Single Women and Single Men

Did I ever tell you I work in a library now? After I quit teaching, I switched gears a little and now I'm in a library. It's pretty great, even if middle aged men call me honey a little too often and I hadn't realized how attached baby boomers are to Internet Explorer. 

Working in a library has been cool for finding new books, though, that is for sure. (Like the Love Birds book.) I found a couple books recently that I thought you all might appreciate. 

The first is Are You My Boyfriend? by C.B. Bryza. It's an adorable and relevant parody of Are You My Mother? and it's fantastic. I liked it, even though --spoiler alert-- it gets a little sappy at the end. Considering how often we talk about "is this a date?" around here, I had to read it. The single main character wanders around, posing the title question to all the men she encounters. 

Picture books for grown ups. Yes please. 

The second book is Haiku for the Single Girl by Beth Griffenhagen. I cried laughing. I would like to tell you about my favorite but I had at least a dozen. Just read it. I assure you, you'll find your spirit haiku. 

I've been pondering these books for a few days. (I'll admit that like, 10% of it is why can't I accomplish something kickass like that?) This pondering is not about the trials and tribulations attached to singledom. I consider that plenty, thanks. 

Friends send me all kinds of self-help relationship books**, websites and blogs, and personal anecdotes, so I am positive that women struggle to find a decent, available, adult man.  (Women who are seeking men, that is. I I haven't heard much from women looking for a decent, available, adult woman, so I won't speak to that here.) We rant about it with our friends, joke about it on sitcoms, cry about it in the shower, drink about it at family gatherings...single women looking for love is an industry. Look at the books I checked out from the library. Sure, there are plenty of women who are content being single, and plenty who enjoy casual dating without the dreaded emotions that come along with relationships. But some women are seriously unhappy with their search for Mr. Tolerable. 

So fine. There are sad, lonely women out there, waiting for the romantic comedy portion of their lives to come to a conclusion. I get it. We all get it. So...what about the dudes? I have fewer male followers on twitter and facebook, and fewer male blog commenters, so I assume fewer male readers. And I suppose that makes sense...it probably has a no boys allowed clubhouse feel around here sometimes, since I do so often complain about men. (STOP ACTING FOOLISH AND I WILL STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME.) But let's be real--men are single too. At least, I'm guessing some of you are still single, even though I only seem to meet the married ones. Yet we seldom hear about your quest for love. 

Are you not miserable in your search? Is it easier for you to find decent women? Are you suffering in silence or not suffering at all? Are you consuming books and movies and sitcom moments where men commiserate and wish for nice women to come along but keeping them from us? TELL ME. Because I don't come across a lot of books for men trying to be better at relationships. I don't get many letters from men asking why women are so confusing. Am I truly supposed to believe that for every miserable woman trying to get a nice man to ask her to dinner, there is a contented bachelor hoping he can sneak out of her apartment before she wakes up, as television and movies have shown? 

I want answers. 

**I have an alarming number of self-help relationship books, guys. AND I LOVE THEM.

Learning my "love type"...

When I discovered Lovebirds by Trevor Silvester at work, I knew I had to read it. Written by a couples therapist/bird watcher, it promised to identify my love type from a set of birds--AND how to live with me. I mean, come on. I NEED to know my lovebird. Need. Must know. I didn't even know that "love types" were a thing. 

And so I shamelessly checked it out from the local library. Yes, people I know at the checkout desk, I AM reading self-help relationship books. FOR RESEARCH AND SCIENCE AND STUFF. 

We got off on the wrong foot when Silvester states, on the first page of the introduction, that I'm not so much living a life as a slow, painful pre-death coma. 
"If you live in a supportive, loving state of intimacy you live longer, healthier, happier, and more successful lives." How dare you, sir. 

Things improved a bit on page 13 where the author says the first stages of a relationship actually make you a little crazy, since your body is going insane with love chemicals*. (See? SCIENCE.) So he basically says people in love are nuts, which I can totally see. It's something I've been saying for years. 

I took the quizzes to learn my lovebird, which I'm a little disappointed to report feels a bit Myers-Briggs-esque. Not because I'm against the Myers-Briggs, or because it was poorly done, but because I was hoping for more straight up bird behavior comparisons. ("Peacocks look gorgeous but if you approach them too quickly at the zoo they'll go apeshit and make scary noises until you run away. Sound familiar?") I wasn't disappointed enough to stop reading the book though. I told you, I had to know my lovebird. 

The good news is that my prediction was wrong--I'm not a crow. (Loud, obnoxious, and who really wants them hanging around for very long?)

I'm an Owl/Dove. (Owl is my first one, but Dove was two points behind, in which case the author recommends reading both profiles. Here's a cool fun fact: I'm a rare bird. No, really. Apparently I'm not a common combination? LIKE YOU DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW THAT. 

So, I'm an Owl/Dove. I didn't even have to read the profiles to know that makes sense. Think about it. Owls are a symbol of wisdom and they have an outstanding Resting Bitch Face. Doves are symbols of peace who are forced to attend a lot of weddings and flee the scene as soon as they're allowed. Sound like anyone you know? 

(I actually thought the profiles for my types were pretty on point. Particularly the Owl part. In particular...
"Owls spend a lot of time talking to themselves." Accurate.
And the best possible analysis. "And then there's the foreign world of emotions." 
Additionally, Doves need puppies. "A lack of physical contact will leave them feeling lonely and they'll often have a pet to provide a source of affection." The author is telling me to adopt a pack of dogs. You're getting that vibe too, right? Trevor Silvester, I was a little skeptical, but it is clear that you get me.)

