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!!!

Singlutionary's Bath

Today is Wednesday and according to my new posting schedule, today's post should be part of the Singlutionary's House series. But in celebration of cutting myself some slack and wanting to catch up on my blog roll before it rolls off the face of the earth, I'm not going to do that.

Instead I'm merely going to tell a story. Not about remodeling or any kind of home improvement related metaphor regarding my bath, but literally about bathing in my bathroom.

I moved into the master bedroom in my house last week but tonight is the first time I took advantage of having my very own shower. I'd been reluctantly using the toilet in the master bedroom while still preferring the hall potty which had been my own personal throne for the past year and a half. And for the past week and a half I've been rejecting my private shower and going all the way upstairs to bathe.

Why? Blood, sweat, tears and multiple coats of eco-friendly paint have gone into both the upstairs bathroom and the hall bath. Over the past 2.5 years I have truly made them mine. So while the master bath has a window (the others do not) the other bathrooms are a window into my soul.

I just compared a bathroom to my soul. But seriously, I spent over an hour picking out the water saving shower head. And DAYS painting and decorating.

Anyways.

Tonight I finally decided it was time for me to grow up and use my own bathroom. I've been forcing myself to break my habits and use the master bathroom toilet. Tonight I took it a step further and moved into the shower. No, I didn't make a bed in the bathtub. I went upstairs and gathered up my soap and shampoo and other scrubbie things and brought it all downstairs. And then I did something I've never done before: I took a shower in the master bathroom.

And it wasn't as scary as I thought. I spent a bunch of time trying to find some temporary cover for that window because it was freaking me out but I finally gave up. I turned on both lights and left the door to the bedroom open so I wouldn't feel so trapped.

It turns out that it is nice and bright and clean in there and not creepy at all. I can spread out my bottles of various products without concern for other people's things. The shower head may not be a window into my soul, but it is quite adequate with different settings for water velocity. But the best part is that once I was done with my shower I was able to reach out and grab my towel from the hook without having to contort my body into any weird positions.

And then I was able to finish getting ready for bed all in the SAME ROOM. I didn't have to then dry myself off, run downstairs, go into the hall bathroom to moisturize and then go into my room to get dressed. Everything was RIGHT there. I have a new appreciation for the layout of my house now. This master bedroom setup is really very convenient.

Usually at about this juncture in a post I would find a way to tie this whole story together into some sort of parable about being single. But not tonight.

I realize that I am working full time while looking for a full time job, trying to find a renter and running around town collecting the dregs out of all my bank accounts in an attempt to pay the bills before they're late.

Fortunately, I've started earning money again, got a mini promotion at my temp job-- which boosted my self esteem after being fired from my last job for being "rude and disrespectful" and having an "impatient personality"--, will be paid in a week, have two job interviews this week and one for next week and am generally in good spirits.

So. The moral of this story is this: Master bathrooms are awesome.

And so is working for a living. It is truly underrated.

Oh and Kahnee over at Single and Blessed posted about my Singlutionary's House series and posted her own house to-do list this week:

http://conb1977.blogspot.com/2010/01/color-me-copy-cat.html

Singlutionary's Guide to Letting Yourself Off the Hook

For the New Year I came up with a schedule and a plan to manage my time better so that I could post more often! After one week and one day, I realize that it is time for a revision!

So Tuesdays will continue to be Singlutionary's Guide to Whatever day. But some Tuesdays I am going to let myself off the hook and merely post the topic for the NEXT week.

So. Next Tuesday I'll post Singlutionary's Guide to Finding Badass Roommates, Part 1: Renting out a Room.

To be followed on another Tuesday this month by: Part 2: Renting a Sweet Pad in a Peaceful House.

Today I am letting myself off the hook. There isn't one good reason that I should do this. There are lots of small reasons and I'll list them here:

Yesterday I was surprised by a phone call from someone investigating my ex and I had to deal with that situation and rehash that whole shitstorm. Of course, when the shitstorm was over, I had risen from the asses (ashes) as The Singlutionary, so on some level I have to be grateful for the experience but I still felt shaken, remembering how I was ready to commit the rest of my life to this psychotic neurotic liar.

