©2000-2007 Cathe Jones

Where has she been lately?

 

a hi to the many folks who have emailed wondering where I've been.... I'm here.

cathe's gotta boyfriend, cathe's gotta boyfriend...

So my buddy Steve leaves that message on my answering machine every time he calls, cos he knows I won't be home. The girls at work, the guys too, keep reminding me, "And you said you weren't even going to date again for a year."

I wasn't. So I met a nice guy, who actually IS a nice guy, and decided, maybe once or twice. That was 3 months ago, and it still feels good.

Well enough about my lust life. How are you doing? We haven't chatted in such a long time. It just seems like every time I was about to write you, I have an email letter waiting.

The other day, I was walking through these yellow pages with my left hand, and found your handle right there in the Entertainment section. I had no idea that's where you found it. Smart!

What's new with me? Well, I got a new car. Yup, the rockmobile is finally in the posession of a college student, where it will be happier. I joined the cult of saturn.

The cult of saturn? You haven't heard of it? That's the car you can buy that will give you lifetime membership in the "WAVE AT ME on the freeway" club cos everyone else with the same car is now part of the FAMILY.

Oh, yeah, they're everywhere. When you pick up the car they photograph you and put the picture in their little calendars. Then you get a family album. You can also join a weekly or monthly group of folks who meet and talk about cars, and oil changes. I've even heard rumors that some folks actually bathe the cars in the same water in a party like setting.

The best part of the cult of saturn is the initiation ceremony. Before you test drive a car, you get to beat the crap out of a stripped model. No, not Cindy Crawford, the model of a car. Seriously, they walk you up to a car, and have you kick and wail on the thing. They lure you in with violence against an inanimate object.

Yup, that's what happened to me. The best sales pitch in the world is the offer to take all the anger you have against the job, the bills, the ex, and everything, then heave it into the side of a car before you drive the freeways of Los Angeles.

What? Oh, where have I been for the last month? Apparently saturns aren't really bumper cars once you get on the freeway. DAMN!

 

©2007 Cathe Jones