Has Spring found you yet, Kitten?
Here in Baltimore, Hello Kitty and her friends helped me find it.
Kitten, have you ever had a love/hate relationship with a genre of music?
I don’t think I’ve ever held such conflicting emotion for music as I do at this very moment. It’s nearly 1 am on a “school night” and the Tex Mex joint next door is still swinging with the sounds of what I call Mexican polka. It sounds very similar to this…
Through our joint wall, I mostly hear the muffled tuba noises played over even fainter notes of mariachi without the vocals. I mentally envision a happy band of elephants in sombreros.
Despite the late hour, the music is not what keeps me awake (late-day caffeine is the culprit). In fact, the Tex Mex joint regularly hosts a rather rousing Sunday night tuba jam-fest, which after years of living here, I often find rather comforting. Mostly washed-out sousaphone can make for a fantastic white noise lullaby.
But if your mind is already full and racing, this music is just too much. It’s cacophony sounds more like an audio battle between the Poland and Mexico with each trying to top the other. Neither win.
It’s clear that I’ve spent too much time doing the rounds of online dating. I was beginning to believe that all straight men are either outdoor enthusiasts, fitness nuts, forever frat bros, nudists and/or straight up psychos.
But over the weekend I was reminded that there are men out there in the real world that I actually want to date, and they can all be found on the Instagram account: @hotdudesreading.
Now, I’m assuming you know nothing of this, because otherwise I would have gotten some sort of text, phone call, or heard a long-distance shriek of delight to let me know there is still beauty in the world.
I can attest that this account curator — and NYC subway creeper — has excellent taste in finding tasty men and capturing their hot, hot minds in action. And… there’s even a Ravens fan in the mix (Baltimore, represent!):
I wish all the single fellas out there took a page out of their book. Instead of posting yet another mostly (fully?) naked bathroom selfie to Tinder, they should ask a friend to capture their gorgeous, gorgeous mind in action. An active imagination is so much hotter than a six pack, don’t you think?
Kitten sent Poodle some snail mail Valentine’s Day love this year. The thoughtful care package included a card, a box of conversation hearts and a mixtape.
Here’s a look at at some of my favorites from Kitten’s “Valentine Countdown to London” playlist:
But there definitely, most certainly, wasn’t any chocolate in there.
Nope… none at all.