It’s official I only trust the love of cats

We were on the couch watching tv, I think it was some kind of entertainment awards show.

I wasn’t paying too much attention, I think I was drawing. Until somebody said something that sounded like a cigarette on skin.

One of the men, I think it was one of the actors — wealthy, famous, older, with a golden permanent tan, a bit weathered — typical – was asked a question about his life challenges or something. He joked,

“Try keeping a marriage together when 22 is still on the table.”

I looked up and saw his bright white grin flash as the audience laughed. My lover snickered too. It’s so easy to turn a deaf ear to statements like these on the market value of women.

Months later, I’ve forgotten the program and the people on it. But their laughter sticks with me, and my lover’s chuckle, and that man’s totally oblivious, carefree smile.

 

 

Don’t stay quietly

This morning I went to a get-together where it turned out that the ratio of men to women was about 12:1. Not a big deal normally, except I felt a bit of a bad vibe with this particular group. My creep radar went off. Super casual and I wasn’t anything special in jeans and tee, but some of the men were staring a bit much. I moved away, positioning myself more towards the women.

We’d only just arrived. I was engaged in a conversation with a fairly large group of people I didn’t know. One of the men in the group said he went for a hike with his friend the other day, and that he was experiencing envy.

Because, he said emphatically, “My friend has….

A REALLY YOUNG WIFE.”

Oh great, here it comes, I’m thinking. Same old shit.

He said that his friend was this many years younger than him, and his friend’s wife is THIS many years younger than his friend, and she is THIS!! many years younger than him …

I wasn’t following all of it as I darted through options in my mind about what to do next, but I think the number 10 came up, and definitely the number 20 did. I registered how impressed he was with the age difference in the tone of his voice.

And then, he actually said the following words to all of us,

“…And I was thinking, man, I WISH I could wake up next to someone WHO LOOKS LIKE THAT!”

After a brief pause, an awkward chuckle from the group perforated his next couple of sentences about his struggle to overcome envy. Hm. Surely it must be painful.

And then the next noise was me, not by my words as it wouldn’t have been worth it, but by movement.  Swiftly, bruskly scooping up my bags, coffee, and sweater from the floor by my feet as fast as I could and racing the fuck out of there on the spot, right past them all.   There’s no need to continue standing for this, for the sake of politeness and silently excusing such idiotic crap.  I didn’t say a word and didn’t need to, as they all stopped to watch with question marks hanging out of their mouths. I could kinda feel some of them half open as if to speak, but I didn’t give it a chance.  

Just outside the front door, I was already in the car before anyone could react. Off to do something better with my day, hopefully in more enlightened company.

 

 

 

Can’t you just let me be???

Wow.  I am not fucking around here, folks.

Today I actually had the thought: wow well yesterday I had all these things to say on this blog but this morning I didn’t.  Even though I had the time to write, more time than yesterday. 

And then I thought, I’m just not even feeling the need to write, here.  Why?  Maybe because I feel pretty today, I feel more attractive today than I felt yesterday, so today I’m in the game.  I’m in the fucking game. 

All I did was wake up, throw on jeans and a tee and sandals, no makeup, no fussing around with the hair.  So yeah that’s my state of mind.  And I didn’t even have to buy anything. 

Am I seriously thinking that if I feel pretty today, that I suddenly have nothing to say?  That’s how easy it is to placate me with that shit? 

Damn. 

And then I was approached again.  By some dude.  Not for a date, just because for whatever reason this local dude just has to have my attention.  Just has to. 

Every time I see this guy.  I’m sitting alone in the cafe working, writing, drawing, thinking, and minding my own damn business.  He’s sitting at some other table with his friends and recognizes me through mutual acquaintances although we don’t actually know each other.  Even though I have nothing to do with their group at all, he seems to have taken a shine to me.  He spontaneously barks over advice at me about where I should get up and move to sit out of the direct sun.  I’m actually enjoying the direct sun so I tell him I’m perfectly fine thanks.  Then for next thirty to forty-five minutes he periodically shouts stuff in my direction, like his opinion about my tee shirt to his friends, he stares at me and intentionally tries to catch my gaze, he talks over people at me even though I’m clearly disengaged.  I’m not sure what the attraction is, maybe it’s because I refuse to comply with the demand to be tended to, or refuse to be gracious toward the behavior.  I simply ignore it because I didn’t come here for this.  I came here to enjoy myself, not to humor or entertain some guy.  Then as I get up to leave he leans forward, thrusts a hand up into the air, and shouts over everyone to me, “IT’S BEEN A PLEASURE.” as I run out the door as fast as I can away from his cluelessness / dumb ass.

It’s not always about being cute, it’s about power.  It’s the same old shit in the street for our whole life.  That shit like: Smile, sweetie.  Can I get a smile?  Give daddy some attention.  Smile for me.  Fuck you !!!  Fuck off, bro!!!

And now I’m fucking pissed off again. Leave me alone !!! 

 

Why can’t you just leave me alone !!!

 

Just LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE !!!!