Cats and Fats

My roommate sent me the following e-card yesterday:

RUDE.

The only thing I took away from this was that she was calling me fat. This is probably because I'm a girl and jump to that conclusion often. On Thanksgiving, I got a text that said, "Happy Thanksgiving! Don't eat too much!" and was immediately offended. Why do you think I shouldn't eat too much? Are you saying I need to lose weight? Asshole.


After a few moments of rage, I realized that they were most likely using a generic salutation.  They were also giving good advice. I almost always feel like puking on Thanksgiving.  


Anyway, my roommate claims she misread the card and thought it meant that I was a chubby chaser (which I am. See: husky ginger). 

Hearts.

But that's not what it said, Meredith. 

You may be wondering why I wasn't offended about being called "neurotic" and a "cat lady," so I'll tell you:  I've embraced these qualities. And so have you. Why else would you be reading my stupid fucking blog in which I flip out about cancer and post pictures like this one:

Model.

On that note, get ready for my Christmas card. It's a GEM.