V is for Victorious

Thank you to Onely for their wonderful Valentines Day profile of happy single bloggers (of which Singlutionary is included).

This Valentines Day, I feel victorious. Not because I have a boyfriend to shower me in calories and crap but because I am not angstified over not having one.

I've actually never had a boyfriend or partner or date on Valentines day. I've always celebrated alone, not understanding what all the fuss is about. When I was a teenager I worked in a chocolate shop and had to wait on all the angsty men who came in knowing that whatever they got their woman would somehow not be enough or somehow be wrong. As a result, they would not only NOT get laid, but they would end up sleeping on the couch.

And then there is my friend who's then boyfriend got her a dead plant for V-day. She married him anyways, found out he was a freeloader over the course of the next 7 years and is now engaged to someone else.

If I were in a relationship, I would want to pretend that Valentines Day doesn't exist.

As a matter of fact, I am avoiding one of the men I've been dating this weekend. This particular gentleman -- I'll call him Suburban Sailboater -- seems like he might be a bit into romance. We've only been out twice and I like him but I need to tell him that I like him as a FRIEND. I realized during the second date that I am simply not interested in him romantically -- mainly because I can't see being in a relationship with him due to a lack of conversational chemistry but also due to his making some weird kissing NOISES when he was kissing my neck (like a hissy kissy sound). I don't know why but the hissy kissy sound made my vagina immediately close up shop for the night and drove him straight into friend territory.

I know, I know. I shouldn't be so picky about the hissy kissy from the Suburban Sailboater.

Whatever. If a guy isn't hot on the 2nd date, things are NOT going to get better. And by hot I don't mean tall, dark and handsome (although Suburban Sailboater is definitely tall, dark and geeky) but merely a good sexual match -- someone with whom I share a massive sexual chemistry worthy of sixteen condoms.

But I digress. This Valentines Day I am victorious because I am not TRYING to make something work just because I want something special to happen on V-day. I am not going on a forced date or pining away for Mr. Awesome. I am grateful for Suburban Sailboater and hope that we can develop a friendship sometime NEXT weekend when we are safely out of the V-day zone.

I am comfortable with myself, proud of where I am and satisfied with the work meeting/job interview/audition/homework that I will be doing tomorrow on St. Valentines Day.

Romance is always the best when it is organic and unexpected. The pressures of Valentines Day would best be served somewhere else. With less pomp, less force, less candy, fewer creepy pink bears and less expectation. And, dare I say it: With MORE love.

There are many folks who take the opportunity to celebrate Valentines day by celebrating all the non-romantic love in their lives. While I would prefer and just hide out from the holiday, I think that is a wonderful idea.

So if you want to buy someone a creepy pink bear, buy one for the people who love and support you no matter what -- even when you're in the doghouse, on the sofa and hornier than a rhino because you've been celibate for 3 to 30 years.

Seeing Singlutionary

I've been more or less absent from blogging for over a year now. And although, during this time, I very much wanted to write, wanted to continue to participate in the happily single online community -- I also felt like I had nothing to say.

Either I had nothing to say, or I couldn't figure out what to say.

Writing stopped feeling cathartic because suddenly, being single & happy was, well, boring. I was content. My issues weren't around being single but around working out other kinks in my life.

And, for part of the past year I was not single. I was unhappily coupled, trapped in a strange relationship that I have no idea how I wound up in. It was a friendship gone awry which did teach me a few things about myself that I wasn't aware of: That I am seduceable despite my better intentions, that I am ambitious beyond my wildest beliefs and that I am incompatible with a broad range of personality traits which include heavy drinking, annoying questions and general neediness.

I tried to ride out the relationship with grace in order to save the friendship and failed.

It just wasn't something that I wanted to write about. Especially knowing that my blog would be read by said love-disaster.

A good portion of the year has transpired since that relationship came to a close and I am beginning to experience new revelatory interactions which might result in something more than a post saying "I'll be back soon".

I've also been blessed with many free books which need to be reviewed.

So, tonight, this Friday night, three months after my last post, I am finally on that long awaited date with my blog.

I could be on a date with a man. I have a few prospects, all of which are promising both physically and intellectually. But I am not. I am at home, being the homebody that I am and grateful for this time to jump back into the Singlutionary world.

Even though I suspect that I will not feel single much longer. Because, I have now at my disposal a growing community of smart, funny and interesting men.

Being without men was the only thing that was an issue before. Not in a romantic or even sexual way (although missing sex and intimacy was definitely an issue at times) -- but in some kind of yin/yang balance. I need men in my life just as I need friends with various perspectives and upbringings in my life. I need that male perspective and -- to be quite honest -- the masculine quality in general.

Some of the best times I had this year were with men who I am not romantically involved with -- I hiked to the top of Angel's Landing in Zion and spent a week in Chicago discussing Shakespeare with my Comical Cousin and a week ago today I spend the day hiking outside of Vegas to a delicious hot spring with (an admittedly sexy) Future Fed. And lately Tall Turtle has been buying me beers and generally showing me a good, laid back time (OK, so there is obviously some potential romance there).

But, in general, I think I've finally learned how to be friends with men. And it is a great experience and fills the place in my life that was made empty when my female friends all defected to marriage and babies.

And this blog, my Singlutionary life, is here on Friday nights when the best thing to do is check up with all the wonderful single people out there and their creative, interesting, engaging lives which are so full and joyful and positive despite being considered, by many of our culture, to be missing their "other half".

Planning My Comeback

I've been gone so long but it feels so good to be back. I've missed all my blog friends and thought of you often. There has been so much to write about that I'm not sure what to select. It would be impossible to write about it all.

I am still, slowly, but surely, figuring that out.

What I do know is that this blog will go back to the original vein -- stories from the Singlutionary. The rest of the topics around which I have clarity (homeownership, how-to, self employment, etc) and which I don't (sex, money, etc) will be addressed separately somewhere else on the webiverse (but I will redirect to them from here -- for those that are interested).

So my blog friends, I will return to catch up on your lives and to swap stories from the Singlutionary life. Just give me a bit more time to catch my breath, get a grasp on my thoughts and hit the snooze button, yet again.

