Babe, Keys?

I have gotten chewed out by married people for forgetting my wallet and keys when I leave places. It falls into the list of things you simply shouldn’t do, especially if you’re single.

I quite agree. One shouldn’t lose one’s keys. Yet one does. One does more than once.

21368993531_f247be4d65_z — This is the face of a duck who hides her keys in her feathers. You think ducks don’t hide keys? Look at that face. This duck probably has yours right now.

In college my roommate asked me to run with her to the drugstore real quick and I walked out the door with a jar of peanut butter and a roll of Oreo cookies and a knife (because I’m not an animal) and she walked out the door without keys.

We spent four hours on our apartment landing, vaguely hallucinating and getting dehydrated (the stairwell had to be about 80 degrees) because no locksmith believed us when we told them what happened. The giggling might have abetted the disbelief.

I would have been more upset about it, but I got to skip a class with the fantastic excuse of “I’m locked out of my apartment because my roommate.”

I once actually managed to lock myself out of my apartment in the middle of a tornado warning as I was making dinner in the oven and walking around barefoot. Drove closer to the tornado to pick up a spare set.

I’ve locked myself out of my apartment in the middle of a rainstorm wearing pajamas, and walked a mile to recover my spare keys.

When you’re single — and most especially if you’re living alone and single — getting locked out is always an adventure. There’s no reliable person who has keys who is contractually obligated to come to your rescue. And I’ve never once found a safe place to hide my keys outside my apartment that won’t be easily discovered if someone with an extra five minutes decided to rob my adorable, though hardly richly furnished apartment (you hear me burglars?).

I don’t know if it’s true that married people don’t lock themselves out of their home as much as single people, but given the surprise I’ve encountered, it seems to be a real thing.

Perhaps when you marry you get better at keeping track of your keys, or perhaps you get to take advantage of “babe, where are my keys?” something single people don’t usually say.

I mean, I could. I could say that the next time I lose my keys. But honestly, people get uncomfortable enough when I talk to myself in the Safeway parking lot. Adding an invisible significant other to my repertoire probably won’t help.

Why That Jerk is Married

You ever met someone who watches a Disney movie and says, “why can’t men be like Prince Charming?” Or…Mr. Darcy? Or…I don’t know, the guy from the British movie/series/play with the smolder? Or the women that look around at those who are married and evaluate their qualifications for marriage?

“So-and-so is married. How is that they’re married and I’m still single?” Or, and I’ve heard this twice from friends, “How did THAT person convince TWO different people to marry them??”

The root of this is “that person is insane/awful/evil/crazy/worse than me and marriage (which I see as a relational victory) is only for those who are well-adjusted and deserving and good and kind and …karma, somehow. WHY AM I NOT MARRIED.”

That’s right. Did you know that you’re only allowed to get married if you’re emotionally stable and emotionally healthy? If you look attractive, have good hygiene and all your shit together? You can only get married if you don’t have any baggage from previous events in your life, and that when you want to be in a marriage a marriage will land in your lap?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — And while I’m selling you that fairy tale, can I convince you this is Prince Charming’s horse…Clip Clop?

No I didn’t think I could fool you. There’s actually no guaranteed successful method to finding the perfect marriage partner. Which is how a lot of really “undeserving” people get married.

It turns out that marriage is not about “deserving”.

It’s important that single people really hear this. Getting married is not hard. If you only want to be “married”, if the “Mrs.” is the most important thing to you, it’s not going to be challenging to find a spouse.

*I’m not implying that all married people fell into the institution, merely that if your only interest is the institution it’s fairly easy to get in.*

Quite literally, mail order brides exist to solve the concern of “I just want to be married.” If not today, then tomorrow. And online dating is an entire sea of men who would love to skip the chitchat and “just get married”.

The problem isn’t that awful people get married (and good people, I’m not saying wonderful people can’t get married too), it’s that somehow you’re under the impression that a person you dislike or judge to be lacking for some reason found what you perceive to be “their soulmate” and you have not.

You think it should be harder for awful people to find love. Which, that’s an issue you can sort out on your own time and hopefully in your own therapy sessions.

You don’t deserve marriage. No one deserves marriage. You don’t deserve any kind of relationship. Because that’s not how relationships work.

I don’t want to get all Full House about this, but the moral of the story is that you have chosen to make something else in life a higher priority than just “getting married”. It’s what I call “standards”.

