the American Folk artists and country western singers/musicians who have overcome and developed their own unique culture, which is a beautiful thing.

It's the other hateful minds that have not figured out that it takes a lot more courage to love and have compassion than it does to hate people who are different. Sadly, they remain in today's 2025 existence as bullying cowards.

Wednesday, March 27, 2024

There was a Time to Eat White Chocolate

I have a new aberration with time. It seems to be going by too quickly than it used to and it is irritating me because I'm running out of time to work out. I try not to let it show, but I’m terrified it is apparent in my everyday facial expressions. As if some stranger would walk passed me and think to themself, “That lady looks like she’s a total bitch.” 

Not all the time do I have bitch face, just usually like nowadays. A time I know I’m OK with time is when it’s time to clock out from work. When I was able to fantasize about going for a jog, a bike ride, or body surfing. I had a temporary job at Sees Candy. All of my coworkers seem to like working there. They acted like it was so special to get to work there. I think it was too bright in the store and am so not thrilled to wear that bow with my name tag. Before I got hired a friend told me that Sees was hiring. Since I had worked for Lowes for one year near the end of the pandemic, I thought my experience would be a good qualifier for customer service. The customers at Lowes did like me. They sure did like me more when I was in the Paint department than when I was a cashier. I was confident in selecting colors for customers who were painting the exterior of their house and wanted suggestions on what color to paint the trim. They also needed help when it came to matching the color of their dining rooms that were close to the kitchen. They usually always wanted a different color rather than just a different sheen. I don’t know why these people had put so much faith in my opinion, but they did. They were unaware I had a degree in fine art and that two of my professors from CSU Long Beach had called me a "colorist." The customers never came back to complain. I don't recall ever feeling like I had a bitchy looking face then.

After gaining 13 pounds in just over a month while working for Sees I quit. I didn’t think I was a "sweets kind of person". I have no special taste for chocolate (yet I learned I prefer dark). But oh my, the Divinity Puff, a fluffy white chocolate center with English walnuts covered in white chocolate is to die for. So is their Cashew Brittle, a buttery brittle with whole cashews covered in white chocolate. 

If you are ever close to a Sees Candy, please stop by and try these two white chocolates I mentioned. The employees are also very nice people. I am too, I’m just not a happy bow wearer.

Thursday, August 31, 2023

Andy Bell, my Pacific Parrotlet

Today something reminded me of this one time when I was younger but old enough to know better. I tried to scare my little Pacific Parrotlet with a small vibrating toy frog. I held my bird in one hand firmly but not too tight and the other and I had the vibrating frog come near him. His entire body went limp and his head turned and slightly drooped and his feet went softly down. It looked like his body was no longer breathing. I immediately felt like the worst person in the world. My poor sweet little Andy Bell faked his death to save himself from that frog. But, it was ME who caused this. I dropped that toy frog and kissed Andy. He did not die! I apologized like crazy and promised him I would NEVER EVER do anything like that EVER again.

This is an image of a male Pacific Parrotlet from Google. I don't have a picture of Andy on my laptop right now.

He was such an affectionate loving little bird. 

Every night he would sleep on a perch next to my bed. And every morning he would wake up super early and hop on my bed, get under the covers next to my neck, and snuggle until it was time for me to wake up. One morning I woke up and he was down by my feet. I guess he decided to wander under the covers a bit.

He had a voice too. He would say, "I love you", kiss sound, kiss sound "kiss", "Where's Andy?", "Absolutely" and other words.


Saturday, April 22, 2023

Garter Snake one summer


One summer day, when I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was playing basketball alone while my sister Sue and our neighborhood friend Janelle watched me. During one of my throws, my ball rebounded and bounced over to the edge of the garage of the house next door. It then slowly rolled in an eerily strange circular motion and stopped. I recall thinking, "How weird" about the way it came to a slow stop. When I picked up the ball, I found a pretty big snake underneath. In my young eyes, it looked huge and about 5 feet long, but it was probably closer to two and a half feet in length. Luckily, my uncle happened to be painting the inside of that house's driveway where the snake was lying. I ran inside to get him because I didn't want the snake to slither its way anywhere around where I was playing. Plus, I trusted he wasn't afraid to handle it.