With Love,

Singlutionary

Singlutionary Job Search

All this week I've been agonizing over my job situation. Before this month, I was unemployed for two months without a clue as to what I wanted to do next. I just knew that I didn't want to return to anywhere that I'd been.

I also struggled with accepting that I NEED a job. I mean, I don't NEED a man/partner/relationship/spouse so why would I NEED a job? Can't I just do it myself and have my own business and make a life for myself that way?

Well, I can. But right now I need income.

So. I NEED a job.

(It took me two whole months just to accept that).

Anyways. I am looking now, diligently, for a full time job. This week I had two interviews and at the same time I was working full time, for 2/3 of my usual pay, at a temp job in a call center.

Talk about desperate!

But the thing is that this job, which I took so reluctantly, only out of desperation, has been the best thing ever. I even got a mini-promotion there after just a couple days. I feel appreciated, I feel that it is OK to be smart. I feel rewarded for being smart and quick and a good worker.

I have been pretty beaten up by jobs lately. This job lifts me up. This crappy little temp job with a not-so-nice commute and lousy pay is a TOTAL BLESSING.

So, while I know that this job is not long-term material, I've decided to stay there until after I get back from India. This way I can focus on negotiating a salary when I get a full time job and not take lower pay just so that they'll let me take off time in March to travel.

Also, this way I can go to India for longer since most of the expense is in the plane ticket.

This jobs pays me just just just enough to scrape by and to save a tiny bit of money. But it is so much fun. It is Friday and after working a 40 hour week (which I am not accustomed to) I feel energized, not drained.

I never once had to defend my integrity or my abilities this week. I never had to sit there and take it while someone tore me apart. I didn't get bitched at for not taking enough initiative one minute and then bitched at for taking out the garbage or using too many swiffers the next.

I've been in abusive relationships. Both with men and with employers. And it has been so long since I've been treated WELL that I kinda forgot what it was like. I forgot that I am deserving of praise and respect. I forgot that I AM smart and a good worker and employable and promotable.

At my last job I was refused a promotion for a job that I was already doing. And then I got fired. That was after my boss told me that I had a horrible personality and condescended to me every single day for three and a half months.

Before I became Singlutionary, I was so desperate to be in a relationship that I would take any kind of treatment (for a while at least) because I thought that if there were problems, I just wasn't trying hard enough. I've never been in a relationship where I was praised and respected and valued, where it was OK to be smart and hard working and funny. I've always been viewed by my boyfriends as inherently wrong either because I don't like music enough or I didn't want to have orgies during the full moon or I don't want to bear his children within 8 months or because I need time to work on my car instead of playing with his balls. (You think I am joking about some of these things but ALL of them are true.)

I need to apply the Singlutionary approach to jobs. I am unwilling to work in an environment that does not value me, where I have to pretend to be something that I am not in order to avoid punishment, where I am abused, lied to, taken advantage of and clearly disliked.

This temp jobs is a blessing just in the nick of time. It is saving me from financial ruin, it is reminding me of my better qualities, rebuilding my self esteem and it gives me a platform from which I no longer have to be desperate in my job search.

No, I can not pay off my debts in any reasonable amount of time working at this job. No, I can not buy my country ranch with this job. No, I can not afford to eat out or buy a car or remodel my bathroom with this job.

But I can afford to be choosy.

I can afford to wait for a good job to come along for a good company with the right benefits. I can afford to wait until a job opens up in an office where I would fit in. I can afford to interview my interviewer just as much as they are interviewing me. I can refuse to work at a property that I don't like.

Of course, no job is perfect. I am not looking for perfection. I am sure there will be days when people grate on my nerves and there will be policies which offend me. But I'm not going to get fired again. I'll quit before that happens. I'll quit at the 1st sign of insanity.

But more importantly, I now have the luxury of carefully considering every job offered to me.

I've been extended a 2nd interview for a permanent job which would pay almost twice as much as my temp job, plus benefits. But I know I don't want it. I know that it is not a good fit, that I am too smart and too ambitious for the office, that the company is too small and that the property is not expensive enough and the residents are unsophisticated.

(That last part sounds REALLY judgemental but if you work 40 hours a week in an apartment complex, you want to be in a nice one. TRUST ME. Otherwise there are a lot of evictions and collections. Also, things fall apart faster in lower rent complexes and they don't get fixed and there is more crime, etc. But nicer complexes often have lots of very interesting people, many of whom are single, who travel and explore the world and have interesting careers and hobbies, etc. )

So I am going to work at this temp job until India and then for a little while after that. I am so excited to KNOW what I am doing for the next 2 months. I've been living life day-to-day, instant-to-instant for the past 3 months now. I am excited to commit to this job for a short period of time, knowing that eventually I'll have to move on. I am excited to be working, to know approximately what my schedule is like. I am excited for payday.

But most of all, I am excited to have the ability to sit back and enjoy my job search, to feel less frantic about it and to quit being desperate!!!

The End of Abstinent Admirer

I used to have a beaux named Abstinent Admirer. He would come into the office where I worked and shower me with admiration. But not in a creepy way. And I loved it. He was smart and funny and knew about cars and I sang his praises all over this blog.

I thought he was an OK guy and when he announced to me on a walk that he was abstinent (for the past 18 years no less) I took it as a sign that I could trust him. After all, all of my relationships have been short lived and most of them were only about sex. This was a new kind of experience.

I decided to give Abstinent Admirer a chance. 

But Abstinent Admirer wasn't only sexually abstinent. He was also emotionally abstinent. He couldn't seem to get past meeting me in the office. He took me to a football game once but seemed scared to sit next to me. At the end of the night he ran off to his sister's house and I felt completely rejected. I thought maybe we would hang out and talk for a while maybe hold hands or at least sit next to each other.

Before I was fired last week, Abstinent Admirer had faded from potential boyfriend to friend to acquaintance to nothing. I am sure he went by on Monday to pay his rent and I am sure he was told that I no longer work there. And I am sure that some part of him was relieved. 

But in the absence of Abstinent Admirer, I am still, well, abstinent.

But why and for how long? Am I waiting for marriage like Abstinent Admirer was? That is a hard thing to do when one isn't really too keen on getting married. What am I waiting for then?

