I'm not expecting to grow flowers in the desert

I have found the most remarkable cat treat!  Squooshable goes batshit for it; I’ve found it online, and if I can’t find a retailer nearby, I’ll just order online from now on:

Kitty Kissers

They have chicken liver (Squoosh’s favourite), beef liver, shrimp, and squid (I want to try this one for Romeo).  I bought one box at the Cracker Barrel in VA when I was there and missing Squoosh and he loved them so much that I went to the CB here and bought some, but CB does not regularly carry them.  :-(   But Squooshable gets so turned on by them that when he sees the box now, he starts purring!  Romeo and Weebie *like* the chicken liver (the only one I have tried), but they like other stuff, too—it doesn’t THRILL them like it does Squooshable.  But I’m betting that since Romeo is a seafood junkie, he’ll go for the squid and/or shrimp, and Weebie is more of a shrimp or beef girl; I don’t know about Weebie and squid, but I’ll try it.  

In other news, I’m on a Men Suck kick.  Don’t get me wrong…I love them; I like the way they smell, the way they taste, the way they are when they are behaving like fricking HUMANS—all of that.  Well, most of them.  Ok, *many* of them.  Sheesh.

I’ve been the girls-only route, and the half-‘n-half route, but in the end I’ve had to admit that—same as with religion—I’m boring:  I like boys.  I like them, and not in a necessarily boring way, either.  Ummm, yeah, ‘Codia’s been known to get a little weird.  But that’s all in the past, really.  Ok, not *really*.  :-)  But whatever.  Right now, they suck.  

This has been a long time coming, really.  Just a few months ago I came off a crush-from-a-distance high when I realised the guy was yet another loser.  Okay, maybe not a *loser* per se, but…an amoeba, migrating to whichever side of the Petri Dish is warmest.  And that’s just unattractive.  See?  I’ve grown.  Sadder but wiser, and all that.

Reading over one of Samantha’s recent posts, I just became plain ol’ angry.  I’m angry ‘cos (1) she had to go through all of that; (2) as I read the list, I was like, “Holy crap!  Me too!” on over half of them; (3) Who in the hell do these guys think they are?  I mean, *really*?!?  

And look—I know that there are psychotic girls out there.  I mean, I have male relatives, and friends that I have seen put through hell by crazy women, and I have read the blogs of some of these whacked bimbettes before I decided that if I continued to read blogs indiscriminately, I was going to do some serious faith-in-humanity losing.   It would be sexist of me to say that all men suck and women are all innocent.  I know that’s not true.  

But today we’re talking about boys, guys.  

Today I had a conversation with ‘Pants.  *Her* Mr Wonderful (scoff, scoff) is probably cheating on her with a 19-year old—and ‘Pants and Mr W are both 30.  Now I’m not that far away, and I think that someone in our age-neighbourhood who would date (or screw, or even flirt with in a sexualised manner) a 19-yo is a fucking pedophile.  How disgusting.  Her heart is broken, she’s laying down the law this weekend, and she’s giving him his walking papers if he says one word wrong.  As many problems as I have had with her in the past, my heart is breaking for her.  And where did he pick up this poor deranged child?  The freaking Internet.  

Now, in fairness, when I was 17, I “picked up” an older guy on a BBS (jesus…am I *that* old already?!?), but I was lucky—he was a genuinely nice person, and we had a good time.  I was a little fucked in the head and living dangerously, and I just lucked out and picked a safe one.  We hung out a lot, made out a few times, never actually did anything worthy of note, and I still talk to him once every few years whether he needs it, or not.  ;-)  Well, he’s busy; he lives nowhere near where I am now, has his own business, writes quasi-regularly for a computer magazine, and he updates stuff on his three websites (business, personal, alter-ego personal) often enough that when I wonder what he’s up to, I just wander over to one or all of them.  I’m unobtrusive like that.  :-)  But the moral of this story is that things are different now.  I can’t necessarily say that, were I 17 *today*, I would pick up someone over twice my age in a chatroom, or whatever.  I have to wonder what is wrong with this poor girl’s mind.

And Mr Wonderful is a pig.  That is the other moral of this story.  The guy I met left me undamaged, if not a little wiser in ways that weren’t exactly sexual.  ‘Pants’ Mr Wonderful is a walking disaster area, and I would lay money on the fact that he’s going to fuck this little girl up for life.  I became irritated at ‘Pants when we were trying to be friends the first time and she told me about some of the things Mr W would pressure her into trying.  I’m all for freak, but not when one person is reluctant, and Mr W was doing NOTHING to try to ease into ANYTHING, which is the hallmark of Someone Who Doesn’t Know What They Are Doing, Doesn’t Care To Learn, And Doesn’t Give A Fuck About You.  That just kills it for me; in Ancodialand, *everyone* has to consent fully, or it doesn’t happen.  But, then again, I’m not an amoral fucktard, like some Mr Wonderfuls I could mention.  

