The Singledom

Since the holidays are on fast forward this year, I thought I'd do a little blip on what I call The Singledom. This has been a recurring theme in my life recently so it deserves a spot on my blog. You can call this akin to the "married" or the "baby" blog. I'll try to keep this entertaining. Since I'm single this is the realm of my life: The Singledom.

I call being single Singledom for one good reason: It is my kingdom I am lord and master of.

We of the Singledom have a different life. We do things like travel to Morocco, buy really expensive shampoo, shop for luxury cars we couldn't possibly afford unless single while our friends shop for the quintessential minivan, eat out at a cozy sit-down we refer to as "fast food" while we laugh over all the crazy life stories of the week, get in our quality gym time every day, gather our friends for parties that extend until someone has to go to work 24 hours later, and go on dates simply because we're curious, not serious. We refer to the Significant Other as the S.O. or "that one guy" or "Texas with the Lexus." When things get serious we call it a success story. Then and only then does "Texas" earn his name in conversation. Tink's pixie dust fresh on our unchanging collar, we lack the baggy eyes, the stretch marks, the gray hairs, and frazzled expression of parenthood. But, inwardly, we are proud of those who made it to parenthood and wear it so well.

Our days are filled with work and social obligations. We rule the Singledom with a flick of the wrist. A single, one, person rule. Life is mostly comfortable here. Until our social obligations force us into the hunt. The Dating Game is a dangerous yet familiar one. We are calm as the onslaught begins. Causalities abound on this field. We weave, we dodge, and we parlay, and sometimes we engage the opponent in a game of cat and mouse. It's all muscle memory by now. Ally's at our back, we scan the grounds looking for the win. To be in the Singledom, the Win is elusive. If we find the Win, our reign of Singledom is over; leaving the Game as victors: scarred, tired, and euphoric while our friends look on.

My dear fellow," said the general, "have I not told you I always mean what I say about hunting? This is really an inspiration. I drink to a foeman worthy of my steel--at least." The general raised his glass, but Rainsford sat staring at him.
"You'll find this game worth playing," the general said enthusiastically. "Your brain against mine. Your woodcraft against mine. Your strength and stamina against mine. Outdoor chess! And the stake is not without value, eh?"
"And if I win--" began Rainsford huskily.
"I'll cheerfully acknowledge myself defeat if I do not find you by midnight of the third day," said General Zaroff.
-The Most Dangerous Game

THE SEEN

The year I went from the Scene to the Seen, "party" became a four-letter word.

The Diagnosis

I'm naturally shy so I combat what I call misdiagnosed conceitedness. It's not possible to be remotely attractive and shy. People mistake my Shy for being stuck-up unless I am the life of the party. And this leads people to believe I'm high maintenance. It's no-win.

California knows how to party. In the city of Compton, we keep it rockin'. Shake it Cali.

The Scene: In a former life, 'good times' involved dim lighting, loud music, a smorgasbord open 'bar' of soda and snacks and chilling and grooving with 100 other people you never met before to get a few new numbers. Peacocking is mandatory. SoCal influence hits up Utah hot.

The year I discovered making an appearance was a lot more fun than throwing the party I lost Social Statii. The older I get the less I like the Scene. My idea of a party these days involves a grill, sunscreen, Sangria, and 10 of my closest. That's my scene. No dancing, no partying, no mystery people, no keystone friends to invite so you can pimp your party to the right crowd.

The Symptoms

I hate mingling ever since my stint as an event planner. It was the never-ending dinner cruise in San Diego, dancing on the bar to YMCA with the servers at the Hard Rock in Phoenix, or those times in Chicago, Miami, or Seattle. All that forced "fun" mingling made me hate it. 

The Cure

I don't often do parties unless they include descriptors: Beach Party, Movie Night, World Cup, Suzanne Somers Summer Celebration. The more character, the more I am attracted. (That's a universal statement for me- houses, men, cars, friends, you name it.)

If I wanted to dance and get hit on repeatedly I'd go dancing. If I want to chill with 100 people I don't know, I'll go to a concert. If I want numbers, I'll flirt. If I want loud music and dim lights, I'll go to a movie. That's my scene.

I'm the Seen; seen mostly by the food table for an hour before I hit up the midnight showing.

I wonder if it isn't the same for all of us. Adulthood is a glacier encroaching quietly on youth. When it arrives, the stamp of childhood suddenly freezes, capturing us for good in the image of our last act, the pose we struck when the ice of age set in. -The Rule of Four