My friend Matt, from the vantage point of his long-term relationship and semi-retired life, often decides to “fix” my life. I find this particularly amusing and endearing because he is a big bear of a man, at about 6’4”. His MO is about as far from “Dear Abby” as you can get.
And yet. I get a call, usually about once every couple of weeks, with helpful hints from Heloise—oops, I mean Matt. They usually begin, “So, I was thinking . . .” This entrée to the conversation never bodes well for me.
Last week, he was thinking that I should move downtown because “if you stay in the suburbs, you’ll never meet a man.” As I smiled and assured him I was not going to plan my future residence around the best place to meet a man, he continued: “I just don’t want you eventually becoming one of THOSE people.”
Curious, of course I asked who THOSE people were. “You know,” he said, ”the people who live alone so long that they can’t put up with someone else. And they get weird and picky and collect cats.”
Ah, yes. The weird-picky-people-who-live-alone-and-collect-cats tribe. I believe I just watched a NatGeo documentary on their nomadic habits.
I reminded him that I live with two teenaged boys and a large neurotic dog. I put up with a lot of someone elses. And their friends. And their loud music, insatiable appetites and dirty socks on the floor.
“Yeah, you’re still OK for now,” he said. “But don’t let it go too long. They’ll be gone before you know it.”
After I hung up, I searched the fridge for something that remotely resembled dinner, knowing I could just snack because the boys were gone. I smiled to myself. “Huh,” I thought. “He thinks I’m going to get weird and set in my ways.” As I opened the bottle of blue cheese dressing, I decided to dip the crudités directly into it. No one else in my house eats blue cheese dressing so I get my own personal jar. I ate at the kitchen island, standing up, thinking about making myself a gin cocktail.
When my large black lab wandered into the room, I said in my best Humphrey Bogart voice, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” She didn’t bat an eye. She is used to my voices. She did lick my leg, however. Which reminded me that I was wearing an extra-large high school football shirt and no pants, eating directly out of a jar at the kitchen counter, while imitating Humphrey Bogart to my dog and contemplating drinking alone.
Oh, Matt. You silly rabbit, you. Move along. Nothing to see here.
All is perfectly normal.
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Haha “those people” too funny. I know exactly what he means. While it doesn’t happen to all, I know some people end up that way after so long. My grandma lived by herself so long starting at a young agethat she eventually couldn’t live with another because she became set in her ways.
I believe it! The older we get, the nicer it seems to just date and live in separate houses:). I think it was Gilda Radner who said something along those lines:). Or maybe Katherine Hepburn.
I often decide that no one is coming over so I may as well walk around in something which I would not want to be caught dead in. I have been single now for ten years (11 in the summer.) I love my family and I have had boyfriends. I usually sabotage my relationships, but I am working hard to keep the newest guy in my life. Nine months and we see each other at work and have about 2-3 dates a month. Yikes! I like him and yet I love my grandchildren more. ❤ Their sleepovers are very valuable healing sessions on my psyche. Take it easy, Kristine. hugs xo
Ah yes. I used to interview the creative director of Barney’s from time to time as a fashion journalist. He called those clothes schlumpadinka outfits. I always thought of that word each time I put on my raggedy comfies:).
lol…very funny and Matt sounds like quite the character..:)
Oh, that’s putting it mildly:)!
Black Labs are THE BEST! Miy Libby Lobe has been helping me out big time!
Libby Love! Short for Liberty Love.
Oh, I love that name! Dogs are the best, right? As I type this, mine is snuggled next to me, hogging the bed:).
whats wrong with adopting cats? or puppies?
Nothing! But, here in the States at least, there is an archetype of sorts. It is the aging single woman who becomes eccentric and has a house full of cats :-).
It is stupid, name one person who can be as unconditionally loving as an animal. What is wrong with choosing animals over humans?
They certainly are better than us at unconditional love:).
Love your post. I’m a fan.
Thank you! Appreciate you visiting and commenting:).
Well, the good news is, you don’t have a cat yet! Always great to hear about your real life!! 😜
True! Although we did rescue and lost one a few years ago and my son begged me to keep it. Thank God it was a neighbor’s cat a couple blocks away and had an actual home :-).
As a single mom of 2 teenaged boys, one dog, 2 cats (because my 90 lb dog arrived after the older of the cats and thinks it’s normal) I can’t understand what is weird about any of the above – as I stand at the counter dipping my 70% chocolate (so they won’t steal it as it’s “gross”) into the peanut butter jar, telling Zeke (dog) sorry, not for you – I won’t say in what voice…
Oh, soul sister, just love you! But now really want to know which voice you were using:).
😉 I might have been all “Valley Girl”…
Like oh my god. Totally:).
Like, yeah Baby!
You are THE BEST ! ! ! Love your wonderful sense of humor! xoxo
Thank you:). And I say that with pants on.
Good story. Here’s looking at you, kid.
I see what you did there:). Hopefully you are wearing pants and not eating out of a jar:).
Well, our office attire is casual on Fri. But, not quite to that extent. Eating out of a jar (peanut butter) will have to wait til later while I’m listening to As Time Goes By. BTW, Casablanca is one of my favorites. I read somewhere that it has the most-quoted lines. Play it, Sam.
So how many cats have you collected?
Are you kidding?! Bailey rules the roost here. How many cats does one 90-lb black Lab amount to?:)
I so enjoyed that Kristine…almost wet my pants…and yes, I’m wearing some, but no shirt though….too hot (I’d like to say that was about me, but alas, it’s the weather 😀 ).
Um, who’s the weirdo then…half naked, living alone, eating straight from containers, strange habits man…or almost living alone, no pants, lacksadaisy blue cheese dip eating ladies in footy jumpers echoing hollywood heartthrob voices to her dog? 😀
Or well meaning friends and their ideas of so called sanity (mind you, they still love us…or we would be ignored) 😀
I am going to say it is my well-meaning friend that is the weirdo :-). It’s nice here in my world.
We adapt to our circumstances…if Mr Right comes along it will change in many ways. But I don’t think the footy jumper will go anywhere though….but the voice overs may have to change to duets 😀
Mmm, there’s a thought…he’s waiting for you on stage somewhere…time for a theater somewhere. Either that or your going onstage, and he comes along to ‘discover’ you 😀
Now there is a prophecy for you 😀 Have fun!