'Cause, god help me, I have now watched both episodes of "Date My Ex: Jo and Slade." Why, I ask myself, why? The premise is ridiculous, the participants, for the most part, are by turns vapid, vain and detestable...and yet I watch. Damn my cheesy reality television addiction! (You will be pleased to know that I HAVE resisted the efforts of both Denise Richards and the lesser Lohans. I have some standards.)
Not much going on around here. No dating news to report. I think Mr. Ordinary may have given up on me. (And vice-versa.) We talked on Saturday, he said he'd probably call me on Sunday, but he didn't, and hasn't called since. Maybe he's waiting for me to call, for a change. But I think the fact that we talked on the phone a number of times without either of us suggesting meeting face-to-face is probably pretty telling.
Who needs to date, anyway, when there are feral cats to be concerned with?! I'm attempting to tame a skinny, skinny, pregnant (or maybe slightly postpartum) tortie that's been hanging around the work neighborhood for a while. I've made great progress this week, since I broke out the canned food. She has rubbed against my legs, and has (however grudgingly) let me pet her a bit. I predict we will be great friends before too long. Little does she know that I have plans for her girly parts! And her kittens, god willing, wherever they are.
I've got a one-night theatrical performance to do this weekend. So, see...I'm getting back to my roots. Theatre and homeless animals--who needs a man? (Unless he's offering to mow my lawn, of course, I'm no fool.)
Speaking of men, though...I am currently reading "Why Men Love Bitches," which was given to me by a friend. Have any of you read this? I'm sure I'm going to have quite a bit to say about it, but I thought I'd finish it first. Maybe it has a surprise ending. Heh.