How to Take a Family Portrait with Your Cat

Do you want to take beautiful pictures with your cat? Do you want a photo for your holiday cards that will show you're a single adult who loves their pet? Do you just want to add some animal pictures to your Instagram feed? Well, follow these simple steps for my foolproof tips on how to pose a family picture with your cat.

STEP ONE: Try to lure your cat to your posed set with cat treats. Hope that she will stay to look cute after she eats them. You will probably not succeed.

STEP TWO: Hope that if you stand still in your set for long enough that she will come and join you. Since you know she loves attention and likes to follow you around the apartment, you assume that it will work very easily.

STEP THREE: Even though you know she hates being picked up, scoop her up in your arms and hope that she will cooperate. It will last for the length of one selfie because she hates being picked up.

STEP FOUR: Repeat one through three.

STEP FIVE: Persist.

STEP SIX: Get tired of waiting for your cat to just magically show up where you want her to. Give up.

STEP SEVEN: Attempt to take a solo photo of your outfit by setting up your tripod and using a Bluetooth remote. Make the mistake of sitting in your cat's favorite chair. She will join you in the chair because how dare you take her spot and how dare you hang out without her and how dare you honestly

STEP EIGHT: Accept defeat. You'll only ever get cute photos with her by accident or because she sat on you. You love her anyway.

Happy fourth birthday to Pepper Nora Forbes, the kitty who loves attention, hates my DIY projects, and only knows how to do candid photos.

I Impulsively Got a Tattoo on Friday the Thirteenth

10/10, would recommend. Don’t worry, Mom, I had money saved up for it.

Due to my general personality and, more specifically, my particular mental illness, I have a tendency to be very impulsive. It’s not very predictable, but it can range from bland, benign “let’s text my ex-boyfriend I haven’t talked to in two years” impulses, to more scary, self-destructive things. Luckily, I have incredible friends who listen to my whims and tell me when I’m being dumb, as well as a trusted therapist who is always a great voice of caution.

Impulsivity worked out for me about 50 percent of the time. It’s how I’ve gotten some amazing dates. I adopted my cat on impulse after a long time of wishing for my own cat. I got my last tattoo on impulse when in town and emotional at my cousin’s wedding. So, when I had the impulse to get another tattoo, I knew it was one of the less crazy things I could do.

Tattoo shops commonly have events for Friday the Thirteenth where you can get a super cheap tat from a pre-selected flash sheet. They’re usually first come, first serve. The flash tats can be pretty kitschy or niche, so I was never sure if I would want one. Sometimes they’re spooky themed, with spiders or daggers, and a lot have the number 13 incorporated into the design, which is not always my thing.

Apprentices at tattoo shops will often do Friday the 13th event tattoos, as it’s good practice and also a good way for new tattooers to start getting clients. Due to high demand, too, you don’t really get to make any changes to the design even in size or style. If you want to be impulsive and get a tattoo, Friday the 13th can be a great time to do it, because there are just preset designs to choose from and errors are very unlikely. If you’re picky, though, you might not find a design in a flash sheet that works for your sensibility. And since I’ve always been picky, I never really thought a flash tat would be for me.

Spoiler alert, it worked out fine. But I’m getting to that.

I follow a couple of tattoo shops in Dallas and I’ve kept my eye out for local tattoo artists on Instagram. I’ve followed Little Linda (@littlebabylinda on Insta) for a while, in particular because her work was featured in this video by Kimberryberry about her tattoos. Linda is Dallas-based and really talented. She owns Koneko Studio, which I also follow on social media.

Koneko has a really modern, cool vibe. It’s also a not as intimidating as other tattoo shops, and I think it’s a great place for beginners, like me, to start. Koneko is lovely and pleasant, and they also have beauty services, too, like little baby tattoos, eyebrow styling, lashes, piercings, and they can even do the little freckle tats. It’s even completely vegan.

On Friday, March 13, Koneko posted this flash sheet of possible tattoos on their Instagram.

Koneko Studio on Instagram

Cat lover as I am, I definitely thought that these were particularly simple and cute. A few incorporated the 13 symbolism for die-hard fans of the tradition, but none of them felt tacky or silly looking (Not that there is any problem with a silly tattoo, they are just not my vibe). I thought it was cute. I texted my older sister. I decided I was going to do it. I had squirrelled away a bit of cash for an instance like this (don’t worry, Mom), and these ones were only $36 each (not including tip, and you always should tip).

For background, it’s important to mention that my mental health was in a pretty weird place. I’ve been in the process lately of tweaking my medications with my psychiatrist, and I’d been having intense mood swings. For most people, I will say do not get permanent body art when you are in an elevated emotional place (earlier that week, for instance, I decided my next tattoo should be on my wrist and it should be the epigraph from T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland… which is… very poetic, but also… yikes. So at least I ignore some of the crazier impulses). But I love to ignore my own advice. And these ones were cute.