There are a couple guys--like Skinny Waiter who (I think) I made out with on the night I lost my purse/shoes/dignity and Anal Sex Australian and Angsty Indie Film/Large Cucumber Guy who would happily take a dip in my enchanted pool but the thought of having sex with any of them totally disgusts me. It is a path that I have been down before many times: Having sex with men who just want sex from me as if is some kind of final prize on which they pretend to hang their happiness.

I want to have sex in a relationship where there is love and trust. I know that sounds kinda old fashioned for a Singlutionary but why the heck not? At the same time sex within a loving respectful relationship seems as far away as peace on earth or a steady paycheck.

I had a date with Teapot on Sunday. I don't want to write too much about it at this juncture (since this is not a dating blog) but it did make me wonder: When is it appropriate for ME to have sex again? What do I want to do/feel/see/understand/believe before I have sex. How do I want that all to play out?

So far my abstinence has been about not getting hurt (although I was hurt anyways by Abstinent Admirer) and not repeating the same experience I've repeated too many times before. But what happens after that? How do I get to the point where I'm having a new kind of experience and what do I want this new experience to be like?

I haven't quite figured all of that out yet. But it is interesting to think about. I've never thought about this before. I've said things like: "I don't want to have sex until the 3rd date or until we've been together 3 months" but I've never thought about how I wanted to FEEL before having sex. 

So I guess at this juncture in my life I am opening up to being in a relationship. But that is another post altogether. 

Reproduction

I have a new admirer at work. He is some kind of nerd engineer just like most of my admirers through out my life. I don't know what it is about me that attracts nerd engineers. Anyways. My new admirer is funny, appropriate and has a face that kinda looks like a teapot. He is also just one year older than me but actually seems like a grown up.

Although I appreciate my new admirer, I also suspect that he is the kind of person who wants to have kids. Most people want to have kids especially nice stable 30 year old engineering teapots. And most people look at me and think that I am a nice stable almost 30 year old future baby maker.

Despite common perception, it is not a high priority for me in life to have kids. On the other hand, I can not say that I am 100% sure that I will not have kids either. If I were stronger in my no-kid convictions I would have had my tubes fried when I was 21. But my convictions only go this far: I do not want to have kids anytime soon and I most likely do not want to give birth. I would rather adopt. 

Of course there are a couple problems with my convictions:

1. If I don't want to have kids anytime soon (not anytime in the next 5-10 years) but I am rapidly approaching 30, my uterus might be retired by the time I get the desire to reproduce.

2. Even if I do not reproduce via my uterus and instead opt to adopt someone else's reproduction, I will still be an older parent. My parents were older parents and I have always wished that, if I were to be a parent, I be a bit younger than my parents were.

3. It is considered normal to want to have kids. Having kids is typically seen as the main reason for being married or being on planet earth. Most people have a strong inherent desire to reproduce. I am comfortable with my own lack of desire. I don't think there is anything wrong with me. But it does limit the pool of potential partners.

Why does Teapot's mere admiration bring all this up for me? I don't really know. I still haven't figured out what kind of relationship I want with a man, if any, much less if Teapot is really a qualified suitor. But I do feel attracted to him just as I still feel attracted to Abstinent Admirer. At this point in my life, I am attracted to people for qualities beyond sex. Teapot and Abstinent Admirer are fine male specimens but they are also interesting, caring and (dare I say) Singlutionary individuals. 

Maybe I am thinking about reproduction more today because I have been suffering from menstral cramps for about 12 hours now. They kept me up last night and since I have recently developed an allergy to Advil, I am babying my baby maker with a heating pad and hippie remedy tea (the tea actually seems to be working). 

I always get confused as to whether it is my uterus or my ovaries which are cramping. So I googled. And according to the Mayo Clinic, cramps are supposed to "lessen with age and often disappear once a woman has given birth". If that were true I would have gone ahead and had a baby at 25 and lived cramp free for the rest of my life! Are my cramps simply a monthly reminder that I have not yet reproduced? I think the Mayo Clinic is nuts because I know plenty of women who have given birth and still double up with cramps every month. Maybe they just didn't have ENOUGH babies? 

I don't know the answer to any of those nasty questions. Nor do I know what I think I might want from Teapot or from any potential mate. But I do now know, thanks to Abstinent Admirer, that I do want more than sex and less than children. I guess just a nice, comfortable, mutually supportive, long-term intimate relationship with someone worthy of welcome into my already vibrant life would be ideal. 

In closing, I would like to point out that the female reproductive system looks a lot like a longhorn:

For some strange reason this made me feel more Texan just for having lady parts. But then google also revealed to me that I am not the first person to have this revelation:

Sigh. 

Sexless Singlutionary Experiment

My abstinent admirer has got me thinking. 

My only issue with being single is that I have to deal with getting laid. If I only really want to get laid within a relationship but don't really want a relationship, my life is a daily catch 22. And I'm bored with having sex outside of a relationship.

No wonder I'm so frustrated! All I wanted from a relationship was sex but I kept complaining that all anyone ever wanted from me was sex. While I was learning how to NOT be desperate for a relationship, I was still ultra desperate for some good old fashioned humping.

So, I've decided to quit being desperate about sex. Its OK that I am getting older, that my body isn't perfect and isn't going to get more perfect. Its OK that sometimes I get mad that other people have a lover and I have myself. Its OK that my new exercise routine is upped my libido by about 100%. I am just going to accept sexlessness in the same way that I accept and enjoy singleness. I'm going to quit worrying about how long it was since I last got laid and with whom and how many notches I do or do not have on my belt. I'm going to quit thinking that everyone who is out there doing-the-nasty is happier and healthier and having more fun than me. I'm going to quit dreaming of my next orgasm like a girl daydreaming about her wedding day. 

This is an experiment that I am engaging in. Its a shift in my sense of identity. Its requiring me to be humble and to be perpetually horny. But if Abstinent Admirer can go 18 years, I can go 18 months, right? 

I quit being a desperate dater, a pitiful piner and I quit wah-wah-waiting for someone to come fix my whole life. So why am I still sitting around desperately waiting and pining for someone to come fix my vagina. Why am I even looking it like that? Gross! As if I NEED someone else with their spectacular body part to make my body parts whole?

