Your Favorite Writer Loved Cats...

"You should have a cat."

"Why?"

While Annie answered my question I did a mental inventory of her cats. Eve, the mean calico, was under the bed. The meaner white one, Henry, was out on the couch observing a temporary truce. Mystery was in bed with us, pawing at my fingertips as I played with Annie's hair.

Annie once told me she believed in love without consequence. I never told her I think that's foolish. I chose Eve.

To the woman at the gas station across the street from the bus stop

I hope someone showed appreciation for the time and energy you spent to make yourself look wonderful today
Your skirt might have been too short for the chilly fall weather, and even from across six lanes of traffic, your abundance of clevage was apparent, but the knee high boots and kangol brim with its jaunty tilt made it clear that you are putting your best foot forward.
So, thanks. For the view and all. Especially when you dropped your keys. That was swell. When you swept yourself back into your car, that was almost as nice, with your bare thighs flashing in the evening glow.

I found this on Craigslist and it's a great example of the kind of relationships I like to write about. The young lady starts out well, but then things just disintegrate for her...
"Mr perfects - w4m (not so perfect)
Every time I try to walk away its you who tries to stop me You are perfect and beyond goody goody
Of course, I would surely chooose the winning sperm donor of all donors
I hate that I ever met you and allowed you to mistreat me and be such a dick to me
You never did understand why befriending other girls came against everything I believed a relationship should be. I am neither jealous or envious! AT ALL! I just really hate no one seems to know what love is I admit, I myself am quick to turn on love and at times don't respect love enough because no one seems to know how to stay faithful and true. I hate people could feel they could do whatever and stil be happy
Some people just don't deserve what others are deserving of
I hate brain damaged fuckers who stop you when your trying to make a valid fucking point or constantly interrupts you for swearing or in saying something they know is true or hard for their ego to take in Fuckn ratbasterds, gold members of bad conduct goody goody wipes!! I hate how I have wasted my time on looooooosers who are to scared to take it a step further and not worthy of what I have to offer!!! I am stuck dealing with responsibility owed and hate those who do the minimum for the maximum and get away with it everyday!!!!! I hate this whole situation, a lot of the different situations. hate it when men don't listen and would rather argue their lies, tell their lies, make excuses or what they think they know best. I hate when men run away to leave me dealing with their bad behavior then come back once the situations back under control and cleared with more lies as others watch with pleasure of what I'm going through. I constantly feel like I have to keep up with people I don't even know anymore. I hate the color envy. I hate being jerked around I know
I will never regret what I've ever done even the things I should"

things have changed.

it's been six years since stevie died. about a year after he died, cassie killed herself.

emily got married. laura just dropped off the face of the earth. rumor has it that the school teacher got married too. i figured it was time for me to make a commitment to a life long companion. i went got myself a cat. i call her edie.

these are the small changes that eventually occur as time passes. fundamental change, real change, rarely happens. when it does, it's almost always imperceptible.

and yet, my life is the same. i work temp jobs, spend my money and time in coffeeshops and bars, and occasionally get mixed up in other people's lives. i miss stevie. that's new. he was the one person i could talk with and know i would not be judged. so now i talk to the cat. well, i suppose that's a change. probably not for the better.

i live a bit more comfortably. and i write. words, there are always words. there never seems to be enough of them.