I am flat broke which is putting me on an awesome diet where I have to eat all the healthy stuff in my cabinets that I have been avoiding eating for the past year.

All my roommates are moving or have moved out and I don't have any new renters yet (but I know that I will-- I always do). But change is good.

I've had one job interview so far with a woman that I liked at a property that was OK but I know that I do not want the job and I suspect that it will not be offered to me.

I've been working a regular work week this week doing temp work. I call depressed people and interview them to see if they qualify to be in a research study. Most of them fail to qualify. This job makes me so grateful for every little thing in my life and for being able to be happy and being able to see through the fog when I am not.

One of my former roommates has declared bankruptcy.

Last night there were Possums under my chicken coop. Fortunately my new room is at the back of the house near the chickens so I'll be able to hear if anything goes wrong tonight. But I hope that by the time I hear the squawking, I'm not too late!

It is already 10pm and I still need to read my blog roll!

Maggots, Money and Magic

This morning I got up late but refreshed. The weather here is suddenly cool and has been rainy for a couple weeks. I was finally able to turn off the AC and just let the house sit here, uncooled and unheated. 

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. And while I was sitting there, I noticed a maggot trying to find someplace to live/eat/breathe in the baseboard.

Usually when there is one maggot, there is a whole family of them, writhing across some otherwise clean surface trying to find a new home. I am not ashamed to admit that this is my 3rd experience with a maggot migration. The first was over a year ago in my kitchen. It happened while I was cleaning (I run a fairly tight ship in terms of cleaning so I see the maggots as a sign that I live in harmony with nature not that I am a lousy housekeeper). The second was at Bosslady's where they blended in almost perfectly with the tile. I spent a full 60 minutes spotting and chasing down maggots with a dustpan and then dumping their small writhing remains off her deck.

There a lot of things which fail to disgust me: poo, pee, jiz, blood and bugs. But maggots, barf and worms freak me out at least a little bit. Barf especially. 

Anyways, since I'm not squeamish about spiders or roaches or insects in general, I am typically the level headed person who removes them. To put it in archaic cultural terms: I am the man in the family. So today, as I calmly (but with slight disgust) tracked down and swept up little maggots as they made their mad-dash to someplace, it didn't even occur to me that I was doing this alone. And, once I had collected all the maggots, I proceeded directly outside where I fed them to the chickens. This caused great delight amongst the foul and I was particularly pleased with myself for turning maggots into marmalade.

There is something to be said about HAVING to do things. At my job, I interact with a lot of people who don't have to work, don't have to clean and don't really have to do much with their lives. More often than not, these folks are walking disasters. If I didn't have to wrangle maggots, I most certainly wouldn't. If I didn't have to clean the occasional dog barf from the floor (nearly causing me to barf in the process), I wouldn't do that either. Last time my house was invaded by maggots, I was horrified, disgusted and thoroughly freaked out. I felt that there was something wrong with my entire life because a) I had maggots and b) I had nobody to help me with them. 

If I had money I could at least, theoretically, hire somebody else to deal with the maggots although by the time any hired maggot eliminator arrived, the maggots would have found themselves a nice warm place to feed and breed. 

For a long long time I had an escape fantasy that some hot rich white dude in a porsche would ride into my life and we would tear off into the sunset burning fossil fuels as if there was no tomorrow. (For some reason, in this fantasy, the guy was never as douchey as I just made him sound). Then I read this book which I can't remember the title or the author of but it was about how to be a successful (and typically single) business woman and the things which typically hold women back. One thing the author mentioned was that most women have an escape fantasy about money - - especially when you're a risk taker who is constantly putting all her money, soul and guts on the line to build her own business. My escape fantasy has always been some variation on the classical prince charming. 

Of course prince charming never had to deal with lowly things like maggots and menstrual cramps. 

Lately I've been struggling to pay off a credit card which charges me 30% interest. Ugh. I have a ton of debt and it all came from putting my heart and soul on the line to pursue my dreams. I don't regret a cent of it. And now that I have a (somewhat) good job, I am able to make steady payments. But the debt doesn't disappear overnight. 

