I'm 38 And I'm Single, And I'm

Before You Open The Lunch Menu Or Order That Cheeseburger Or Consider Eating The Cake With The Frosting Intact, Haul Out The Psychic Calculator And Start Tinkering With The Budget.

Mastery Over The Body - Its Impulses, Its Needs, Its Size - Is Paramount; To Lose Control Is To Risk Beauty, And To Risk Beauty Is To Risk Desirability, And To Risk Desirability Is To Risk Entitlement To Sexuality And Love And Self-esteem.

Cats Are Narcissistic. Their Needs Come Before Ours. They Don't Understand The Word "no." They Carry Themselves With That Aloof, Arrogant Sense Of Perpetual Entitlement, They Will Jump Up And Insinuate Themselves Wherever They Please--on Your Lap, On Your Newspaper, On Your Computer Keyboard--and They Really Couldn't Care Less How Their Behavior Affects The People In Their Lives. I've Had Boyfriends Like This; Who Needs Such Behavior In A Housepet?

Love—the Desire To Love And Be Loved, To Hold And Be Held, To Give Love Even If Your Experience As A Recipient Has Been Compromised Or Incomplete—is The Constant On The Continuum Of Hunger, It's What Links The Anorexic To The Garden-variety Dieter, It's The Persistent Pulse Of Need And Yearning Behind The Reach For Food, For Sex, For Something.

Cats ... Are Like Four-legged Poster Children For Ocd.