COLUMN: Farewell, Miss Jones

This week was the worst week in recent memory. Like usual, on Monday I left my duplex. Destination: supermarket. I needed the basics: condensed milk, prunes, a 24-pack of TAB, a 20-pound box of cat litter and a week’s worth of cat food (about one 30-pound bag of Meow Mix). I checked out and walked over to the bus terminal. About 10 minutes later the bus came. I said hi to Travis (the driver) and took my usual seat. When I got home, my babies were all waiting at the door, ready for me to break open the fresh bag of Meow Mix. I cooked myself some Top Ramen and steamed carrots, fed the cats and sat down to watch my TiVo’d episode of “Oprah.”
    Sometime between Melissa Etheridge’s interview and the cooking session, I fell asleep. I woke up 20 minutes later to a dull meow coming from the kitchen. Normally when I’m watching TV I have at least Freckles, Tux, Bella and the Professor sitting on my legs, stomach and chest, but there was no cat in sight. I called to them but none of the 28 cats responded. Worried, I hurried to the kitchen. What I saw was horrible. Cats strewn across the floor, counters and table tops. I didn’t know what to do. I tried splashing water on them, shaking and mouth-to-mouth but nothing worked. From the corner came the Professor’s meow, which was weak and sad. I rushed to her side, picked her up and cradled her in my arms. She was the last one still breathing, and I watched the flame in her eyes go out.
    Miss Jones died last week, along with all of my sweet, innocent cats. I can no longer live the lie of an all-knowing, experienced lady. Truth is, I’ve never left Cache Valley. I’ve never even been to Salt Lake City. I’ve never felt the warmth of a man’s touch or tasted the sweet elixir of life. I’ve never been in a relationship, written any books, been in movies or on the “Price is Right.” I’ve never sailed off the coast of Columbiaor or been to Venice. Truth is, I’ve never lived. But after seeing everything I care about being taken away from me by a bad bag of Meow Mix, I’m determined to change that. I don’t want to live alone anymore. I don’t want my closest friend to be my 16-year-old cat. I don’t want the closest sex I’ve ever had to be sex that scene with Dennis Quaid in “The Big Easy.”
    I’m determined to make my life better. I’m sorry to say this, my faithful readers, but I’m resigning. I’ve booked my spot on the Queen Mary 2 World Cruise. I leave from Fort Lauderdale in one week. I have a good feeling about the next chapter of my life, and although I won’t be giving you weekly advice you will always be in my heart. I won’t forget you – any of you. You mean more to me than I can explain, and I hope that even though all my advice was pieced together from soap operas, romance novels and “Twilight” that you learned something about yourself. Something you can carry with you the rest of your life.
    My last piece of advice is simple … be yourself. Live the life you want for yourself, not those around you. You only live once, so have fun and don’t live the sheltered, terrifying life I did. Explore, leave your comfort zone and most importantly … Love.
    All my love and best wishes,

Miss Jones