What does he do? He grabs the snake and chases us with it. I had no time to feel betrayal, instead, I was instantly terrified. We all ran into my house. Janelle and I made it into the bathroom, but my poor sister Sue made it only half in while we tried to shut the door. It wasn't on purpose, it just happened that she didn't make it in when we wanted that door shut. I can still visualize my poor sister while my uncle held that snake in her face while we all shrilled blood-curdling screams.

He finally stopped torturing us and let the snake free off into the backyard of the house he was painting. He explained it was a harmless Garter snake. I stopped playing basketball that day but from then on, I am very aware of how a ball lands if it lands on top of something coiled like a snake. And, I will be careful about who to ask for help if my ball ever landed strangely the way my basketball did that day.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Note to a colleague


Hi Katie! 

I found a phone picture of our small Web Imaging Production Team minus one, (omg, I forget his name!) do you remember his name? Cool dude, and a fabulous artist. Our small department always arrived on time and worked a full eight hours on-site. Thanks to our awesome manager, Yuni, "diligent" became more of the meaning I've always interpreted it to be. I have great admiration for that woman. And the rest of you peeps as well. My five months of working there stick in my memory with endearment now 6 years later. If there was an attachment option, I would include the phone pic. Yet, since I am also posting this letter on my blog, I haven't asked and received an "OK" to post publicly, so I guess I shouldn't post it here.

I hope you are doing well. I enjoyed your website. I've been to New Orleans but not New York. My high school girlfriend and I had this lofty plan to 'run away' to Brooklyn from our homes in Torrance, which my sister called Borrance. I had a pen pal in Brooklyn who said we could stay with her in her apartment until we got our own place. However, Kathy's mom discovered that Kathy borrowed her credit cards (presumably without permission) along with acting out some other hijinks and unfortunately ended up in a juvenile hall. Or as she put it, I got sentenced to "Juvy" baby. 

Can you imagine me, the most introverted, sheltered, excruciatingly shy person in high school friends and a lover with the most outrageous, extroverted, bold, confrontational person? It didn't stop there. I've fortunately continued to make the most wonderfully unusual loving and compassionate wild friends with similar outrageous extrovert personalities that have entertained and enriched my life.

I have a picture of us, (my high school girlfriend) dressed up as two Rocky Horror Picture Show characters somewhere on Facebook. She was Columbia (also above, and in my favorite pictures (hard copies) box somewhere in my bedroom). I was Frank N. Furter in his doctor's gown. She was Columbia in her PJs. One weekend night at the Tiffany Theater on Sunset Blvd in Hollywood which played RHPS at midnight every weekend for a few years there was a look-alike contest. Check this out. On that upcoming weekend night, we had our costumes prepared. My mom took our picture prior to our drive up to Sunset Blvd. After the movie ended the contest began. When it came time for the Columbias to go on stage to be judged by applause Kathy chickened out. She stuck to her chair nervously giggling. When they called the Frank N. Furters', I didn't hesitate and walked on up to the stage with the other Dr. Furters. Maybe the bottle of champagne we shared in the parking lot before standing in line helped my (liquid) courage. And when called to step up I distinctly remember the sound of which was the second loudest applause for us Frank N. Furters. Had I been in the corset and fishnets I might have won.
Goodness, I meant to say hello and tell you I still remember how much I enjoyed working with you and the other team members at the San Bruno Sam’s Club during those enjoyable five months. This here is a little text I copied and pasted plus added some more detail to my blog.

Peace and Love,
Kathleen




Monday, April 4, 2022

Coming Out

In my late 30s and early 40 years old I experienced very clear and several recurring dreams. They were intense and felt real - not to be mistaken as surreal - it was as if it were actually happening again. There was an extremely deep sensation at my sides, that I could not stop on my own. Concurrent was this freakish sound like a scream coming from the outside of my dark cave, which I interpreted as a witch's mad laugh or cry. Finally, those thick-sized grabbing things (fingers, or claws) stopped pulling at my sides right when the screaming stopped and suddenly I was loosened to be exposed to such a brightness of which I was unfamiliar. The ordeal left me exhausted. While I wanted to rest I felt this intuition to keep an eye on my surroundings as I was being held by an uncanny familiar being unlike that previous buoyant of comfort. Those moments before the torturous extraction of that mad tickling sensation at my sides that pulled me away from what I now know was my mother's womb.