Lately, the way I function in regards to sex and relationships has begun to come clear to me and I am beginning to understand that if all men have ever wanted from me is sex it is only because all I ever wanted from men was sex.

Sex was the one thing that I've been holding out on, that I've not been able to let go of. My life feels incomplete without sex which is why I was appalled that a totally sane, healthy and attractive man choose to go 18 years without it and not even be mad about it. What a waste, right?

And then I realized that people say the same thing about being single: Its such a waste of time to be alone all those years when you could be in a relationship/in love/married with children.

I don't need a relationship or kids to enjoy life. And now, I am going to try and enjoy my life without sex. 

I just really hope my experiment doesn't last 18 years. I just really hope not. 

Sex(less) Singlution

The comments to my last post about the crush-I-wish-I-didn't have were fascinating. Some people said "Go do him!" and others said "Don't feel bad about physical attraction" and others said "yes, non-committed sex is hard for me also" and everyone pretty much said: "Do what is right for you, there is no shame in that!"

Last week, I already knew that my crush/admirer is not a man who has one night stands. I knew that if I were to sleep with him, it would be a big deal to him and it would be the beginning of a relationship. 

And while I didn't know if I wanted a relationship, I did know that I found him attractive and fascinating. 

And then today, he cleared everything up on another walk around the lake: He simply took sex off the table. 

This attractive, intelligent, perceptive person hasn't had sex in 18 years. 

I almost fell down. I almost fell down and died right there on the lake trail. My body would have been run over by a couple bikers and then stampeded by a booty bootcamp group from the YMCA and then scattered by a stroller brigade. 

There is nothing wrong with NOT having sex. I used to live in Utah and I see the value in chastity. There is nothing wrong WITH having sex either. I was raised near the epicenter of free love and I understand the value of sharing. I, personally, am not convinced that monogamy is right nor am I enamoured with polyamory either. I am sure that each person has to work this out within themselves and follow their own convictions and desires.

But to not have sex for the same amount of time in which a baby grows into an adult? I was stunned. I was overwhelmed. I mean, I'm just on sex hiatus. I'm just taking a short break until I figure it all out, until I meet someone worth humping.

So is he.

To be perfectly honest (and I kinda hate saying this because I hate to perpetuate certain stereotypes), most of the sexual relationships I've had have been hurtful. I always thought that my partner valued me for more than just a good roll in the hay. He didn't. I thought we were friends and that we were there for each other outside of the bedroom. We weren't and he wasn't. Before I was Singlutionary, I always thought that we were on some kind of road-to-forever which would save me from my sadder self.

I've never had a sex partner who really valued me for who I am, for all my qualities or even took the time to get to know me. They saw me as a thing, a toy, an accessory.

My admirer says getting to know a person is simple and clear when sex is removed from the picture. 

In a way, I think he is right. For me, his admiration has been healing because I always sensed that he was interested in ALL of me. He admires and values me not because he thinks I'm hot (although he does) but because of who I am and what I do with my life and where I am going and what I enjoy and value. He enjoys our small-but-growing friendship. And so do I.

And this all gives me space to continue to be Singlutionary, sex free. For now, at least.

And in the meantime, I can enjoy this friendship, enjoy being myself and enjoy being admired for myself, plain and simple. I like that. I'm not sure I'll like it in another 18 years, or even 18 months, but for now, its perfect.

Singlutionary sex is going to be different for everyone. It depends, in part, on where you've been, where you're going and who you are. I am not advocating for 18 years of abstinence but if 18 years of abstinence makes you a better Singlutionary, I'm all for it.

I Have a Crush (and Wish I Didn't)

Gross. I now have a crush on my admirer. I hate having crushes. It is SO un-Singlutionary. Having a crush, for me at least, is also a feeling of longing . . . of not being present in the moment but longing for some future junction when crush-plus-I can ride off into the sunset together. The last thing I want to do right now is ride off into the sunset and/or be swept off in some tidal wave of love. I am here, I am rooted and I am on solid ground. The last thing I want is some massive upheaval which plays out like a traumatic romantic comedy/action flick. I've had enough upheaval in the past year for six dramas, thank you. I like where I am standing and the path that I am on and the last thing I need is to be ducking into the bushes all the time for a quick makeout session. 

What I really want from my favorite admirer is to be friends.

What I really want is mutual admiration. 

And sex. 

If only I believed that were possible, or right, or just-that-simple to have sex with a friend and not have everything go haywire.

I am going running with my favorite admirer tomorrow morning. Maybe if I run fast enough I'll outrun my sex drive and be able to coast back into simple friendship. 

But, despite my annoyance at finding my admirer physically attractive, I am enjoying having a new friend and good company. 

I keep thinking that I need to address the issue of being single and (wanting to have) sex here on Singlutionary. But the truth is that I just haven't figured it out yet. Lisa over at Onely has addressed it quite eloquently and seems to be living proof that un-relationshiped sex can be a positive experience. 

I, personally, am still in a quandary. 

So while I won't be writing about sex, I will be writing about chickens, eggs, insects and the fact that most urban homestead types are seriously coupled and raising humans as well as livestock. 

Dreaming of Vegetables

I am exhausted and I am craving vegetables. The new job seems to have an endless supply of free candy, soda and coffee which means that my entire diet last week consisted to those three items. Yesterday I crashed hard. Today I feel a little bit better.

Today, the only thing missing in my life is healthy food (and a shower and a clean house). But in my dream last night I dreamed that I was married. My in-laws had this duplex which was really kinda a duplex shack with all sorts of strange walls, etc. I thought we had our own place but when we went to go to bed it turned out that that there was another couple in the same room in another bed. I wasn't really bothered by all this closeness. What I was bothered by was the fact that I like to have sex. I drew the other female aside and tried to work out a deal with her (a la college dorm room style) that we each vacate the room for certain alternate periods to allow the other couple to have sex or we "do it super quiet". 

Ah. My waking life is so different. I woke up in my twin bed by myself. And my first thought was "gosh, I would feel a whole lot better if I ate some vegetables". 

Interestingly enough, my first thought was NOT "I am alone" or "I wish I had a husband" or "I want sex". That wasn't even my 2nd or 3rd thought or ANY thought yet this morning.

