I'm Dumping all my Boyfriends

For sure this is true. I'm basically done with the human race these days.
It all started with the little things-- the lady telling me "she told me so" (which she didn't) when I mentioned how my luggage was lost and along with it, my special medication (ie, birth control so my face is pretty and not a war zone, and an antidepressant, so I don't cry when morons tell me that I should have known better). I fought the urge to stomp on her foot.
Then I found that other things were annoying or offensive-- snide remarks here and there from people I find obnoxious anyway; insinuations about my life choices (or rather, my circumstances-- my choices I am 100% proud to own up to [even when I'm not proud of what I've done], and I wear my less-than-desirable circumstances like a badge of honor: I have an amazingly blessed life, even under the most difficult of times) from people who know me and people who don't; and let's not forget that way humanity's general failures seem to manifest themselves in people and disappointment sneaks up on ya-- namely selfishness, greed, arrogance, and forgetting about life being a journey and helping along your fellowman.
Women are awful. They're catty. I'm particularly annoyed with the martyrs who like to throw you under the bus at the first chance they get to step over you into someone else's good graces. Another particular brand of annoying: the cluelessly insulting, who can't seem to help but be offensive. Sometimes women's brand of evil is doing nothing but loudly complaining about the hard work of another, and sometimes it's just pure meanness-- truly mean women are famous for making sure you know you're not invited to something and then saying in a sickeningly-sweet voice, "Oh, you should have come!" Blast!
And men, while perhaps not patently evil like the members of my gender, fall into the category of mindlessly selfish and generally unconscious. When I was in high school, I found a significant number of the boys who'd ask me out would stand me up. Obviously, I wasn't very important to them. Years of better dating experience have healed me, and though I maintain my general propensity for frank, immediate forgiveness, I've gotten a little wiser in my old age and I no longer put up with the crap. These boys who would have me cook for them week after week who never lift a finger to clear the table? Outta here! I've lost my patience for the slow ones who tell me they are so proud that they kissed someone of my caliber, now surely they'll be able to get girl x, y, and z. (I know what you're thinking: "Rachel! Why do you go/hang out with nincompoops?" The sad answer is some of these men represent the so-called cream of the crop from my social circle.)
Last night, a boy who'd asked me out a week before announced that we weren't going out as planned. There was no explanation except he didn't want to go to our planned activity. And I said, "OK." But while he probably thinks he can reschedule, I secretly smile at his idiocy. The ship has sailed, and I'm moving on to greener pastures (how's that for a mixed metaphor/cliche?!).
So for my masculine readers, or my young sisters who think that I'm an old, jaded harpy, I'm going to share a secret I've learned. I was once in your shoes, and thought single women of my age were surely in that position because they were bitter and ugly and had nothing to offer the world. I do what I can to not be ugly and to leave the world better than I found it. This post may mask well as bitterness, but I think it's more exasperation. I'm gobsmacked every time I think about a) how lucky I am to not be straddled with commitment to a lazy, unthoughtful jester for eternity and b) how I don't see a light at the end of this tunnel.
As I wander alone in the dark, I'm particularly pleased that I've worked to be a likable, interesting person, because the company is pretty good.