Monday, August 30, 2021

Lizards and Land



I love reptiles. Particularly lizards. I once caught a darling lizard up in Big Bear and brought it home. I was about 6 years old and wanted to keep as her/him as my pet. As a week passed my mom thought Lizzy (the named I gave her or him) belonged outside somewhere in the wild. Back then, there was a lot of space of nothing but dirt bushes and spare free land. Tumble weeds used to roll down our street many windy days. I loved it. Sometimes I would catch one on an August or September afternoon and turn it into an early Christmas tree the hang bright shiny found objects onto it. Then, later, let it blow on down the road. Tumbling a more sparkling than before I caught it.

Many stray dogs, and cats passed through as well. I would feed them when then stopped by. But every morning when I went to greet my new pet, they were gone. A vagrant feral animal could always get a healthy warm meal from my forts porch.

So, we let Lizzy lose in a field in Lomita near a high school. I was sad and happy at the same time. 

Today I'm mostly sad about the over development of our now called city. I think it was a town back in the early 60s. We used to have wild life like foxes, lizards, huge dragonflies, wild dogs and cats, and frogs, big frogs hopping all over the pace. My mom once saw a nice sized 6 inch or so frog swimming toward her in our swimming pool one afternoon in the late 60s. Unfortunately, we would often find frog pancakes on the street. At first I would just observe the flatten creature and go on my way yet as time went on and I grew a few months older and more compassionate I felt the responsibility to scoop the poor amphibian from the road and toss it in our garage can.

Over development is by far, and I mean, way far too over developed. For what? More money in the developers bank accounts? There is also too much over breeding. Seriously. Look at us. Too much traffic. Too many people. Nowhere to park. Frustration. Mass shootings. Homeless. Insanity. Control people! Control yourselves! I knew this as a child. That's why I NEVER envisioned having a child. In this world? So far, I think I was right. Don't even get get started on lizards!


Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Love Rocks

I often take pictures with my phone. They're usually abstract looking images of random objects in the light and shadow I see worth shooting, sometimes people, my dog, clouds, etc. I saw this that one of my neighbors put on their garden wall and thought it would be nice to share.



Friday, July 9, 2021

Wealth

I think the Earth's majority needs to start directing wealth into Earth and animals and plants and land and oceans and art and songs and everything beautiful that has nothing to do with a damn dollar.

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Letter to a Friend

I'm cool with spiders. No fear of them. I just am not fond of the slowly moving innocent creatures that look slimy. I would probably leave my house if there was a snake in there until someone else fetched it out. Back in the early '90s, I was out in Joshua Tree this one time, out at my girlfriend's mom's desert cabin, out a few yards away making a painting of the cabin and the surrounding desert. Within 20 minutes I hear rattlesnakes coming up near me. So, I gathered up all my paints and everything and headed towards the cabin. What do I see? Two snakes slithering up the corners of the cabin. Both had stripes, one red and white, and the other brown and white. The doors and windows are all well closed, so I'm pretty sure none got in. Freaked me out! That painting never got finishes.
 
OMG, and once, I was driving to the cabin at night. Suzanne was already there. OMG, she was a humdinger. I need to write some short stories about all the girlfriends I've had. My friend Becky called me a weirdo magnet. Suzanne wasn't weird, she was just super wild, mean, and BTW, a great lover. I'm pretty sure I've grown out of it after the most recent, which was the Queen Bee! I loved her so much much. Anyway... you know how the road's in the desert or anywhere unpaved are lower than the surrounding area because it wasn't a road until a bunch of cars used it a bunch of times and made an indented pathway? And, in the center is a slightly higher area where the wheels rarely touch, depending on how straight or not the driver drives down that road. Real rocky too. So, this road was lower than the surrounding desert land by a foot or so. It had just turned past dusk to dark, so I put my headlights on and wtf did I see? A Sidewinder hauling ass across the desert. That snake didn't even dip when it crossed the road in front of me. It was almost a blur it was moving so fast...looked like a ghost. F'n awesome to witness. Or, how the young kids nowadays say, sick! Where the hell did that saying come from? When they see something "sick" it probably blows their mind so much they don't comprehend and put it in the mental illness category, subconsciously. I don't know...just want to make sense out of it. I need to make a motion graphic of that snake sighting that night. Coming soon! After the four other projects, I got going on right now.
 