Yesterday, an IM suitor (you know, the ones who like to IM you when they get bored at work) left over from the match.com days inquired as to the reasons for my "sex hiatus". He seemed to think that I just hadn't met the right guy lately and all I needed was a dose of his manpowers and I'd give up on my sex hiatus forever. 

Its not that I don't have a sex drive. It IS that I don't want to intimately engage with anyone right now. I am still busy getting to know myself. So engaging with others is incredibly draining. I'd rather spend my energies (and limited free time) cooking or working on the house or swimming. I need to take care of myself and nurture myself right now and do activities which replenish my store of enthusiasm, charge up my passion batteries. And for some reason anytime I get involved with a new person (sexually or not) I end up giving a lot of myself to that new relationship. I think that this is just the nature of any new relationship. 

There will come a time when I am ready to re-engage with others and to enjoy new friendships and spend some time polishing the old ones. But that time hasn't come for me yet. I know this because every time I have tried to "get out there" and make new friends, I come home exhausted at my very core.

I have come to understand that as humans we have our own unique seasons. There are social seasons and then there are seasons of solitude. I suspect that in the past when we didn't have electric lighting and climate control, our internal seasons lined up more with the natural seasons. Winter was a time for solitude and reflection and summer was a time for socializing and connection and sharing. Obviously my seasons are all jacked up because its summer and I just want to be a hermit.

Although I am thriving at the new job which requires constantly meeting and connecting (in a professional manner) with new people. Maybe that is my big relationship for this summer. Who knows what next summer will bring.

Or maybe I am just simply a winter socializer with all the fruitcake and mulled wine and hot chocolate. 

Who knows. But I know enough by now to respect my own internal seasons and not to push myself in exhausting directions when I could be enjoying the comfort that solitude provides. 

And now, for the Cheesy Essay Questions Section:

What about you? What do you think about this concept of internal seasons? What kinds of things make solitude wonderful? What aspects of the social season do you most enjoy? 

True Love

One of my former lovers, Crazy Pot Farmer, is in the hospital with serious head injuries. This is how I found out: His cousin posted a bulletin on myspace asking people to pray for her cousin, Crazy Pot Farmer, who was, at the time, in critical condition (he is now stable although I don't know how extensive his head injuries may be). My sister saw his cousins post and forwarded it to me. So I learned from myspace that someone who I love had a brush with death and may or may not recover. But why do I feel glad to have been informed that Crazy Pot Farmer is in the hospital? How does my knowing his condition help anyone? He hasn't been a part of my life in a long time so what does it really have anything to do with me? Does this even really affect my life? Especially in comparison to the lives of his mother and the rest of his gigantic family who are deeply affected by this on a day to day, moment by moment level?

All of this made me think about relationships and about, well, love. Love is the underlying connector between people. When we talk about love we tend to talk about it in romantic terms or in terms of family. Love, in the context of non-family, non-romantic relationships seems watered down and not the "real thing". People talk about finding their "one true love" as if all the other love in their life was false. Especially when friends and lovers slip out of our lives, the love seems to become null and void, to fade in validity as time goes on. When friendships fade away we talk about the love in past tense: "We used to be friends. I used to love him." 

I would like to argue that we extend and empower our definition of love to include friendships, past and present. Even when there is no longer a practical connection, there is still love. I can love an infinite number of people but I can only keep in contact with a limited few. But that doesn't mean that I love the ones I fell out of touch with any less truly.

If I say, "I still love Crazy Pot Farmer", it sounds as if I am IN LOVE with him in this complicated way and can't move on. But that isn't the case. Crazy Pot Farmer and I had/have an on-again-off-again mutually abrasive friendship where we most of the time enjoyed annoying the crap out of one another. Like many friendships it was casual. We would connect every now and again when life threw us together. 

But the casualness of our relationship doesn't discredit the times we did connect or the lastingness of that connection. Crazy Pot Farmer, while crazy, is also one of my kindred spirits. It is rare to feel as if you really know someone at the core of who they are, to feel as if their soul and your soul walked out of all the things which usually bind us and went swimming together. When this happens craziness and compatibility and lifestyle don't matter because the soul knows nothing of socially acceptable behavior. I was never in love with Crazy Pot Farmer. We were/are friends with occasional benefits but there is still true love there.

The last time I saw him was at his mom's house. I was there visiting and he was there with his girlfriend. We were all swimming. He and I were polite socially but a little aloof (I'm sure he didn't want the girlfriend to know that we used to be lovers) until we bumped into each other in the garage. Nobody else was around and for a moment we exchange a few sentences about the house and a photo on the fridge from the old days. But in that 2.5 minutes we exchanged lifetimes of intimacy and friendship. On the surface our human mouths were moving and words were being exchanged. But underneath all that our souls were doing somersaults on the trampoline. And then we went back out into the real world and our souls went back into hiding. 

Just because Crazy Pot Farmer's soul and my soul are no longer practicing their synchronized swimming routine every week or that our bodies are no longer having sex every now and again doesn't mean that the connection is any less valid. Sex might be in the past tense now but our souls live on. Even if Crazy Pot Farmer's brain doesn't. 

A serious accident like Crazy Pot Farmer's is far more traumatic for the people who are a part of his daily life and who have been a part of his daily life for as long as he has been alive. His mother, for instance, raised him as a single mother from the time she was 15 years old. I am not trying to compare our little soul dance with theirs. I am just trying to say that the love which exists in the nooks and crannies of life isn't any less true than the love people share in broad daylight. 

Its a Man Hailstorm

One of the Onelys suggested to me a while back that I call up match.com and quit for good even though I still had a month to go already paid. But I didn't. And for two or three weeks there was so little activity anyways that it hardly mattered.

Then two unrelated things happened which are totally (and only) related in my brain:

1. I sat next to a hot guy on the airplane. We're not talking about a hot guy in terms of tall dark and handsome. We're not talking about a hot guy in terms of young and buff. We're not even really talking about a guy. We're talking about a MAN. Said Man was not wearing a ring. He was obviously at least 10 years my senior, most likely 15-20 years. He had the body of a man who had played high school football as a teenager, had gotten laid in the back of a american-made vehicle with one of the most popular cheerleaders and he spoke with the warm, comfortable Texas accent which I have grown accustomed to. He is most likely a good person and a big republican, a provider, a protector and a gun owner. For someone, like me, brought up on the West Coast in a city that passed a bill requiring folks to check your gun at the city limits, this type of man is utterly exotic.

