Singlutionary's 30by30

I'm back with a vengeance!

I'm blogging again -- all self-imposed gag orders have been lifted!

And I'm running.

And I'm going to quit eating like a teenager locked in an abandoned convenience store.

Two months ago, I went to a family reunion followed by a roadtrip with my parents followed by a childhood friend's wedding. I am not even going to touch upon the wedding on this blog (its all been said before) but what I decided on that trip is that I need to get my body back.

Get my body back from what? No, I didn't have a baby. But I feel like I did. I look like I did. But I have no excuse. There are no babies waking me up all night -- I sleep well. There are no children crying for a snack all day long -- I have a schedule where I can provide myself with nutritious meals without the temptation of grabbing something just to get through the day. I need to claim my body back from our culture of instant gratification, from two years of eating away my worries and sorrows, from the soon-to-be distant memories of struggling to become the Singlutionary that I am today.

On the trip I took my my parents, even my biggest pants were beginning to feel tight. And I realized that, as I approach 30, the time to deal with my bad habits is NOW. I want to enter my 30s in the best shape of my life. I want to be active. I want to climb mountains and forge rivers and do all sorts of Oregon Trail type activities. And I want it to be easy. So, while on this trip, I texted a Singlutionary friend and said "What about training for a marathon?" Her response was: "Sure, I need a absurd goal".

My absurd goal begins with running. I found a marathon training program online and, despite several little setbacks, I have been sticking to it. So far I've gone from not even being able to run a half a mile to being able to run over 1 mile without stopping. I've also gotten faster. I've never been a runner or an athlete of any kind. What I am really learning from this, is NOT to be intimidated by physical challenges. My body began to change right away. It tightened up. I have muscles in places that were formerly dough.

But I haven't lost any weight. This doesn't concern me at this juncture. As I keep running, I'll get more confidence and I'll be better able to keep those eating demons off my back. I don't want to diet. I don't want to deprive myself of food in the sort term because I know that I'll just end up pigging out in the long run. I want to finally overcome my horrible addiction to sweets and I want to nurture myself enough that I can create a lasting habit of cooking and eating good food at home.

So. Blogging: Check. Running: Check. Eating: I'll get back to you on that one.

The name of this project is titled: 30by30. I want to lose 30lbs by my birthday at the end of October.

But it really isn't about weight loss -- that is just the title of an absurd benchmark. This is about allowing myself to become the woman that I've always had the potential to be but never let myself become. It is about freedom -- physical freedom, freedom from my food issues, freedom from all the doubts that ganged up on me in my mid 20s.

On Halloween, I've invited my friends to run with me for 16 miles through out the city in our Halloween Outfits. And on New Years Eve, I am going to run 26 plus miles -- the length of a marathon.

Absurd goals are my new best friend.

Singlutionary's House Kicks Ass!!

Yet again, I am going to postpone posting my not-so-weekly Wednesday homeownership article.

But I did enjoy some raucous laughter tonight with my two remaining -- and very sane and fun roommates. We've taken back the house from Hoggle and we're loving it. It was nice to come home and relax in good company.

The past few weeks have been full of stress and full of wonder at the same time. I have a clarity in my mind and a simplicity in my day-to-day life that I've never quite managed to have before. I eat well and simply and in moderate proportions. I work daily, Monday through Friday, yet I miss the peak traffic rush. My chickens now produce one egg daily amongst the tree of them. And once I week I see my sister, and one a month we see her sister/my best friend.

This has nothing to do with owning a home. But life does feel settled and grounded and easy in a way that it never has before.

Of course last weekend I had a dead cat followed by an evil roommate. And, as always, I have suitors who fall to the wayside, just as the peak my interest.

But everything in life is OK as long as I can just come home to a peaceful, comfortable place with good people and good pets.

I've realized over the past several days, that despite everything, I LOVE having roommates. I never though I would say that. But good roommates become best friends. And multiple roommates create a community. Through my house, I've been able to provide an improved quality of life, not only for myself, but for the individuals that I share it with. And I am super excited about it.

A Fresh Start, Single

As promised, I am back to writing in the new year! Welcome to 2010!