Many people have encouraged me to just ask my parents for the money to pay off this credit card and then I can pay them back at 15% but I was too proud to do it. Yesterday, against my better judgement, I emailed my parents asking if I could postpone some debts that I have to them in order to take care of this card. I got a lecture! It was humiliating. I should never have asked. 

But before I got the lecture, I went to the grocery store to spend my last $30 in the world. And that is when I realized:

It is the limits that make life interesting and make us who we are. My life is not limited in such a way that it is impossible for me to grow or live or thrive. I am not impoverished nor am I uneducated (despite the fact that my education seems to be pretty meaningless when it comes to my salary). And so far in life, I have done a pretty good job of rescuing myself. 

I've paid off credit card debt before. And the times when I had the least money were the times where I had to be most creative. In our culture we have this concept of the "starving artist". I have chosen to reject that notion. I believe that I can live a creative life and (eventually) become self employed doing creative things without having to be destitute and dysfunctional. I don't see pursing my creative endeavors and having money as being mutually exclusive. 

But as I have slimmed my life down past the point that I thought it could be slimmed, I've gotten better at certain things. I've gotten better at maintaing relationships, at writing, at being organized about pursing my goals. Life suddenly seems more simple.

Which makes me wonder: is the artist starving because she is an artist or is the artist an artist because she is starving? I think it might be a little of both.

Having no spending money takes away the distractions. I can't simply be entertained nor can I simply be fed. I have to take the time to nurture myself, think for myself, entertain myself and find creative ways to give and be gracious to others. I have to find alternative ways to build a chicken coop and to feed my chickens. 

The last time I paid off massive credit card debt I wasn't being charged 30% interest. But it still was a miracle. Back then I had a car payment and a long commute and many other obstacles. I worked hard but still, the amount of money I paid off compared to my income and my expenses was just short of miraculous. 

I will get out of debt again. And the road won't be void of pleasure. I won't be zooming through it in Prince Charming's Porsche and I might step in some poo and be chased by maggots. But when I arrive at the castle, it will be all mine and I'll know enough to be grateful for it. And my chickens can roost in the towers while the dog herds sheep out in the pastures. 

And then I'll buy a hybrid and a ranch in west Texas. And I'll be off again on a new journey.

*This post was inspired, in part, by my Cockatiel friend who has always found a way to live her dreams and has never once accepted anything short of being her (delightfully tall) self but who still wouldn't mind having a date to the ball or a Mr. Art Deco on her arm (just as long as she doesn't have to get married to him and produce his offspring).

It turns out that I do have single friends who read this blog after all.

Teapot Gets Cockblocked (and other frustrations)

A week or so ago I wrote about my new admirer, the Teapot. Well, today Teapot called the office to make sure I had gotten the insurance info that I needed from him (but he was actually delighted to have an excuse to talk to me). And my boss totally knew Teapot wanted to talk to me so he stood there dramatically chatting away even after I returned to my desk and sat there staring at him. Teapot is leaving for two weeks to some other country for work so he won't have another excuse to call me for a while. 

Yesterday, I was in a meeting when Abstinent Admirer came in with two very long florescent light bulbs. He and my boss played Star Wars until the Maintenance supervisor broke it up. I was suck in a glass bubble and could only look out at them. By the time I was released from the bubble, Abstinent Admirer was gone. 

I got paid today. Which is usually a nice thing. Except I have so much credit card debt that I sit around for two weeks waiting to get paid, then get paid, then make an as-giant-as-possible payment to my highest rate credit card. Thirty minutes after I get paid, I am back sitting around waiting to get paid again. 

The only thing that breaks up the monotony is my admirers (who are funny and interesting) and the dogs that live on the property (who are all small and hungry).

I promise to post something more funny and interesting (instead of small and hungry) tomorrow. 

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!

On the Outs with Going Out

I hate going out. First of all, while I live in my fabulous city, I live 20 minutes from downtown so going out for me is no longer a walk down the street. Second of all, I'm not into being drunk or drunk people. Third of all, I'd prefer to save money to do something practical like buy plants.