Mr. Man must have accidentally lost his ring in the airport bathroom or something because he was pretty quick to bring up his wife and kids that live up in the suburbs (of course). Still, he just dripped of hotness.

After I got off the plane, retrieved my suitcase loaded to the limit with Trader Joes and lined up to wait for my ride, I found myself thinking that I would really like some physical intimacy in my life. That is my only beef with being single. 

And that brings me to:

2. I get home from the airport and match.com is raining idiots. There are a few guys who actually seem to be capable of putting together a profile that actually says something about themselves. There are even a few who don't look like serial killers in their profile picture. But in the past 24 hours I've gotten 20 winks or emails from match.com, two of which are remotely articulate and/or interesting.

I've already been on a date with one of them. A perfectly acceptable lad who is younger than me and randomly used to work with Bosslady (if this world gets any smaller, I am going to start saving up to have my cremated ashes shot out into space). I had fun with the lad but I somewhat doubt that I will be attracted to him. Too young and just not exotic enough. 

There was also a filmmaker Aussie who seemed like a decent guy who winked at me. I winked back. He favorited me. Great. We're at an impasse. I might just give up and ask him to a movie hoping that I could make friends with one filmmaker in this town based on a connection OUTSIDE of the industry. 

I am not sure what the moral of this story is supposed to be except that I seem to be attracted to everyone who isn't me. The tough part about that is that MOST people tend to socialize within their comfort zone with people most like themselves. If I keep seeking out people who are so vastly different from me, how am I ever going to find a social circle which fits together and offers some community?  How am I going to find friends/parters who fit into my life and I into theirs?

Who knows. I am not going to think about that right now. Instead I am going to go drink some emergen-c and make plans for tomorrow. 

Are you attracted to people who are very different from you or very similar? What kinds of differences or similarities do you find yourself drawn to in other folks?

My House and Me: One Less Ounce of Desperation Part 1

I've written about desperate dating but there are two sides to that icky-poo coin. There are the effects of desperate dating and then there are the causes.

Until recently, I never was really able to pinpoint the cause of my own desperation when it came to relationships with men. 

I grew up pretty feminist. My mom never entered me into a beauty pageant and set an example by doing home repair projects on her own. She didn't even take my dad's last name. But at the same time, my parents had pretty traditional gender roles. My dad worked. My mom stayed home and then went to work part-time when I was in school. So while I was taught that men could (and should) cook and do laundry and that women could (and should) work for a living, that was not exactly the environment that I was raised in.

I want to make it clear that I am in no way criticizing this arrangement. That was what worked for them and it wasn't based on gender as much as the fact that my dad had a good stable job and my mom was really good at fixing up houses. My dad loves routine and can deal with the day-to-day monotony of going to the same office for 20 years. My mom loves change and excitement and is a risk taker. If their personalities had been switched, I wouldn't be surprised if their roles would have been switched as well.

So, I never thought that I "needed" a man in the way some of my friends do. I've always been very independent and wanted to learn to do things on my own. I don't need a man to fix my car or take me to dinner or to make my life complete. I don't need a man to show me the way or to protect me or make me feel special. I get validation from multiple sources, from both men and women. I fix my own car, take myself to dinner and I complete me!

But under all my bravado, my whole life, I have thought that I needed to be in a relationship in order to do three things (that I am yet aware of): settle down, have financial security and enjoy life. 

The first of these subconscious assumptions began to crumble two years ago when I bought my house. I was overwhelmed. It needed too much work and I had no time and no money and I didn't have any other friends who were homeowners or a community of do-it-yourselfers to pitch in or give advice. At the same time, I was freaking out because my life pre-homeownership was incredibly mobile. I moved every year. I never had a permanent place. And while I was ready to "settle down" I felt freaked out that it was happening to me. Something just felt off, like I had forgotten to do something important. What was I giving up by settling down? I had that bad feeling you get when you pack for a trip to the tropics and you forgot to pack your bathing suit. Something was amiss. 

In buying the house, I was making a commitment. And it was a commitment that I very much wanted to make. But in the back of my mind somewhere, underneath all my independence and education and self awareness, was this idea that having a house and settling down is something one does WITH a partner. I was overwhelmed by the house because I thought I had to do everything myself. My parents had done everything themselves and only hired people to do work that required permits or expertise beyond their own. But there were two of them. And there is one of me. 

It took me a while to feel OK with paying someone to mow my yard. I mean, shouldn't I be doing that myself? It took me a while to forgive myself for taking three months to paint the living room (which has vaulted ceilings and exposed beams and required borrowing a 9 foot ladder). Why couldn't I get it done in a weekend?

And once I realized that I, on my own, could not replicate the perfection of my parent's do-it-yourself lifestyle, I could find my own balance and my own groove. It wasn't that I was missing something or defective in some way. It wasn't that I should have done things in the proper order and waited to buy as house as a newlywed. What is to guarantee that this imaginary husband is a do-it-yourselfer anyways? A huge part of my parents relationship is based on their houses. I'm not sure that I want my relationship to be based on the house. Or on dogs. Or on travel. 

But for a while, after buying the house, I felt really desperate for a man. I felt like I just couldn't cope with all the responsibilities of the house on my own and secretly I wanted some sexy carpenter/electrician/plumber/contractor/landscaper/HVAC guy to walk into my life, literally sweep me off my feet and carry me over my own threshold. But then I realized all that I would sacrifice if the house belonged to someone else and I depended up on him to do everything the house required. It would no longer be my adventure and I would not have the chance to learn more or to tackle the challenges I had so longed for. And more importantly, I realized this was the ONLY reason I wanted a man in my life so badly. I would just be using this hottie handyman for his, uh, hands *ahem*. And while that makes for a great daydream, it doesn't make for a great relationship.

This was the first of my revelations regarding my subconscious assumptions about what I can and can not do as a single. I had no idea that I had been wah-wah-waiting for someone to settle down, but some part of me was. 

I will write about my more recent experiences with finances and fun next!

