There are +4 cats in my life this Christmas and 0 Men.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to analyze the cats to men ratio and draw conclusions here. Even just reading that sentence again is enough to make me break out into a cold sweat….baby, it’s cold outside
Oh please, oh please, oh please don’t let this be the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come…
I spent this week cat sitting for friends and splitting my time between two flats (couldn’t take 4 cats in my micro-flat!) Huckleberry was in heaven having so many cat butts to sniff and cat poops to sneak out of the litterbox. He’s actually eaten so much cat poo that he gained a pound or two. Oh, bring him a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer!
And, while the cats are all lovely, I don’t see myself being a multiple cat owner just now. Mostly because I’m not ready to take that giant leap towards official “cat lady status.” Plus, cats play cat games that involve stampeding around the flat like a herd of elephants at 2am. Mama needs her silent night beauty sleep.
But back to the topic of spinsterhood…
It’s looking like a viable option for me right now. I mean, the last three dates I’ve gone on have fallen flatter than an unwanted fruitcake:
Mystery Date 1. Criticized my dog (scoff!), criticized my lack of knowledge about Shakespeare (double scoff!), and generally did his best to make me feel like an idiot. Which really isn’t tough to do, he could have just handed me our Pathology SPOT exam if he wanted to make me feel like a giggling moron. I don’t know why he had to use music to insult my intelligence. I mean, I like music. I listen to music. But, apparently, I don’t know music. Fa la la la la la la.
Mystery Date 2. Didn’t speak English very well. Never really called. Eh, no hard feelings there, Feliz Navidad number 2!
Mystery Date 3. Had a lovely flirty fun time with someone who could only be described as “Erin bait” – 35 yo cute police officer who saves puppies and volunteers in the Coast Guard. Obviously, I was interested! Played it about as cool as I play things and was rather coy in response to his drunken affectionate overtures. Still, was hoping for a call and a follow up date from this one. Until, a few days later when I found out he’d spread some gossip around my local pub, painting the situation in a different light, one that didn’t flatter me at all. Feelings about him turned Ice Queen Cold. And the worst part about it? He’d never actually contacted me, so he didn’t know that I hated him with the fire of 1,000 suns and was not speaking to him!
That is, until our paths crossed last week.
I made it pretty clear I wasn’t interested in talking to 3 by not talking to him (I’m a keep things simple kinda girl). I also shot him a death-ray glare that actually seemed to frighten him. He’s just lucky I’d had a week to simmer and cool down or I might have talked to him and I can’t imagine that being very pretty.
Still, hostility isn’t a cloak I don often or for long. It’s uncomfortable.
I saw 3 on my street again this afternoon. I walked past without saying a word. Then, overcome by Christmas Spirit and feeling goodwill toward men, I turned around, walked back to him and wished him a Happy Christmas. He took the opportunity to (sorta) apologize (can’t remember if the words “I’m sorry” actually came out of his mouth?) and give me a thinly veiled cover story in which he was actually the victim of slander. He’s charming alright, but somehow, call me crazy, I don’t believe a word he says. Still, it’s Christmastime! I let him talk, gave him an All-American smile and said, “Yeah, whatever, I really just didn’t want to be a dick on Christmas. So take care and Happy Christmas.” Then, I a-wassailed away among the leaves so green, joyful and triumphant.
Right back to the cats. Who never act like 19 year old frat boys.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
And let’s face it, cats or no cats, there’s really only one reason why I’m single: I just haven’t met anyone as interesting as I am. And you shouldn’t date down, not when it comes to a person’s level of intrigue. I’m sure any day now I’ll bump into a tall, dark handsome world-traveling, PhD-holding, kitten-saving, mountain man-lumberjack-environmentalist who can write poetry, drive tractors and wash dishes. 2015 is coming, adventure looms on the horizon and love lies lurking behind almost every corner….