Please bookmark the correct page at http://suzannadanna.net/ Princess of Irony

I did find true love on the Internet. Once.

Issue Date: Monday, Dec. 27, 2004

I had just gotten back from Vegas. My feet were aching and I had a bruise under the toenails of both big toes from my feet swelling in the Vegas heat. Being on your feet for 14 hour days and then going dancing at Ra several nights in a row was not the smartest move I had ever made, but it sure was fun.

I was lucky enough to catch an early flight that night and I got back to my apartment and climbed the three flights to my little haven with the chilly air conditioning and my comfy couch.

It was so quiet. The only noise was the steady hum of the air conditioner, the drop of the ice in the icemaker and the baby box fan on my bureau in my bedroom.

Too quiet.

It was too late to call anyone to go out, I was beat anyway. I still needed to do laundry and get myself put together for work in the morning.

I slipped Al Green’s Greatest Hits into the cd player and pushed play, then I started the laundry and sat down at my computer.

I checked my email, nothing new, just a couple of pieces of spam, a few notes from Kim, one from Amy, one from Kate and… hmmm, what’s this? A note asking me to come into the IRC channel I used to frequent. Apparently there was some pretty juicy gossip afoot.

I logged into IRC, did the password thing, hopped into channel and immediately got bombarded by a bunch of newbies with private messages asking “Age? Sex? Location?” I ignored them or told them to collectively fuck off and found my girlfriend Amy, she was an operator in the channel and she was the one who asked me to come in when I got home.

Amy: Hey chica.
Me: What’s up?
Amy: You’re never going to believe this…
Me: Try me..
Amy: First… how was your trip?
Me: Stop stalling… it was fine… give up the gossip sweets…
Amy: Well, M was in here earlier and he was asking about you.
Me: Marcus? No shit? I thought he’d given up. Last thing I knew, his ex-wife moved back to town and brought his kids with her.
Amy: Well check this out….

Amy told me that he had been in the channel and she was curious, so she pinged his IP address and did a “whois” on his nickname to see if it was him and what channels he was in. Some very interesting information came up when she did that.

He was visiting some “married-but-bi” channels or something.

I was aware of M’s leanings hence the ex term in front of the boyfriend moniker. There was more, so very much more as to why we weren’t together but I was done with him and not really worried about his sexual orientation.

Amy: That’s not really the reason I asked you to come online.
Me: What’s the deal?
Amy: Did he ever take a picture of you?
Me: Ames, how long was he hanging around? Since God was in short pants right?
Amy: Riiiiiiiight.
Me: Oh, no.
Amy: Oh yes.
Me: What did he do?
Amy: Well, he’s in some gay/bi/married channel or something and he has a picture of you that he’s sending out as himself with the name of Amanda on it.
Me: Isn’t that his ex-wife’s name?…. Oh shit.

So, a fun filled evening of finding out what pictures of me were floating around some sleazy channel (and the Internet) was the order of business. I called him on it and seriously considered putting an ad with his real home phone and address in a gay men’s magazine or just making neon flyers and passing them out down in the gay district of Dallas… but alas, my nice side won out and I just placated myself with thinking of him working at Burger King.

I was so exhausted and lonely and tired of the bullshit.

All of the years of swallowing the bitterness. All of the darkness I kept hiding within myself. All of the forced grins when I was grimacing on the inside.

I was done.

All I had ever wanted was to love something and be loved.

The games and being used were wearing me out in a big way. I had been used financially, emotionally, sexually… you name it.

I fell, like so many women, into a trap of basically “playing with whomever came to the door”. I was not choosy. I didn’t feel like I had any right to be. After all, I was just some broad with a college education, no family, no boyfriend, no history (that I wanted to share with anyone) and no future. And to top it off, I had a tubal pregnancy/miscarriage and a divorce under my belt.

What a catch.

I decided that I. Was. Through.

Right then and there.

I told all of my on again and off again boyfriends that I was done with them and for once in my life I burned bridges and ended friendships. I ended a friendship with a girlfriend that was not mutually beneficial. You ladies know the type, those girlfriends that take and take and take. They demand you be somewhere and then take some more, they wear you down with their drama and their neediness.

Emotional vampires. All of them.

I let them all go.

I stopped reading Vogue and Cosmo and anything that would make me feel more like a humongous piece of shit for not having a man and not being a size two at 5’9.5”. Fuck them too.

I spent hours and hours with Stacey at various bars and hangouts finally venting my frustrations and lancing my bitterness. Slowly the torrent of hate, frustration and anger eased to a trickle. God love her, she endured probably more than a girlfriend has a right to ask another one to, and for that, Stacey, Thank You.

Then I got online and found the perfect man. Shut up. I did find true love on the Internet. Once.

I searched and searched for him. I looked high and low. I looked in Dallas and the surrounding areas. I asked friends (the ones I had left) and neighbors. I consulted the newspaper and the want ads.

I found him.

He was young, well muscled, quiet, kind of shy and had the prettiest green eyes I had ever seen.

I went to pick up Max on June 17th, 2002 at the Irving SPCA. They had him listed as a Russian Blue, which I believe he is partly. They had him named Smokey. He was placed in the pound, which is a no-kill shelter, on February 5th, 2002. He was a fully intact male until June 5th, 2002. For those of you who don’t know, that means that he was most likely locked in his tiny little kitty cage for those 5 and one half long ass months.

They didn’t have the funds to fix him until then, and they won’t let them out with the other cats until they are spayed or neutered.

When I went to go meet him that day he was sitting on the floor in the cat room with all of the other fixed cats. He had his eyes on the floor, his little front paws tucked under his chest and he just sat there. I let him smell me and he was totally uninterested. I could have been a piece of peat moss.

I pulled him into my lap and that’s when I noticed the abysmal shape his coat was in, there was feces in his tail from his litter box not being cleaned out, his fur was dull and lifeless and he had dander all over his fur. It looked like he had dandruff.

He didn’t resist me, he just sat there. He didn’t react to me petting him or arch into my touch. My heart almost broke.

I had to get him out of there.

I filled out the paperwork without breaking into tears and gave the lady $75. She gave me a cardboard box with holes in it and Max went into it willingly enough. I fled from that place and called the vet closest to my house and told them I was on my way.

I took Max to the vet, then to PetCo. He got a clean bill of health at the vet and some new cat food, a new litter box, new food dish and water dish, new litter liners, new litter, a new collar, a cat brush and a Kitty Kat Alpine Climber (complete with kitty kat crack) at PetCo. I took him everywhere… just inside the box. And I talked to him for the whole three hours it took us to run those errands.

I got to the house and I took him and all the kitty accoutrements upstairs to my little air-conditioned quiet abode. I put down the box, but left him inside of it. I got his water and his food set up, his litter box and his Kitty Kat Alpine Climber (complete with kitty kat crack) set up in the corner and I talked to him the whole time… then I let him out.

I sat in the middle of the living room floor with the kitty brush and let him wander around my little one bedroom, one bath apartment. He looked around for what seemed like forever and then came over to check me out.

I held the brush out to him and then started working on his coat, he rolled over like a dog and started purring.

He lets me sleep on him, hug him, cry on him and sing to him… and he doesn’t complain all that much about my singing.

Who says you can’t find love on the Internet?


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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