The cool part about reading this book if you're single is that a good portion of it is dedicated to how to handle relationships for every bird combination. Since I'm perpetually alone, I skipped this part and finished the book in like 45 minutes. New record! 

If you're curious, you can take the lovebirds quiz--let me know what you get! 

*Technical term. 

Alone at a Wedding

I've never planned a wedding. Well...actually I have. What I mean to say is that I've never paid for a wedding. But even without that hands on experience, I am certain that getting married is expensive.

For this reason, and for the sake of not having a bunch of randoms at "the most special day" of your life, I'm not offended when I don't get to bring a date to your wedding. (I'm assuming you don't give me a +1 because you're trying to save money, right? It's not because you don't think I could find a date? Because trust me, I could find a date if I had to. I totally could. I could find like ten dates.)

Wait, what were we talking about--oh right. I totally don't mind being invited by myself to a wedding.

But...

You knew there was a "but..." right?

But sometimes a date would be awesome. For example, at a family wedding. Unless you're really close to your cousins who will also be attending, family weddings can get really boring, really fast. It's not like you can flirt with anyone there, either, unless you're 100% positive you're not related to them. 
Or a wedding where you don't know a lot of people. Sure, you and the groom are really good friends,but you guys don't hang out with anyone else from the office fantasy football league where you met. It's not like you'll know anyone else at the wedding. Who will you talk to and judge people with? 
Or, you know, the most common one lately, weddings without many single people. This keeps happening. It's simple, really. The more weddings we attend, the more of our friends are married. People couple up. They don't need to find a date. They have a date. Permanently. Legally. But not everyone! Some of us are in this for the long haul, vying to win Survivor: Forever Alone. (AND I. WILL. WIN.) Now I'm not saying I want your wedding to be a speed dating event, but let's be real--the DJ will play slow music and all the couples will dance. At weddings back when lots of us were single, this was a good opportunity to find a cute boy and flirt with him on the dance floor. But as the crowd slowly evolves into a more married, coupled sort of group...who the hell do I dance with? The answer is I don't. I either sit at the table and hope your weird uncle doesn't come ask why I'm not dancing, or I escape to the bar and make poor choices, or I go to the bathroom just for something to do, or I sit there and send rude snapchats of happy couples dancing and snark on them on twitter. And while some of those are fun, it's a little...boring. A low point at your wedding. If you're not going to invite some other singles (preferably handsome, eligible men...just saying) you're kind of making me the 101st wheel. And it's kind of a bummer.

I'm not saying giving me a date is mandatory. But if you're dooming a wedding guest to an evening of solo activity, consider throwing them a bone and putting +1 on their invitation. Or, you know, make sure at least one of your groomsmen is single and handsome. I'll personally settle for that.




**I KNOW I KNOW you have to worry about how many people the church will seat and the reception hall capacity and the cost per plate of food and I GET IT OK you don't have to remind me. It's just a thought. 

A Valentine's Day Truce

A Public Service Announcement, on the eve of Valentine's Day: 

You're happy. You're in a relationship. Fine. I won't stand in your way. (Unless you're trying to make out in front of me in the line at Starbucks. I will probably do my best to make that uncomfortable for you. But I would do that on any day--that behavior is not exclusive to Valentine's Day.) I know you'll instagram the bouquet of flowers that are delivered to your office and you'll make a disgusting status update on facebook to make sure the world knows you're in love. I know. And that's fine. You do you. Yolo or whatever. (But really, please don't make out in front of me. Or anyone. Take that home.) 

But please, please, please--when you encounter someone single tomorrow, don't tell them you're sure they'll find The One. I don't know how many times I've heard that from a couple who was wrapped around each other, about to go have thanks for the generic diamond necklace sex, making me wish for a dragon attack or anything, anything to get me out of the conversation. It's so patronizing. Here's the secret about single people, that maybe you've forgotten since you aren't single anymore: 

We know. We know that we're single. It's not a secret. We've done the bouquet/garter toss at weddings when you pushed us onto the dance floor. We've answered the questions from our relatives. We've dutifully nodded through your suggestions of internet dating, speed dating, and that nice young woman in your apartment building. WE KNOW WE'RE SINGLE. And some of us don't care. Some of us don't want The One. Some of us don't necessarily believe in that, and don't care about it. Some of us just want to hang out with our friends and we're happy that way. Some of us want more than one. Some of us don't want to get any more serious than exchanging snapchat names. But some of us want that.* Some of us are actively out there looking for The One and it hasn't worked. Because it's hard. So when you tell us that our turn is coming, it's really shitty. It is in no way reassuring. 

So let's make a deal, couples. When you're celebrating this weekend, do your thing. But I'm going to do my thing too--and my thing is being alone, disliking this holiday, and waiting for the price of chocolate to be reduced drastically. I'll refrain from making fart noises and loudly discussing STIs** if you keep your PDA at a respectable distance from other people. Think you can manage that? 

*Don't worry, I'm not including myself in that group. Gross.
**Again, unless you're being gross in front of me, or in my way. Then you can expect me to be on the phone asking if someone else has a mysterious rash, too. You've been warned. 

PS--Keep an eye on my facebook and twitter, for a little Valentine treat later today.