I’ve wanted a cat tattoo to honor Nemo, my childhood cat who passed away in 2016, and Pepper, my current cat who is about to have her fourth birthday. Personalized pet portraits can be expensive in terms of time and money, so this simple line drawing turned out to be the perfect medium.

A side note: I was cautioned by my aforementioned logical best friends that it might not be best to get a tattoo during a virus. But 1) tattoo shops are always very clean and regularly sanitized by law, and 2) it was very unlikely the shop would be crowded or a hotbed of viral activity, and 3) due to my mental health hiatus from life, I was not likely to be exposed to anyone who was particularly vulnerable to the virus. I did call Koneko to make sure that they were still open, and they assured me over the phone that they were following necessary protocol to the letter. They made a note to be cautious of the virus on their original post, as well. I made sure I was not putting myself at risk of viral plague, do not worry.

Anna Westby (@awestbird on Instagram) is a current Koneko Studio apprentice, and she did such a great job on my new ink. She wore beaded owl earrings and chatted with me about her pets. A nice tattoo artist can make a possibly scary experience feel much better. I definitely recommend choosing an artist around whom you can be comfortable, for both yours and their sake.

It was first come, first serve, and I did have to wait about an hour and a half as there were two people ahead of me. Koneko has a really nice sitting area for patrons to wait, with snacks and drinks and an immaculate restroom. They had a lot of cute little items to shop over while you waited, from incense to T-Shirts.

Anna was really nice, and she was really fun to chat with during the process. She made sure my stencil was positioned perfectly and had me check it in multiple mirrors to make sure I liked the placement. She made sure it was centered below the crook of my elbow, and warned me against putting it any higher, as it would hurt more.

Anyone who tells you tattoos don’t hurt is a moron, but I don’t think I’ve ever found them unbearable. It’s kind of like prolonging the pain of an ear piercing, or like getting a cat scratch on a sunburn. Some areas hurt more, depending on how much flesh you have: my rib tattoo was a lot more painful just because of the amount of bones there. This one hurt more toward the top, near the kitty’s ears, but it also was super quick.

This cat tattoo, or cat-too, if you will, came out really crisp and beautiful. I think it is simple and perfect for my style. And should I ever apply for a very strict job ever again, it’s also easily hidden with ¾ length sleeves. I am glad to have a really cute tattoo that makes me happy. Not everything has to be shrouded in 17 layers of symbolism, and sometimes it is okay to do something just because it makes you feel good.

So, do I recommend getting a tattoo at the tail end of an emotional breakdown? Maybe not for everyone. But I highly recommend getting a Friday the Thirteenth tattoo, as long as you are financially and emotionally ready for something that permanent. I will also say that Koneko Studio was the nicest and most fun time I’ve had at a tattoo place, and that Anna did an awesome job. I’m so happy with this decision.

And don’t worry Mom, I mostly thought it through. I had cash in my nightstand!!!

(I really wanted a photo of Pepper next to my cat tattoo by luring her in with cat treats, but as expected, she did not cooperate.)

Why You Need to Critique The Things You Like

You can, and should, critique the things you like. It doesn’t mean you like them any less.

The Shawshank Redemption (1994) is one of my favorite movies. It stars Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman, and it was the latter’s first time narrating a movie with that famous voice of his. It’s included in many lists of the top movies of all time, including IMdB, Entertainment Weekly, and the American Film Institute. It features incredible cinematography by Roger Deakins, beautiful music by Thomas Newman (his first score to be nominated for an Academy Award), and also Frank Darabont’s superb direction and script, based off of Stephen King’s original novella, Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.

It also does not have a single named female character with a speaking role.

Two women speak in this film, appearing separately on camera for less than a minute each, and in total speaking less than 40 words. Even Andy Dufresne’s wife, for whose alleged murder he was wrongfully imprisoned, is not named under the cast. She is simply listed as “Andy Dufresne’s Wife” in the credits, and other than some sexy moans before she’s shot, she does not make a sound.

Another one of my favorite movies is Ratatouille (2007). This animated film stars Patton Oswalt as a Parisian rat who loves to cook. It has a unique premise and great comedic timing, as well as a main character who is literally named Linguini. One of the supporting characters, Colette, is a badass rôtisseur and she makes a powerful comment about how she is the only female chef in the kitchen due to an antiquated, male dominated hierarchy.

Ratatouille, however, does not pass the Bechdel Test. This test is a very, very baseline way of assessing female representation in film. It only assesses whether there are two named female characters in a movie and whether they happen to talk to each other about something that is not a man. This test does not even measure how “feminist” a movie is, it just sees if women talk to each other (Shawshankalso fails this test, although considering that it takes place in a men’s prison throughout the 1930s and ‘50s, this is not surprising).

I grew up loving the Harry Potter series. It is part of why wanted to become a writer myself. I had a brief, intense crush on Daniel Radcliffe because of it, I was bullied in fourth grade for reading the books under my desk during class, and I even had a “Harry Potter sock” that I drew on for Lord knows what reason. I think the franchise became so popular in part because of Rowling’s masterful character construction and world building, with believable, flawed characters and a magical world of which we all wanted to be a part.