Now I'm going to climb the ladder to get up on the roof and clean the gutters full of leaves. 

Friday, April 2, 2021


I think I have something, like a whole slew, in common with someone I met when I was 14 years old. We didn't stay in touch. 

One day in January 2021 late afternoon my cousin Dotty text messaged me informing me she received an email from one of our childhood friends and wanted me to guess who. It took me less than a minute to guess. Since my cousin and I were 3 years apart, and she had her friends but I really didn't consider myself their friend too. And, I was pretty much into my photography, my typewriter, and not gregarious, in the least, until in high school when Kathy Howard noticed me when I was wearing my homemade t-shirt which I had painted The Rocky Horror Picture, just like the movie's title, with the dripping bloody letters. I will save that for another blog story. 

It had to be Johnny Williams. The younger brother of the young woman who lived next door to me. Back in our childhood, I had a little crush on Johnny. Johnny had a crush on my cousin Dotty. Dotty already had a boyfriend. Secretly, I had a hard girl crush on Johnny's oldest sister Pat, who lived next door. I was tortured every minute of the day for as long as she lived there, with her husband, and adorable four-year-old boy, Mark. Totally and completely another blog story. Possibly a short story.

The reason for this text is so I can post my picture, taken yesterday. That's my tripping on the old days back in 1973/4 look.
 

Saturday, February 27, 2021

S for sink

 Click: https://vimeo.com/418210280


S-only from Kat Joy on Vimeo.

Meet Lil' Ricky

 


My Beta fish, Mr. Kapoo, finally kicked the bucket. My friends at work got me a new beta. I think it was one of the cheaper ones. He's all red and his fins move like flames coming from his sides. Not the orange color like fire, but they move like fire moves that way, yet sideways. He's very active. Especially when he notices me coming toward the bowl. He doesn't even mind when I gently pet him. Then I let him kiss my finger. Actually, he may be trying to bite it. Feels like fish kisses to me. I've been called him Lil' Ricky. It may morph into another name, as my fish names seem to get called something different along the way.

Wednesday, February 24, 2021


 Sometimes you're in the shade, sometimes you're in the light.

.

. 

Thursday, January 28, 2021

Tigger

Sadly, when I was eighteen years old, one night I came home after getting stoned on weed (but, not that stoned, you know how it wears off) and accidentally ran her over.

We had two cats, Tigger, and Loco. They usually both immediately moved out of the way when I pull up. But, I guess Tigger didn't make it in time, this time. I got out of the car and our next-door neighbor, my friend Parris, came running over to me and said, "Kathleen, I think you ran over your cat!" I got out and looked under my car, she wasn't there. Quickly we discovered she had made it over underneath my mom's car already parked next to my car. My mom, hearing what was said from inside the house, came out the front door with a flashlight just in time as we saw Tigger take her few last breaths. One of the most worse feelings in the world is killing someone you love.

I had to work the next day. So did mom. My parents had just divorced a few months earlier. The next early morning my mom called up my dad and asked him to please come over to take Tigger to be cremated. We placed her on a blanket in the garage that night before. He agreed.  

P.S. I took that photo on a film camera and developed the film and print it myself in Torrance High's Photography classroom with Mr. Steinberg. That's where I spent most of my time in high school - in the darkroom.


































Tuesday, January 5, 2021

Finger shootin

2009 mini video with Photoshop effects and an error Final Cut effect that worked out for this sequence.


Tuesday, October 27, 2020

B L U E W A V E . . .


B L U E   W A V E   C O M E   O N 

W A S H   A W A Y   A L L  T H A T  I S   F A L S E

L E T   U S   A L L   L E A R N   T H E   T R U T H

Thursday, July 9, 2020

Drawing


Have you ever been in a Hotel Conference meeting room for a Corporate business that you happen to be working for and are bored out of your mind? Me too.

Pinkie Pinkie Pinkie

Then came Pinkie and how to replace carpet with laminate tiles.

