Several days passed before I finally received a message from a man who seemed to hold potential. He was a bit shorter than the men I usually go for, but given i’m only 5’4” I knew I couldn’t hold it against him, and a short person does not a bad mate make.
I liked what he had written in his profile, he was in the right age range (not so young as to be looking for an encounter reminiscent of “The Graduate” and not old enough to be my Father), could spell, write in complete sentences, had more than one photo (we can all take ONE good photo), didn’t have a photo of himself taken in the bathroom with his shirt off (why do men think we want to see that? (As an aside, it’s amazing how many men living in NYC are outdoorsy – an adjective that would never be applied to me.
There's really no reason to hide our love for cats, because there's nothing wrong with it. Aside from cats being so damn cute all the time, they're super-independent, won't hide their true feelings from you, and are a great replacement for a human best friend. But before you start dating a cat lady (because she has great traits other than loving cats), here's what you need to know:1. Don't be surprised if our love slowly consumes your life, too.2. From things we wear every day like hoodies or socks, to cat pen-holders on our desks, to ice cube trays, we love all things cats. Sometimes we can scrape all the cat hair off our clothing and make an entirely new cat out of it.
And the cat hair is 100 percent transferrable to your cashmere sweater, so beware.
I've never been sure it is fair-minded that the moniker "cat lady" has typically been prefixed by the word "crazy". Oh the things I have done to and for cats of Rarotonga, where my three weeks of island bliss are about to come to an end. I used my hairbrush on the cat that lives next to our rented house. She purred and stretched herself out on a mat while I stared down at my own hand, which I couldn't quite believe was holding my own hairbrush as it ran its bristles through a stranger's cat fur. Its body looked OK so I employed the one-fingered patting technique until I used a chopstick on the under-chin area. Sure, I ate it myself but my presence had been noted in the feline community and one trotted into my room the following morning, promptly situating itself between me and the keyboard. This cat, Jasper, also got the hairbrush treatment but only using the handle because I'd gone off the idea of boiling my hairbrush.