However, Harry Potter has generally failed at inclusivity. There are only a handful of character who are non-white, and while the books are a little more ambiguous, all eight films, in total, had less than seven minutes worth of dialogue spoken by people of color. Rowling does include some wonderful depictions of female characters, both good and evil, but she has often failed at any sort of LGBT+ representation. Although she stated in an interview back in 2007 that Dumbledore is gay, there is no explicit textual evidence in either the books or the movies to support this. Even though Dumbles and Grindelwald supposedly were lovers, there is not even a moment in The Fantastic Beasts movies in which you could guess that.

I have been, of late, incredibly disappointed (to say the least), in JK Rowling’s attempts to shoehorn diversity into the books via her Twitter. She can tweet about the supposed ethnic origins and sexualities of her characters, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was never openly stated in the books. She confirms that some characters in the books and movies are diverse everywhere except for the books and movies themselves. The most disappointing, lately, is Rowling’s open support of anti-trans people on Twitter (Jackson Bird wrote an incredible op ed in the New York Times in response to this, “‘Harry Potter’ Helped Me Come Out as Trans, But J.K. Rowling Disappointed Me.” Definitely give it a read). It’s odd that a woman who touted acceptance in her novels could display such bigotry in her actual life.

It’s disappointing to find that many of my favorite things fail even the most basic tests of representation. Does it mean that I stop liking these things? Not necessarily. Does it mean that these works are entirely racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, or otherwise problematic? Not always. Usually it just reveals whether the creator has some sort of prejudice in their private life. Does it mean we have to “cancel” a work of art entirely and stop liking the things we like? Usually it does not.

I think it is important to critique the art I enjoy. I have often been called a spoil sport (only sometimes this is deserved) for commenting on the implications and subtext of a movie or book. I’ll admit that it can sometimes be a “downer” to hear criticism of something you really like. Sometimes you just want to enjoy the songs in Disney’s Sleeping Beautywithout worrying that the Prince technically kissed a sleeping woman without her consent.

But let me let you in on a little secret: Critique does not equal dislike. Just because I criticize something, does not mean that I hate it.

Criticism is not usually fun. It is, however, essential to the creation and consumption of art. Art cannot survive without critique. And we cannot expect our culture to become a better and kinder if we never point out the bad and unkind things in its past.

In a way, due to the many mechanisms in place needed to produce anything, especially art, it is difficult to guarantee whether anything we consume is truly ethical. We obviously cannot stop buying everything for all eternity. But if we ever want improvement, we are going to have to be discerning about what we support. As L.N. Smith originally wrote in Sunrise Over Disney, “Every dollar you spend, or don’t spend, is a vote cast for the world you want.”

As users and consumers of food, art, media, fashion, technology and what have you, we have a responsibility to consider their impact. Nothing will ever get better otherwise.

One person commenting won’t change a whole system. But it’s a start.

It only takes one person to speak up. If critique didn’t exist, we would never have any progress. We will just keep doing the same things the same ways without ever changing them. One person can create a ripple.

So, where does that leave us in terms of critiquing the things we like? I am not saying that critique will erase centuries of problematic ideas. But it will guide us toward casting off those problematic ideas in the future.

When we acknowledge the problems in media and art, we create a dialogue. Sometimes, that dialogue can lead to a change. Maybe we notice pervasive trends and start to discuss their implications. Maybe we pay attention to diversity, or lack thereof, in production, and perhaps make some space for diverse people in the room where there wasn’t before. Maybe we open the possibility of solving these problems.

I ask more of the things I like because I like them. I want these things to be better. I don’t just want to tear children’s movies apart or make a mockery of classic literature. It is up to us to ensure and protect the legacy of the things we like.

It is often commented that it is pointless to view older works through a modern lens because those works are a product of their time. This comment is limiting. Obviously, I understand that there wouldn’t be a random female warden at a men’s prison in the 1930s and that Heathcliff’s abusive behavior in Wuthering Heights wouldn’t bat an eyelash in 1847 and that the overt racial stereotyping of minorities in movies like Disney’s Dumbo, The Aristocrats, and Peter Pan occurred in part due to the assumed racial stereotypes that their creators believed in and that Ross Geller’s homophobia and sexist assumptions are in part a product of a hypermasculine upbringing and ignorance. I know all of these things. The time and the context can explain a situation, but it doesn’t excuse the problem.

Not all types of criticism can be applied in all circumstances, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful. Maybe they reveal something about the society they lived in then, or they give us a guide in how we should (or should not) shape the society we live in now. Now we know better, and it is because of critique.

I like Harry Potter, I loved The Shawshank Redemption, and I adore Ratatouille. Enjoy what you enjoy. Watch the movie if you want to. You’re allowed to have fun. Enjoy these things now, but don’t forget to consider their impact a little later, when you get a chance.

Remember: If we want tomorrow to be any better, we have to acknowledge the issues in both the past and the present. Even the issues in the things we like.