dating and singlehood · random robin · womens issues

single talk

I know it was meant as a compliment and I did take it as such, more or less, but I was asked to consider doing a talk on being single. After LOL-ing, I said, if you mean a talk on staying single, then I’m your girl.

But it was nice to know that someone who I respect thinks that I’m someone who could pull off a talk on how to be a “good” single. I mean, I’m not the one who complains about it every chance I get, or sobs at weddings because they are never mine.  I don’t sit around and pout but I also dont actively seek out opportunities to date. There are people who would like to try to convince me otherwise, but I just can’t get into dating websites and singles groups and getting set up by well intentioned friends. homie dont play that.

wow that was out of the junk drawer.

Anyway, though I probably seem like a really well balanced single 30-something, and I stay fairly busy and active and accomplish some things here and there, I have my moments like anyone else. I do pout and I do eat an entire carton of Ben and Jerrys and I do all the stereotypical “men are pigs” routine with the best of them. But I think I am funnier than your average “men are pigs” presenters and would like to believe i would get at least 3 and 3-quarter stars .  I have my moments of self-pity mixed with self-doubt mixed with self-alcohol and I start down the whiny path of “no one will ever love me” and “i suck at life” and “if only i were prettier/ taller/ thinner/ smarter/ faster/ stronger/ a tall building leaperer.”

But I always do this in the relative private of my home, usually my bathroom, although there is the occasional friend’s home and/or bathroom. And the truth is when someone with an actual shot comes along, I run the other way screaming.

Now before I go and sound all pompous, the point is not that I think I’m all that and a bag of 50% less salt chips, but more that I have lived long enough and dated enough and ruined enough lives to know almost very nearly exactly what I want and what (er, who) wants me. Probably this is my very best advice – know thyself. I know I know, really original and profound.

I find personality tests fascinating. I love to totally and completely lie on them. Just to see if I can figure it out. Sometimes though, totally and completely lying gives you a good picture of what you are not, and I have always said knowing who you are implicitly encompasses who you are not. But anyway, I have taken this long to really decide who I am and I’ve tried out a few other people along the way, only because I always really wanted to be an actress and never did get around to doing that in any real sense. And here I am at the near-37 mark of life and feel that now that I know who I am and who I want, they’re all gone.

It’s like the discount bin at the book store. No one wants to read those books but you buy them because they’re like 20 cents. No no, I’m totally and completely kidding. I don’t think that of people. People are at least worth a dollar.

But I will grant you that there is something to be said for being too picky. A friend of mine (*cough*chrismills*) seems to find it an amusing pasttime to pick out eligible bachelors for me, who are always inevitably too young for me. But he has told me in no uncertain terms that I’m too picky. I’m telling you if he can’t get a beer legally he’s too young. But I have considered this, (um, the picky part, not the under 21 part) and quite honestly the kind of man I am looking for does exist, but with certain problematic spots. And the question becomes do you just ignore those things and is that “settling” – or is that particular area something you can work through and not let it cut off an otherwise potentially beautiful relationship?

The jury is still out.

In the meantime, I go about my business and I do the kinds of things I can be proud of and feel challenge me to be a better person. So that I am the kind of person I would want. I think i read that in He’s just not that into you. Because I want someone to be into me – someone other than me. And relatives. And people who only wish they were me.

Ok, that was pompous.



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