Not only is this the first year of a new decade, it is also the last year of my 20s. I will turn 30 in about 10 months. This fact didn't bother me too much until I went home for Christmas.

I love going home and I am blessed with a loving and supportive family. My parents are completely accepting of my uncoupled life.

But I think that others are beginning to find it strange. After all, I am almost 30. I am getting old. Pretty soon I won't be able to have children. Do I have any prospects?

My age, coupled with the fact that I am still unemployed makes me out to be somewhat of a pity case in the eyes of some relatives. They are not trying to be assholes; they are genuinely concerned for me.

But I've never lived life according to the pattern. I've always broken the mold. And going home for Christmas this year, I realized, for the first time ever, that I have ALWAYS been the black sheep.

I find so much value and joy in my life. I am happy and, despite current financial strain, I feel secure. Unfortunately, my joyfulness and security doesn't translate back home. Only my parents (who have actually visited me) see the value of my life here.

It is sad somehow, to realize that my own precious and amazing life, when viewed through the eyes of my extended family, is something of concern, something to fret about.

Until now I haven't felt much societal pressure to couple and marry. I've pressured myself because I felt that it would make social interaction with my coupled friends easier or because I thought it would alleviate various other stresses in my life (which I learned it would not). I no longer feel any self-pressure to couple. But I am beginning to feel it from outside in the form of the well meaning queries of loved ones and their stories about their friends, the moral of which always seems to be: "Don't give up hope, you can still get married and have children, you still have some time left".

The great thing is that I don't go home very often. Instead I live in a city where I have always felt accepted and where I have a network of coupled and uncoupled friends who are supportive and appreciative of who I am and see me as a whole person with a life worth celebrating.

If I had never left my home state and had stayed amongst these same people I would have never have gotten to know myself. Part of the problem is that my life in my old city was filled with relationships with people who did not understand me, who had expectations of me that I did not have of myself. It is not their fault that they have a different world view. It is not their fault that they can not comprehend, even now, who I am or what I am doing or how I could be happy living the way I do. These are intelligent, loving people. But there is a narrowness to their thinking. Moving to a new city gave me space for new friends and to establish new relationships with people who are more like me. I am sure there are plenty of kindred spirits back where I come from but my life out there was too full of existing relationships for me to meet them.

So if you're single, give yourself a fresh start this year. If you've wanted to move but were afraid to do so, reach out to this online community for moral support and take the leap. (It is much harder to move once you're coupled.) If, for whatever reasons, you need to grow where you're planted, make a fresh start in another way. Take a class or go on a solo roadtrip. Or just try a new grocery store or a new brand of toothpaste.

The Singlution is back in business in 2010. My fresh start includes posting Monday-Friday with homeowner and do-it-yourself advice, single blogger and single resources profiles, giveaways, personal stories and more.

Happy New Year to my fellow Singlutionaries!

Heathen Family Home Evening

This week I had Heathen Family Home Evening ((H)FHE) with my sister. We plan to have (H)FHE every Monday night just like a normal mormon family but she had to work late this past Monday so we had it on Tuesday instead. 

Family Home Evening is one of those things I picked up on when I lived in Utah. And since me and my sister are on the periphery of mormonism but definitely not real mormons by any stretch of the imagination we jokingly call it "Heathen FHE". 

This week was kinda the first week of this new tradition. For the past year, my sister and I didn't really talk to each other. She is 8 years younger than me and had to go out in the world and grow up and now she is an adorable, sweet, responsible young woman who is gracefully and bravely continuing to live her life in the wake of her mother's sudden death a few weeks ago. 

After all the dust settled from the funeral and we both made it safely back home, I asked her if she would have (H)FHE with me every Monday. 

I enjoy FHE because, while it is about family, to me it is really about community: It is not an exclusive activity, but an inclusive one. My sister and I have FHE at my house and my roommates come and go with their stories and conversations and it would also be OK to include a friend or even a stranger. We just spend time making and eating dinner and catching up with each other about the week or doing a simple project like making ice cream or creating post cards. Its really basic. And that is why I like about it. It is a night to honor the folks who are, for whatever reason, in my living room that night. And its one night a week which is dedicated to celebrating the joy and love that these people bring into my life. It doesn't matter if they've been in my life 21 years or 21 hours. I just matters that they're here and that we all are appreciative of each other's existence. 