We got Pinkie for half price when we bought Jaspurr at a no-kill animal shelter in Redwood City, CA. We had a nice large apartment on the El Camino Real in Burlingame, CA. Beautiful town. Jaspurr and Pinkie were perfect together. They minded each other's space, bathed each other's top of their heads like cats do. An odd thing we noticed was Kellie's underwear being covered over the cat's food bowl after we returned from going out. Sometimes it was a sock. Sometimes, whatever it was didn't make it all the way to the bowl, but halfway from the kitchen door to the cat food bowl. We suspected it was Jaspurr's actions.

Soon we moved to San Jose county in the town of Campbell, CA to be the Resident Managers of the La Mancha Luxury Apartments. The apartment complex was a nice place. One three-bedroom, many two and one-bedroom apartments all surrounding, in a U-shape, a 70 foot gated pool, bicycle gate, poolroom, and laundry room. The neighborhood, a different story. Kellie decided she needed a puppy. Along comes Piglet from NARF (Nike Animal Rescue Foundation). He was maybe 6 months old. Scared. And STANK like the towel that came with him. Piglet had a short history of abuse. Long enough to cause behavior issues. NARF does not give out information such as where their animals come from, obviously to prevent normal good people with rage to retaliate against the animal abuser. That wasn't us. Live and let live, right? Karma's gonna get them. Piglet was a cute little grayish-brown chihuahua with scared watery little eyes and a mean bite. He once almost bit my hand in two when I tried to get him from one room to another.

Then came Lucy, a puppy chihuahua mix with "Honey I shrunk the German Shepherd" breed look came to join us to help keep Piglet company while the humans were at work - even though we already had two adult cats to mind the pups.

David, Kellie's friend, called Pinkie the way Bette Davis might have said, "Oh PINKA, PINKA, PINKA." You had to have been there. It was totally Bette. Because that's who Pinkie was even before she started to shit and urinate all over the carpet of our condo-style apartment. Oh! Pinkie, pinkie, pinkie!

That area seemed to be one of the spots for gang member families who received section 8 vouchers, a federal government's program for assisting low-income families ... until their kid(s) did something so bad that they lost their housing privileges. At least that's what one cop told me. We were living in a, I'll be nice, arm-pit neighborhood. Kellie, my girlfriend, didn't mind the place. She liked the apartment space and all the areas she could set up her plants and herbs whilst I cried and shat bricks regularly the 3 years I lived in that barrio. Oh yeah, Kellie and I were selected to manage the complex upon her request from the property manager after the previous manager was fired. She wanted it because it appeared to have more space than our 1000 sq ft apartment in Burlingame. It actually did not have that much more space, but if you counted the stairs, so maybe like 24 more feet. Me, being temporarily unemployed at the moment of the opportunity had no choice but to go along with the decision.

At least I got to make some friends in the building. Pat and Dave, the friends I made were very cool, educated, evolved, kind, and creative. They now live near me in an undisclosed location. I'm not super gregarious, so I found myself fortunate to have met them. They're like my kind of peeps. Art-, animal-, and movie-loving intellectuals.

Yeah, back to pee-pee Pinkie. And pee-pee Piglet. I think she caught on from pee-pee Piglet. I know Piglet started peeing in the apartment first. I don't know which odor is worse, female cat, or male dog. Neither animal was trainable. And neither odor could be removed no matter what we tried. Not even bleach. That only turned the carpet brighter. Later - as in much later, like after 10 years after leaving that apartment, I had heard from a young dude carpet cleaner, who was cleaning my carpet, that hydrogen peroxide is great for eliminating urine odor. First, you blot-up the urine (if you catch it wet!) with paper towels with the bottom of your shoe - or better use a wet-vac. Then, pour the hydrogen peroxide all over the area the urine had been. Then with a few paper towels, blot that up a bit after it has soaked in to cover the bottom-most layer of piss. No smell left behind at all. Amazing. Had I known this then, all I needed was 1024 sq. ft. worth of hydrogen peroxide and paper towels, and wet vac. Actually, no, that would not have prevented the two infamous pee-pee Ps to continue to piss (and shit) any and everywhere. That solution is just for special accidents. Pinkie and Piglet were out to fill the rugs with pee and poo, where ever there could, as often as they could. As if it was a contest.

