Boyfriends are for Women
who Can't Keep Their Cats Happy
I've been married once and I hated every minute of it. That was 12 years ago, and I've only been on a handful of dates since. My friends encourage me to get out and meet people. But I don't like people. It's hard enough hanging out with friends who have learned to tolerate my antisocial behavior--everything from disinterested silence and pretending they're not there, to outright abuse and derision. I don't want to have to break someone new in.
I think there are bets among my friends and acquaintences on my sexuality. "A woman who doesn't want to date, ever? She has to be gay. I heard she changed a flat tire once. All by herself."
Those who are couple-minded are appalled at my self-reliance. They're mystified by my repulsion to men, an aversion which didn't surface until I had been married for a year and a half. If I'm going to be responsible for the care and well-being of someone, it's going to be for a creature I can stand having on my furniture. It's going to be for a lifeform that adheres to some kind--any kind of hygenic standard, and won't shed as much in the shower.
I'd rather share my domecile with a cat than a man. If I'm going to take on the responsibility for another living thing, I'd prefer it be for something for whom I'd only have to dig a small hole in the backyard.
Go ahead. Make your 'crazy cat lady' jokes. I don't care. When you're done laughing, you'll say, "But why don't you just be a lesbian?" Well wouldn't that make my life so much simpler, getting to answer 'YES!' everytime someone asks me if I'm gay. I'd fit nicely into a societal cubby hole so that everyone else could avoid headaches and sleepless nights over my inability to be compartmentalized. Really, my life would be much easier if I could be either lesbian or straight. The truth is, I'm socially misanthropic, and chemically, just not crazy about my choice of genitals.
I don't care for either of them. I don't understand what the attraction is, really. Let's see, do I wan't to be up close and personal with a veiny, mottled, mutant worm, or... the Charnel House?
Next time the creator sets about to designing a new species of humanoids, I hope It takes more than just one day to 'see that it is good'.
Work up a prototype. Use drawings, consult with plastic surgeons, artists, and other aesthetes. Once you have a model, workshop it. Round up a focus group. And for God's sake, SMELL it. Do NOT set the creature down and allow it to replicate until there is adequate feedback. Give me better choices next time so that bratty little kids won't throw rocks at my house because of the pet cemetary in my backyard. And the one in the living room. And the freezer.
For the record, I only have one cat now. But I can get more.
Cindy
I think there are bets among my friends and acquaintences on my sexuality. "A woman who doesn't want to date, ever? She has to be gay. I heard she changed a flat tire once. All by herself."
Those who are couple-minded are appalled at my self-reliance. They're mystified by my repulsion to men, an aversion which didn't surface until I had been married for a year and a half. If I'm going to be responsible for the care and well-being of someone, it's going to be for a creature I can stand having on my furniture. It's going to be for a lifeform that adheres to some kind--any kind of hygenic standard, and won't shed as much in the shower.
I'd rather share my domecile with a cat than a man. If I'm going to take on the responsibility for another living thing, I'd prefer it be for something for whom I'd only have to dig a small hole in the backyard.
Go ahead. Make your 'crazy cat lady' jokes. I don't care. When you're done laughing, you'll say, "But why don't you just be a lesbian?" Well wouldn't that make my life so much simpler, getting to answer 'YES!' everytime someone asks me if I'm gay. I'd fit nicely into a societal cubby hole so that everyone else could avoid headaches and sleepless nights over my inability to be compartmentalized. Really, my life would be much easier if I could be either lesbian or straight. The truth is, I'm socially misanthropic, and chemically, just not crazy about my choice of genitals.
I don't care for either of them. I don't understand what the attraction is, really. Let's see, do I wan't to be up close and personal with a veiny, mottled, mutant worm, or... the Charnel House?
Next time the creator sets about to designing a new species of humanoids, I hope It takes more than just one day to 'see that it is good'.
Work up a prototype. Use drawings, consult with plastic surgeons, artists, and other aesthetes. Once you have a model, workshop it. Round up a focus group. And for God's sake, SMELL it. Do NOT set the creature down and allow it to replicate until there is adequate feedback. Give me better choices next time so that bratty little kids won't throw rocks at my house because of the pet cemetary in my backyard. And the one in the living room. And the freezer.
For the record, I only have one cat now. But I can get more.
Cindy
posted by Cindy St. Onge at 2:46 PM
5 Comments:
Yeah, I've done the marriage thing, too. A dead institution. I now have 5 cats, 2 in urns on the shelf. It's working out real well, thank you.
I'd marry your gender-confused ass, but I don't like people either. And you're probably one of 'em. Got thumbs?
I have nothing to add other than that I am in awe of a master.
fucking hilarious, and sadly true is what I say. I am in near complete agreement w/you about the genitals thing...neither is a very appealing choice. It would take far too much effort to be a Lesbian tho, so I'm straight for the time being.
oh my god, i almost blew pepsi out my nose all over the keyboard. funny. even if i know it's all true...
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