In all truth, that was probably when I started distancing myself from ‘Pants.  I can’t deal with that shit; I’ve just been through too much.  Been there, done that, and anyone who tries to make me go again is getting their ass kicked.  I cannot relate to this “I have no self-esteem, so whatever you say is ok, ‘cos I really need a fiancé” shit.  Ohhellno.

So I’m sad for ‘Pants, but I’m happy for her, too.  At least, as I told her tonight, this is happening *before* you two got married and had the 2.5 kids.  Before, it is an irritation; *after*, it is a tragedy.  I think ‘Pants understood where I was coming from.  Finally, after all this time.

And I’m upset for Ms Grammarian, who deserves psychotic people *never*…she’s just too kind and intelligent.  It actually really upsets me that someone who is so attentive to Life, and so…just plain nice has to go through this shit, too.  And I’m just…upset.  

Who in the hell do these guys think they are?  

And yes, I probably have a chip on my shoulder.  If I explained *why* I have a chip on my shoulder, it would probably be the longest post to ever be posted to Blogger, and it would upset me far too much.  Plus, it would be a kind of gunnysacking argument that I deplore—the kind where the person arguing implies that they can do no wrong, or hold no wrong opinions, by virtue of the fact that A happened, or someone did B to them, or whatever.  It is an appeal to emotionality, and I am just not about that.  Nothing I say, or have said, is intended to be an emotionally based attack.  I’m just saying that because of all of these things, I sometimes wake up in the morning distrusting men.  And I just wanted to vent, because sometimes when I think about all of the things that I have had happen, I really actually *do* question whether I’m just going to die old and alone, ‘cos there really is no one out there who is normal.  Maybe they really *are* all married or gay by now.  

But I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than ever—EVER—have to live with someone who doesn’t literally worship the ground I walk on, and treat me with kindness, respect and reverence every day, in every way.  It’s just not worth it.  Screw the brass ring; at this stage in the game, I want the entire fucking carousel.  I don’t want to live in fear; I don’t want to live in anger, shame, hurt, hate, jealousy…  I just don’t.  And I’m not going to.  If that makes me (as my oldest aunt says) a spinster (remember, my parents had me late), then so be it.  Gimme my spinning wheel.  

And really, in spite of everything, I don’t hate men.  Some *people* I hate, but that’s not gender-based.  And I know that there are good men out there, but good men are like socks; there’s tons of it about, and I never seem to get any.  :-)  

Oh, hell; if I didn’t have *one* Black Adder reference, someone might think it wasn’t really me.  

But I’m serious; I don’t hate men.  I actually spend far too much time *liking* them, and a lesser person would have turned into some kind of misandrist Feminazi.  But not me; maybe it’s because I’m too stupid to, but whatever.  I could really spend hours describing in epic detail how much I don’t dislike them, but…  It would probably never serve any purpose.  Really, at this point in time I’m not optimistic about the whole thing as far as my own prospects, so I’m probably the wrong person to be talking about this; for some reason, I seem to attract some very weird and mean people as far as love interests go.  I don’t know why, so I just stopped dating for a while, ‘cos I really just can’t deal with any more hurt, hate, pain, anger, and etc…

Plus I have work, and my other work, and The Program (kind of sounds like a John Grisham novel, doesn’t it?), and…everything.  In many ways, my life is going really, really well right now.  I don’t want to screw it up.  I don’t have *time* to play stupid games of “how much do you love me”, or “let me really fuck you up but good especially in some way you’re not going to want to talk about to anyone and see how well you handle everyday life the next day”.  Fact is, I’m afraid.  

And that’s why men suck; because they have the power to do this to us, and so many of them do.  And for the alleged Nice Guys who might read this and think that of course I don’t *want* a Nice Guy, ‘cos they are present in abundance; I’m intentionally dumping Nice Guys and only getting involved with assholes, I say bullshit.  Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.  Many of the Nice Guys I know (that are straight) are currently married, dating, or Otherwise Involved with psychotic bitches.  Sure, a few are with Nice Girls, but it seems that a lot of Nice Guys feel like they are in some way validated as human beings when they finally “win” a psychotic bitch.  Some of the Nice Guys I’ve had a shot at I guess didn’t seem to find what they were looking for here.  Who knows why; maybe I’m too reasonable, rational, sane, healthy, dutiful, out of debt, hardworking, ambitious, self-supporting, and at least moderately not dumb for their tastes.  Especially if they are looking for psychotic bitches.  Hmmm.

So I have quit.  I’m out of it.  As of a couple years ago.  The Plan is that I am going to just be Me, and be alone, and if something great happens, cool.  If it doesn’t, well…I kind of expect that.  No big deal.