At the time I was working 10 hours a day in Potrero Hill, CA. (San Francisco). Besides her perhaps territorial or bipolar behavior of not using the litter box, Pinkie was a super sweet cat. She was supposed to be my cat and my responsibility, so I was to take care of her, not necessarily Piglet. She was not one of those flimsy fluffy furry cats with mostly bones. She was all muscle. "Ohhh! Rocky!" I'm glad we never got into it. Her claw tips were thin and sharp. No, we wouldn't have had a brawl. She truly loved me. I would put my face right up to hers, wait a few seconds until I got one small tender lick on my lips. This was just about daily. And, I loved Pinkie. There was no way I would give Pinkie back to an animal shelter. And Kellie wasn't going to let Pinkie or Piglet go either.

Our solution was to rip up the carpet and padding and replace it with 1' x 1' inexpensive laminate tile. Cheap imitation stone looking tile with adhesive on the other side.

If you ever need to do this yourself, here is how we did it: Buy some good pair of gloves, an Olfa knife with lots of blades, a dust mask or two to guard the dust particles of the pure stink that's going to emanate when you cut up the carpet and papping, a pair of goggles, and many large trash bags that you will need to fill little by little of about 1.5' x 2' shaped stinking carpet and padding. You will need a couple other tools; pliers, preferably needle-nose, a mini 5.5" crowbar, and a step stool. You do not want to be sitting on that floor. Maybe some good music or podcast to help you make it through the two or three days of scooting along to get the dirty deed done.

You start from one end of the floor to the other end. Simply cut sections of carpet into roughly 1.5' x 1.5' to 2' strips. The padding is much more difficult to cut, so I just ripped it up. It rips up unevenly and there will be small pieces that will stay in place by the staples the carpet installer used. Those needle-nose pliers work extremely well to remove those patches of stapled down padding. Not all staples will have padding stuck to them, so watch out for those random staples. I became obsessed looking for the dang staples. Just when I thought I got them all, I found more. The mini crowbar works well to lift up all those thin track strips at the edges of the walls that were there to stretch the carpet down. Once finished with moving everything sweep the floor. Vacuum the floor, sweep the floor, and vacuum some more. Wipe down the floor leaving no particle of anything behind. Otherwise, the laminate tile will show a bump from the tiniest of whatever flake is left behind.                                                                                                                                          
Laying down the tile is easy, except for the uneven sections near the doorways. That takes some measuring and patience, and you'll be good. I'd suggest starting in the center of the floor and match each tile perfectly even in one direction. Then come back to the first tile that you laid down matching the edges perfectly heading in the opposite direction.
And, don't forget the upstairs. It came out looking pretty good. Pinkie had no choice but to use the little box. However, Piglet continued to lift his leg on anything that didn't move. I moved back to Burlingame so I cannot continue the story of Peepee Piglet.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

Squee, the Scrub Jay


In September 2002 I had the opportunity to raise a Scrub Jay. For a month I house-sat for friends who were living in Ashland, Oregon. Prior to agreeing to house sitting, they had taken in a baby bird that had fallen from a nest. Nests, there are in pine trees, so it was a high fall. It obviously had some kind of trauma to her/his head and legs. Of course, I still agreed to house sit along with the disabled baby bird. After a month caring for Squee, as I name the baby bird, they let me keep her/him.  

So, we came to find out he did have a broken leg and cerebellum damage that wasn't that easy to diagnose until he was a teenage bird. The leg had to be amputated because it had grown sideways in the way of the good working leg. I never understood what he said, but he often tried to copy what I was saying with a cute little crow-like speaking voice. He was also affectionate. His poop was too big a slimy, otherwise, I would've let him sleep with me.  

Yes, I know I was supposed to take Squee to a wildlife rehabilitation center, where all injured wild animals are supposed to be taken. But we had already bonded. I loved the little guy. The knowledgeable bird caring people call it imprint. I call it human-bird love. By the way, if you ever find yourself in the position as I did, mealworms alone will not suffice their diet. My vet, who did not report me to the wildlife rehab. informed me worms are mostly mineral. They need more protein and cat food would do.

(To be continue).