Crazy Ferret Sex

So, I was cleaning out the ferret cages yesterday, which I generally do once a week. Also during the week I feed and water the ferrets. I spend a lot of time with them (well, more time than I would like at any rate). But yesterday, as I was taking Pete and The Girl (who, according to my roommate, is too much of a bitch to get a name) out of their cage for the cleaning, a thought occurred to me for the first time:

"Gee. This is a boy ferret and a girl ferret. I wonder if they're involved. I wonder if they have ferret sex."

Then I realized that I have no idea what ferret sex entails, so like every savvy internet user, I googled it.

People talk about having sex like bunnies a lot, which means, I suppose, it is frantic and twitchy, and you do it often. You don't want to talk about having sex like ferrets, which entails a lot of the male dragging the female around by the neck.

Just another friendly animal fact from the girl who cleans the ferret cages!

My way or the Freeway?

Before work today, I was sitting on my back stoop, enjoying a nice glass of water with lemon (all of the water I drink at home has lemon in it, because I hate how our water tastes), when the neighbor's cat started mewing loudly from the next porch over.

The neighbor's porch is much nicer than ours. It is wooden and red and high off the ground. Ours is concrete steps.

So the cat whines at me and I say 'hi, kitty!' and it jumps off their porch and over the fence and comes to hang out with me on the concrete steps. The cat was slumming. He/she (I think of it as a he, so that's wht he's getting called from now on) started rubbing up against me, so I pet him. And I checked out his collar and learned his phone number and that his name is Freeway.

Freeway and I hung out for awhile and I scratched his head and pet him and then Freeway left. He saw a stranger, thought "Hey...she'll take care of my physical needs" and once he was satiated, he left.

Imagine if I lived my life like that.

Of course, if that was my life, I'd been worried about more than fleas afterwards.

No Men For Life.

I had a bit of an ordeal this weekend.

I ended up in a situation with four guys talking about women with very little filter. Women they’d slept with. Women they wished they’d slept with. Women their buddies have slept with. Who did what with who and when and most of it in the filthiest language possible.


It’s enough to put a girl off men permanently.

I’ve never heard men speak so candidly about their sexual conquests. It was certainly interesting. It was rather like seeing a car accident- the whole you can’t look away thing.

But how awful to realize that they really do sit around and talk about us in the way we always have feared. How horrific to have witnessed the proof.

And I know for a fact that I have been so discussed. I know because once a guy friend in college told me details about an encounter that he certainly didn’t hear from me.

I’m not saying I don’t Kiss and Tell. Of course I do. I can’t keep my mouth shut about anything. I have three separate blogs. I constantly fling my thoughts out onto an unsuspecting world.

But when women talk about sexual encounters…I know this is sort of clichéd, but it’s more about feelings. How did that make you feel? I’m really happy about this. I really wish I hadn’t done that.

Sometimes we reveal a little too much. Sometimes we, too, can be crude. But I feel that our crudeness is either a celebration of our happiness or a bid for sympathy. It isn’t a mean little triumph.

I don’t ever want to be discussed in that manner. Never. Never again, at least. And there’s only one way I can think of making sure that I’m not. Obviously, I can never even kiss a guy until I’m seriously dating him and we’re both madly in love. And afterwards, I must cut his tongue out. A little Titus Andronicus in the bedroom.

Camus Wants Me to be a Slut

Really, I'm just putting off my take home midterm with a little reflection and wishing I had more Battlestar Galactica to watch on DVD.

Yes, I've become hooked on Battlestar Galactica. Don't judge- you do geeky things, too. Also, they canceled Firefly a long, long time ago, so what's a girl to do for her 'we-are-flawed-people-hurtling-through-space' fix?

Anyway, last night in grad class was Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus. And I have to say, now that we've temporarily taken a break from the uber-depressing views of Sartre (who I loved, don't get me wrong) and Kafka, there's really something to this Absurd (capital A) stuff. Our professor keeps saying "obviously we all don't feel like this, or we couldn't be here debating these ideas", which doesn't make any sense to me. Most of the philosophical pieces we're reading are nothing but debate. Kierkegaard and Sartre admit they don't know what they're talking about- I'm pretty sure with the Absurd you can't KNOW anything- they're just tossing ideas out there.

But Camus put the Absurd into exactly the words I was looking for:
"This world in itself is not reasonable, that is all that can be said. But what is absurd is the confrontation of this irrational and the wild longing for clarity whose call echoes in the human heart. The absurd depends as much on man as on the world."

So how can my professor dismiss the Absurd as something his students cannot possibly feel? Doesn't everyone feel this? Not constantly. That's what drives people to despair and suicide (two very uplifting class topics). And I'm full of things the Absurd isn't so about, like: hope, a desire for romance, a longing for wealth and material possessions. But we all feel the world doesn't make sense and have a strong desire to make it make sense. Almost everything we do in life- jobs, taxes, marriage- is an attempt to put order into our world. And then something happens- 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, the tsunami- to let us know that we have no control and there's no such thing as order.

Boo-yah, Professor Donaldson.

Anyway, what I really wanted to focus on in this blog was Camus' thoughts on Don Juan as an ideal man. Don Juan is a do-er, in all senses of the word. Heehee. Yes, he'll do you, too. The geeky students of the Absurd got a big kick out of that one. Don Juan loved a woman. Then he loved another woman. He didn't collect them. He never thought of the past women when he was with a new one. He lived in the moment and he constantly acted. This is the way to thrive in an Absurd universe. So says Camus.

Yup, lots of sex for all of us, as long as we aren't bogged down by regret or longing for the past or a desire for a deeper connection. And we can't lie to our partners. We can't make promises or say we love them or that they're the only one for us. This is what Sartre would call 'acting in bad faith'.

According to Camus, Don Juan is in the right, because "he loves [each woman] with the same passion and each time with his whole self that he must repeat his gift and his profound quest". The women are foolish because "each [one] hopes to give him what no one has ever given him. Each time they are utterly wrong." They want to teach him to love, but he does love. Everyone. One at a time.

"Why should it be essential to love rarely in order to love much?"

Also, I suspect Don Juan may have attended McDaniel College and been in the theater department.

Also, every time I say 'g drive' at work, I feel like I'm saying something dirty. It makes me want to giggle.