What is Wrong with Being Single?

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I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’ve been single for three years. And the truth is that I’m happy about that. I just came to that epiphany today while I was doing my dishes, alone in my apartment with the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack playing on my stereo in the background. I don’t want to be single forever, but I am comfortable being single right now, and want to stop feeling anxious about my single status.

Sanctuary

I’m comfortably in a rut, as my friends would probably describe it, going to work during the week and spending my weekend alone writing, and reading to my heart’s content. I really like the way I live. My apartment is uniquely my own, and a sanctuary to me, filled with the things I love.

Everything is in it’s place, and I know where everything is. It’s not organized to the point of obsession, and I need to learn to put things away immediately after I used them, but I’m happy. I clean when I like, and leave things a mess when I like. If I had a girlfriend, all that would change, and I admit that bothers me.

I cook for one, which means I make a side dish rather than a meal, or get something from take out. In fact, I think I’ve lost all of my cooking skills in the past few years. I grew up as the oldest girl in a family of eight, and I used to come home from school, prepare the family meal, set the table, and clean up while everyone else trooped into the living room to watch TV. I’m sure my resentment of that responsibility has contributed to my cooking patterns now. But the fact remains that I once could cook a Thanksgiving dinner, and now when face with a simple meal, I’m at a loss. And I don’t mind that at all.

My Family Background

I think the reason I value my time alone so much, that I fiercely guard it, is because I grew up in a house where I was never alone. I shared a room with my little sister and a house with four brothers. There was noise all the time, everywhere.

I learned really bad communications skills that I still need to work to undo: the sense that no one was listening to me gave me the habit of repeating myself over and over, as well as the habit of interrupting and speaking louder when trying to make a point. I’ve lost some of those habits from living in the real world, but I still fall back on them at times.

I had no privacy growing up unless I was in the bathroom, and that only lasted until someone started pounding on the door to get in. Now, I love nothing more than lighting candles all around my apartment and sitting in relative quiet with my thoughts, especially after I’ve interacted all week with people at work.

All My Coupled Friends

Up until this point, I’ve been fearing there’s something wrong with me for not pursuing a relationship strenuously, for not making it a priority in my life. And my friends have certainly reinforced my fears.

My friend P., who has known me for about six years, I think, was grilling me on this subject in the bar a few months ago. She had just broken up with her girlfriend of many years, and confessed to me that the two of them had been analyzing me in their spare time, trying to figure out why I was single. "You’re attractive, humorous and you have a decent personality…"

Of course, this analysis immediately made me self-conscious, and rather than defending my comfortable lifestyle, I immediately focused on the word "decent," questioning whether she was suggesting there was something wrong with my personality, and suddenly filling with a self-doubt that I never feel when I’m alone; only with my friends.

It doesn’t help that I made a ton of new friends this past summer, who at that time were single, but quickly paired up when winter came. I used to get phone calls to run around and do something every day. Now I’m lucky if I see my friends once a week. And when I do, the awkwardness of the triad is always the elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about.

I’ve become a single burden to my coupled friends, and as a result, they either avoid spending time with me, or try endlessly to set me up with someone else. In fact, the last relationship I was in three-years ago was with a woman my friend P. set me up with. And I’ve been tricked into every conceivable setup situation since, so that I’m suspicious whenever someone’s single friends are around.

Continue ReadingWhat is Wrong with Being Single?

So Why Aren’t You Married Yet?

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Quick Comebacks to that ever annoying Question…

I already have enough LAUNDRY to do, thank you.

Because I think it would take all the spontaneity out of dating.

It gives my mother something to live for.

It didn’t seem worth a blood test.

I was hoping to do something meaningful with my life.

What? And spoil my great sex life?

Nobody would believe me in white.

Because I just love hearing this question.

(Bonus reply for Single Mothers) Because having a husband and a child would be redundant.

Do you know how hard it is to get TWO tickets to Miss Saigon?

My co-op board doesn’t allow spouses. (A New York Special)

I guess it just goes to prove that you can’t trust those voodoo doll rituals.

I wouldn’t want my parents to drop dead from sheer happiness.

Continue ReadingSo Why Aren’t You Married Yet?

Selected Sonnets

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William Shakespeare
From the Book: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare [UNABRIDGED]

Sonnet 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d,
But they eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade
When in enternal lines to time thou growest;
     So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 23

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O’ercharged with burthen of my own love’s might.
O let my books be then, the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast;
Who plead for love, and look for recompense
More than that tongue that hath more express’d.
     O learn to read what silent love hath writ:
     To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

Sonnet 26

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written embassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit.
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it;
But that I hope some good conceit of thine
In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will bestow it:
Till whatsoever star that guides by moving,
points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tatter’d loving,
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:
     Then may I dare not to boast how I do love thee,
     Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.

Sonnet 46

Mine eye and heart are at mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of they sight;
Mine eye my heart they picture’s sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freadom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
(A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes,)
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him they fair appearance lies.
To ‘cide this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye’s moiety, and the dear heart’s part
     As thus, mine eye’s due is thine outward part,
     And my heart’s right thine inward love of heart

Sonnet 57

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end-hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
Save, where you are how happy you make those;
     So true a fool is love, that in your will
     (Though you do anything) he thinks no ill.

Sonnet 78

So oft I have invok’d thee for my muse,
And found such fair assistance in my verse,
As every alien pen hath got my use,
And under thee their poesy disperse.
Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
Have added feather’s to the learned’s wing,
And given grace a double majesty.
Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
Whose influence is thine and borne of thee:
In others’ works thou dost but mend the style,
And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
     But thou are all my art, and dost advance
     As high as learning my rude ignorance.

Continue ReadingSelected Sonnets