Our culture seems to be set up for people to honor their spouse of their partner in many ways on many days through out the year. We also have ways to show love and appreciation for our parents and children (if you've got 'em). But what about everyone else? Since college I've started to feel like the only way to honor friends is to take them out to dinner or to throw a party all of which requires driving around town and parking and spending a lot of money and energy and often leaves me so exhausted that I wish I didn't have any friends to begin with. 

Setting aside one night a week to gather with the folks who are important in my life feels incredibly comforting and rewarding. Observing Heathen Family Home Evening is a great way to make a habit of honoring everyone in my life: my sister, my roommates, my friends and my Singlutionary dog. We sit around and share good company, laughter, simple homemade food and (if your heathen like me) a bottle of wine. But really we mainly sit around being grateful for each other.  

Call it whatever you want but I heart this new tradition. And I heart it even more because it has nothing to do with spending or status. Its really about just being us, whoever we are, no matter what we're going through. 

My Body, My Soul

Today is my first day at home in two weeks. One week ago today I was on a plane back from my best friend and my unofficial little sister's mother's funeral. One week before that I was walking around like a zombie because Sexless Suitor sat on the opposite end of the sofa. I have been at my house off and on through the past two weeks. I have slept here, fitfully and deeply, I have tried to unpack, to tidy up, to get myself together. But today is my first whole day at home. Other days I have been on the road, or sick in bed or at work trying to not get fired. 

Today I feel normal again. I am not sure when my sister and my best friend (it was their mother who passed away suddenly, almost two weeks ago now) will feel normal again. This is a complicated kind of loss. Their mother was only 50 and although her death was sudden, it wasn't really a surprise. When I began to explain it to an older co-worker, someone who has seen a lot of life, he interrupted with a nod of understanding: "Hard life". Yes. She had a hard life and for the latter parts her children and then I were a witness to it. And, oftentimes, when her children were children, the hardness in her life spilled over onto them. 

There are so many complicated relationships at play here. And in many ways I am just an observer. But this woman who I had spent so much of my adult life being angry at or disgusted with is gone. It is a relief and a loss at the same time. Her kids feel the same way. But one result of her death is that it brought everyone together. 

We (my best friend, her sister who is also my unofficial little sister, their brothers and their wives and I) met in our hometown for a weekend. It was an erie experience, all together. The first morning there I walked from my parents home to the house where everyone else was staying. On the way I passed my elementary school just as the kids were arriving. For years I walked to school as a child this same way but now I, childless, was walking past and realized that I am now an adult, older than some of the parents. I searched the parent's faces wondering if I would recognize any of my former classmates. And then I did. Driving by was a friend from the 6th grade with her elementary aged kid in tow. 

There is this whole life that I didn't live when I left my hometown. There is this life there that seems uncanny and strange to me but which is totally normal and so very American and wholesome and apple pie. But even though none of us stayed in our hometown-- we all pretty much fled as soon as we were able, for one weekend, my best friend from kindergarten and all her family were gathered together in the same place we grew up to come to terms with their mother's death and the life she had lived there.

It was not easy. There are so many things I want to write about. I want to write about how my best friend's family is closer to me than my own, about how my unofficial sister really is my sister. I want to write about how my boss asked me: "So, now you want to go to the funeral?" as if I was asking for time off to go to a party. I want to write about how it is impossible for me to describe the relationships I have with people who are not biological kin without telling the whole stories of our lives. I want to write about how I think it was rude that my boss forced me to explain the entire relationship in order to validate the time I took off from work. I want to write about my mixed feelings about my hometown and how, to this day, feel totally out of place and misunderstood there.

But today is my first day at home. There is catching up to do. There is the blog crawl to write about, to comment on, to READ. There is ironing and laundry and a still empty room to rent. And there is my poor beat up and neglected body in need of nutrition and a pedicure. There is dinner to be made and groceries to be bought and order to be re-established. There are chickens to be fed and dogs to be walked.

Being single doesn't mean that I don't have responsibilities or committed relationships but it has forced me to learn how to nurture myself so that I can feel whole enough to be there for the people closest to me when they are feeling less than whole.