I plan to live alone--or with a gay roomate preferably named Stefahn: do you know one? In my lonely apartment my cat, Barry Gibb, and I will have peace and quite because I will refuse to have parties or even small get togethers. Let it be known, however, that I am, in fact, a people person. I do not like people but when they are around I thrive. People are all that keep me from talking to myself in quite tones with varied inflection pretending to be different people. If Stefahn and I lived together I'm sure there'd be drunken parties and strange gay boys crying to me about their boy problems while I lament on mine as well every night. How would I get in my night-time car cries with people in my tiny apartment?!
I also intend on not getting married. Men take effort and that's something that I will not be willing to put forth during my mad audition phase and my whinney I didn't get in phase. I'll leave the boys for Stefahn, maybe even for Barry Gibb: who am I to judge my cat's preferences? I know I will not make much money but the intention is for there to be enough for BeeGee and I to get along. I look forward to many weeks of Ramen noodles in my future, it's good that I love them. If I ever leave the apartment I'm sure it'll be to take Mr. BeeGee to the vet or myself to the ER. I know it's silly to see such a bleak future but I don't want to be that person who sees everything as shiny kittens and rainbow riding Celine Dion look-a-likes and then have all my hopes dashed. I prefer to see NYC as the cold place it will be, I'll be happy either way. Okay, so maybe if I met the real Celine it'd be better. Oh well, my heart will go on.