Singlutionary Review: Millionaire Matchmaker

I just caught this show which Lisa at Onely has confessed to be a guilty pleasure of hers.  Its on Bravo and its called The Millionaire Matchmaker. Patti is the LA matchmaker. This big-boobed woman is the most in-your-face-tell-it-like-it-is-ain't-afriad-of-nothing woman to come across the small screen in a long time. I love her for being so straight forward, mostly with the men. The men are typically these picky older rich guys who might be good at business but seem to suck at love. And the women she matches them with aren't floosies. They are smart, educated (and beautiful and skinny) women. 

Of course, I think that the premise for the show is totally nuts. I don't think that people will die sad and lonely if they don't get married and have children. And I don't think that beauty in a woman = money in a man. But I find a secret, dirty pleasure in watching Patti lay it out for the men, often telling them things which are typically only told to women: You're too picky, you're getting too old, you need to find love now, what is your problem, love is the only thing that matters, you're going to die alone . . .

She is pushy and bossy and hilarious and some of these guys are single for a REASON. Still, its interesting to see the men being the ones seeking. And its interesting to see how they undermine their desire to find a kindred spirit by pursuing youth and looks and sex appeal even though they have said outright that this isn't what they want. These guys have everything they could ever want in terms of material possessions but they are just as screwed up as anyone else when it comes to relationships. 

I see Patti as a sort-of reverse Singlutionary. She bosses older guys to get over themselves and accept a woman into their lives whereas I encourage people of all ages to pursue a relationship with themselves, first and foremost. 

But there is something I enjoy about this woman and about this show. And its nice to see other people struggle through first dates!! I thought I was the only person who sucked at dating.

Also, in the episode I watched, the guys planned these elaborate, over the top, super expensive dates. Ewwww. I would feel so uncomfortable with such an intense first date. But I'm also not trying to exclusively date LA millionaires, so there you go!

"I'm Glad You're Dating" : BARF. VOMIT. GTH!!

GTH stands for: Go to hell (or heck, if you're one of my more polite/LDS readers)!

I think I've mentioned (complained about) this before but most of my offline-life single friends do not read this blog and if they do, they hate it. They tell me that they can't follow the Singlution because they "want to have fun" or they act like maybe I am a bit too picky and am missing golden opportunities left and right and they kinda feel sorry for me for not "living" more.

(To which my reply is: If sitting around waiting for a immature idiot to call is more fun, great, more power to you. And if I am missing out on all important life experiences by being selective, oh well; I am not missing out on cherishing myself and the folks already in my life nor am I distracted or distraught by unnecessary drama-- been there, done that.)

Last night I returned a friend's call on the way home from the most awesomely hot kiss I have ever gotten from a man (or any person!). This kiss was so tremendous (I thought we were making-out cause it went on for a while but I've since been informed by Bosslady, that making-out necessitates some kind of sexual groping which did not occur) that when it was over I almost passed out right there on the pedestrian bridge. I have not been this turned on by a kiss ever before in my life. And I don't think I have kissed anyone ever before in my life without following it up with humping/dry humping/serious groping/other kind of sexual behavior. 

I was so shaken and shocked and aroused by this kiss that I couldn't even speak afterwards for like five minutes. I tried to act normal and keep my self together but my body was in the throes of some kind of kiss-orgasm.

Anyways, on the way home, I gave my friend a call back and left a voicemail for her telling her what had happened.

She called back to get the details and then she had to get off the phone and I had to go to bed. At the end of the conversation she said "I'm glad you're dating". And something in the way she said it made me want to barf. *I know of course that she had no intention of offending me and doesn't really deserve to be lambasted in my blog but here goes anyways:*

First of all, I am NOT glad that I am dating. I AM glad that I am meeting wonderful men who redeem their gender in my eyes and spirit and soul. I am glad that I got to enjoy this fantastic grope-free kiss on the pedestrian bridge in the moonlight. I am glad that I am making a new friend and having fun and being taken out to dinner and to movies and for drinks (I know, I get a little creeped out by the sexism inherent in dating too but I've decided not take on tradition all on my own at this juncture). I am enjoying practicing non-desperate dating and breaking out my Singlutionary-tude so that I can date with grace and confidence. But I am not glad about dating itself. Dating is a tiring and annoying and very old fashioned and sometimes creepy thing. Is anyone glad to be dating? It seems to me that if you're glad for someone that they are dating what you are really saying is: "I am glad you are at least TRYING to find a romantic partner because you can never truly be happy on your own."

I suppose that if the context were different and I had been single for a long time (like years) after a bad breakup and it was really brave of me to go back out there and try and meet people, the words "I'm glad your dating again" might be encouraging. 

But in this context I just found it annoying.

And, second of all, I never thought of this as dating really. Yes, I go on dates. But to me, this started out as an experiment and it has turned into a good one. I'm pushing back on the world, exploring the world and I am learning what I want. 

I think what it comes down to is my intention. When I set out on this journey my attitude was this: I currently have a very negative perception of men and I would like to change that by meeting men who are good people and responsible human beings. If, through this process I find myself growing and learning so much from one individual that he ends up being a part of my life, that is cool, but it is not necessary.

But the tone with which my friend said "I'm glad you're dating" made me think of dating from a whole other perspective, the one where a sad desperate person is on an endless interview process for a long-term partner: I need to find a romantic partner; I am horny; I am lonely; I can't fix my car cause I'm a girl; I am scared to live on my own; I am not competent enough to manage my own life; I must be emotionally dependent on another person to feel complete and validated. 

Ugh. I am none of these things nor would I encourage anyone to date for any of these reasons.

So her comment irked me. I think I've decided to quit talking to her about being single or dating or dramatic kiss-fests all together. This isn't the first time something she has said has grated on me in this way. 

On the other hand, I recently told my mom about my match.com dates and she was very receptive. As a rule, I have NEVER shared anything about my romantic life with my mom. This wall started to crumble this summer when I found myself depending on her support and perspective during my Jason-the-Bachelor-esque breakup.

Singlutionary's New BFF

So I went and wrote a personals add for a new BFF: Singlutionary's New BFF. Kinda like Paris Hilton's New BFF except that I want: a man, a grown up, someone who likes trees and rocks and nature, has no boobs and might be interested in some physical affection. But the friendship comes first. I am following in the same vein as the blog I wrote about wanting to sleep with the Libertarian. 