Sometimes I feel like I SHOULD go out more because that is what single people do. Single people go out. Young people go out. So if I'm young and single I should be going out every night or at least once a week, right? If I don't I'm either boring or a premature-old-fart. 

But I am totally satisfied with spending my extra evening time at home with my dog watching a movie or TV or reading or blogging. In other words, I'd rather participate in this online community for free than go downtown to spend a bunch of money to be in the presence of idiots.

I don't know if this is merely a phase which will pass in time or if I'm just naturally a homebody. But it seems that I can't win. I am the least boring person I know but at the same time any single person who doesn't go out on a regular basis is judged as being boring by all the "fun loving" singles. 

So, if you're enjoying your Friday night at home (or any other day of the week for that matter), here is a quick list of some of my favorite recent posts by other bloggers which you may find entertaining:

A Story About An Awful Date by Welsh Girl

A Short Film About Chasing Boys from Hooking Up Smart

Sweet Solitude's Entire Blog: This woman has mastered solo living

A Onely post on a topic quite similar to this one

A Book Review on What Would Carrie Wear?

Bella DePaulo's Book (Which I just purchased by haven't yet read) and Blog

Thegoodbyedress cracks me up too. Read each short little blog. Its fun.

And I just want to say that there is nothing wrong with going out! I think its a perfectly acceptable thing to do. I am just advocating for staying in being a perfectly acceptable and COOL way to spend my time. Even if I am young. Even if I am single.

My Match is My Mirror

I am having so much fun on match.com. There are so many men that I never feel lonely or rejected. At the same time, there are lots of guys that I reject. Sometimes I reject a guy just because of the way he looks in his pictures. Is that shallow? Maybe but I'd like to think that I have a keen sense of people and the kind of pictures folks put up on their profile says a lot about them. 

There are two things that were bugging me when I first started this process: I wanted a man who made a lot of money and who was "athletic/toned". Of course, I do not make a lot of money (right now) and I am not very toned (right now). It kinda bothered me that I was putting these two items on my man wishlist when I currently do not possess either of these qualifications. These two items also seem extremely shallow to me: money and a hot bod. I mean, its nice but is it really important in a soulmate.

So then, a couple days ago, as I was driving out to bosslady's house, I had a revelation:

I want to have a lot of money. I want to have a hot bod.

And that made me realize this: My whole life I've been seeking the qualities I lack (or think I lack) in my mate. And since there are lots of things I suck at, there was always some guy who I was into merely because he was good at something I am not. Here are some examples:

The journalist. I thought this guy was cool because he had his own magazine. I've always wanted to be a writer and tell my story to the world (hence, this blog). The journalist was also very sloppy, broke, close to being arrested, a pushy pot salesman and a bike stealer. He also hooked up with other women he met on craigslist. (I am not saying that its not OK to do this if that is what you're into but I don't want to sleep with you if you do). 

The landlord. He owned a house and rented out the upstairs and lived downstairs. I have always wanted to do that (and now I kinda do). Fortunately, he was also a nice, generous, respectful guy. But what I loved about him at first was his house. 

The abs. This guy lived at home with his parents because he had so much debt after dropping out of the military. But he was fit. At the time my main obsession was getting fit so it followed that I had a major crush on this guy's abs. Unfortunately (or fortunately), he was a flirt but never intended to ask me out. So this crush lasted several months but nothing came of it. 

Anyways. The moral of this Singlutionary tale is this: 

If you are looking for a partner to make up for all your failings and to fill in the parts about yourself that you don't like, you're at a risk for being a desperate dater. The Singlution solution is to review the things you want in a partner and ask yourself if you really just want them in YOU. If that is the case, spend your single time working on those things: for me, it would be plugging away at my endeavors until I can start squeezing some money out of them and working out ever day again. I have the time and space to do this now because I am single. 

In the meantime I (with my empty bank account and extra tummy) am going to be open to dating guys on match.com but when I meet the rich ones with the hot bods I will see them as my match, not as my savior from myself.