Bosslady told me that the BFFs with benefits is what EVERY guy wants. She also told me that struggling to find peers and make new friends is one of those "welcome to adulthood" things. This was further reinforced when I went on CL to do some research and I found very few posts that were written in grade-7-or-above English much less someone I could really be friends with. 

So, I decided to post my own and see what happened.

I've had 10 responses in 5 hours! Most of which are either illiterate or creepy. Almost all of which are HILARIOUS!  I wish I could post some of the responses here but lets just say that one of the incredibly illiterate ones was written by an elementary school teacher who seemed very upset that some folks can't swim when he takes them out on his boat. I was disturbed that this gent is a TEACHER! 

Then there was a guy who wanted to take a hike on an "obscure" trail. Bosslady told me he might kill me and bury my body in the woods. 

The BEST one so far is addressed to: My Lovely Lady Lumps. It waxes on for eight paragraphs about a whole lot of nothing including the lad's former pot-smoking habits concluding that: "As long as you're not some puritanical bud-hater, we'll be fine."

I love Craigslist! This is the best entertainment I've had all week!

Singlution Stuckers

I know that I am a self-professed know-it-all when it comes to being single! But there are a few things which I can't seem to work out. There are some places where, for me, the Singlution still gets stuck!

1. Sex. I can't do it alone. Well, I most definitely CAN do it alone (and I do) but having an orgasm isn't the same as sharing an intimate sexual connection with another person. Orgasms are a dime a dozen but intimate sexual connections seem more and more scarce especially as I get older and more selective about my mates.

2. Dates. I love being single and I am satisfied with my life. So why then am I dating? Dating is alternately annoying/brutal/exhausting and exciting/fun. Basically, I want to meet new people and establish new relationships but I don't want them to take over my life. So should I be dating at all? Or should I just be joining civic leagues and hanging out on meetup.com for plutonic relationships? Am I really just looking for sex but calling it dating?

I'm not sure. All I know is that yesterday's date gave me a big ole flare up of the hornies. And there is a big part of me that wishes the the following scenario were totally socially acceptable in our mainstream culture and uncomplicated both romantically and morally:

I call up the dude from yesterday and I say:

Hey. I would love love love to get to know you better but I also know that I am most likely not what you're looking for. You're looking for a future wife who is most likely less rebellious than me and more family oriented than me and who wants to breed and will get all excited about being preggers and squeezing your baby out of her vagina. That isn't me. But I like you. I think you are a wonderful person with an open mind and a giving spirit and you also have a voice and a vibe that totally turns me on. So I'd like to propose that we respectfully and joyfully share each other's company and bodies for a while until you find that non-rebellious breeder to marry at which point we can bittersweetly go separate ways.

I really wish it were that simple. But since I seem to now be attracted to slightly conservative guys over 30 who work a lot, I just don't see my proposal working out. 

So for now, I'm sticking with my sexless stuck-ness and I'll ride out my dating wave until my membership expires.

Sexual Attraction

I suck at it. 

I went on another date tonight with a perfectly suitable man. He was nice and fun and I felt like I didn't offend him too much with my sense of humor or with my language. He carried the conversation well, was considerate and polite and generally wonderful. And I wasn't attracted to him. Not in the least. He, like the hot doctor, is a "good catch" and a good person and not bad looking to boot. He could be my new friend and we could do stuff together but I do not want to hump him. Not even in the future. I feel this way about all the guys that I've emailed on match.com. 

Which bring me back to this: My original purpose on match.com was to research the kind of person I want in my life and the kind of person I am attracted to (physically and in the law-of-attraction kind of way).

In the law-of-attraction kind of way, I am attracted to sane stable people who are a little bit unusual. 

In the sexual attraction kind of way, I am attracted to idiots and psychos. 

Before I started this blog, I had pretty much exclusively dated idiots, psychos and freeloaders. Now, I can safely say that I have dated nice guys. 

And I know for sure that I am no longer a desperate dater!

But the person I am attracted to most is still myself. I just haven't met anyone who I a) want to hump and b) is a tiny bit awesome-er than me. 

Either I am totally self involved to the point of becoming a psycho idiot myself OR I am finally living my real life and loving it! And I don't need anyone to lead the way or pay the bills or even to bump nasties with. 

*Its just so hard to be co-dependent when you're as competent as I am!*

Dating Just Makes Me Horny

Who knew that dating would further thrust open the doors of sexual desire for me. Not that I'm giving up my vow of taking-it-slow-like-a-mormon-in-middle-school but the past week has been a further reminder that my libido isn't hiding from the Singlution. 

I've been on match.com for about a week now and I've pretty much played it out. In other words, I'm still a satisfied Singlutionary. Its been an adventure though. In one week I winked at four guys, corresponded with five guys, went on a real life date with one guy and deleted a bunch of douche nozzles who want a hot sidekick or sugar mama. I pretty much deleted anyone who I wasn't interested in or who seemed too young or not my type or not interested in the same stuff or too much of a partier or had really obnoxious pictures of him half naked on his profile. 

The date was good. I'll blog about it later. And there are maybe two other guys who still have a fighting chance. 

But this whole thing isn't about the guys! Its about the adventure and what I am learning about myself. And I am still learning a lot. I want to blog blog blog all about it but I have to actually WORK too this week so I'll catch up later!

Do not worry. The Singlutionary will always (not) kiss and tell. 

Monday Makeout: Sunday Singlution

I have learned to much about myself in the past week! A week ago right now I was 100% comfortable with being single. I wasn't even interested in thinking about a relationship or anything close to it. I didn't crave sex or miss cuddling. I didn't feel starved for affection. I was on my own little singlutionary way.

And then on Monday, I madeout.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhh. And my body, which has been on the back burner for about nine months came into the forefront full throttle.

So. Now I am a single woman who wants to be single but who also wants some intimacy.

I don't crave it. I don't need it. This is not something that I can't live without. It doesn't distract me all day long. I am not addicted.

But I do want it in a kinda happy sing-song-y xmas-is-coming kind of way. And figuring out how to navigate the world of affection and intimacy and kissing and sex (or, in my case, abstinence) is what my next few posts are gonna be about.