*I’m not implying married people don’t have high standards, stick with me*

To be honest, everyone has a different set of them. “High” standards are not what I’m talking about here. Some people would acknowledge they have simple standards and others would boast they have high-maintenance standards. But good luck comparing one set of standards with another. It’s like comparing quilts with avocados.

You can’t measure someone else’s marriage by your own standards of relational success.

Now, if you don’t like that you’re unmarried, you might try another look at your standards. See if they’re unreasonable, or dated. See if you’re willing to compromise on some of them.

Listen, your standard can be Prince Charming. That’s between you and your movie watching. But your standard doesn’t mean “there’s no good guys left”. You just don’t like the choices available. But don’t forget, you have choices.

It may sometimes feel like being single isn’t a choice, but it is. Don’t take out your disappointment with your relational status on people risking everything to get married. They’ve got a hard enough time staying together without your judgment layering over them.

But I do encourage you to find a way to be at peace with your decision. It’s not always going to feel good, but staying true to your dreams and principles and hopes is something single people need to learn well and deeply. Those are the big things that make you, you.

They may not make you into perfect marriage material, but then again, no one is, so enjoy the things that make you special, and stop wasting your time caring about why that jerk is married.

How God Copes with Unrequited Love

Unrequited love is the ugly scorned child of romantic love. At least that’s been my experience with those I’ve talked to about love. The ideal, naturally, is two people falling in love together at the same time and staying together forever.

Unrequited lovers are victims of the more common type of love giving without receiving. Most people experience this form of heartbreak in their life. Most people know the heart hollowing experience of mattering much less to someone than they matter to you.

Just this weekend I was talking with a friend who was discovering unrequited love for the first time. His experience brought back my own and made me cringe, all the familiar feelings and thoughts are there, and all the false hopes and dreams too.

Everyone thinks their own love story is terribly unique, not subject to the same rules that so often come up in advice. “This is different” is the common insistence of the unrequited lover. And yet, here he was telling me things I already knew.

“She’s amazing.”

“We’re good friends; I don’t want to ruin the friendship.”

“She doesn’t know how I feel.”

“She’s interested in someone else. He’s perfect.”

“If I tell her how I feel it will make things awkward.”

“If I wait, maybe she’ll come around.”

My first response every time I encounter love unrequited is to ask if they’ve told the person yet. This is the one true test. No love can qualify as unrequited if you’ve not given the person the chance to requite it, can you?

Most angst-ridden lovers have not managed this terrifying step. How humiliating, how horrifying. How traumatic! Besides, they already know. Having it said out loud would ruin the luxurious fragile bubble they’ve created for themselves.

I remember these feelings too. I remember not feeling worthy of the one I loved. I remember thinking our friendship was too special, too unique to sully with my feelings. I remember how I once thought he couldn’t possibly perceive my emotions, and how he was undeniably perfect. I remember wanting to go on being awkward privately, pretending to imagine I wasn’t utterly awkward outwardly. And I remember waiting, in vain for a resolution well outside my grasp.

And I remember most in those moments after I confessed my love (and was unrequited) that I turned to God heartbroken, wondering what he could know of it. What could he possibly say to one of his children that had suffered from dashed romantic hope. Because, obviously, it’s not as if God had ever loved someone who didn’t love —

Ah. Yes, there it is. God wrote the book on unrequited love. In both the Old and New Testaments we see God in an endless yearning for his children.

When Christ died on the cross, was that love fully returned? Was I not guilty myself of being careless with the love offered to me?

Culturally we are embarrassed by unrequited love. Humiliated to love someone who doesn’t return the favor, but in the whole of my readings I’ve never found God to be embarrassed by his love for us. And he’s had better cause than I ever had.

In terms of a truly unique story I think God’s qualifies. Sure, he might start with, “She’s amazing.” But I roll my eyes, I know he’s just speaking with the eyes of love.

Would he call me a good friend? Perhaps, but I would agree with him that real love, in all its purest best form can never ruin a friendship. It can only make that friendship stronger.

And since God has spent my entire life showing me that he loves me, he’d certainly never complain that I don’t know how he feels and he’s not embarrassed to gush and be extravagant with his love either regardless of the enthusiasm of my response.

And while it’s true, I might be interested in someone, or something else, God knows whatever it is isn’t perfect and can’t hold a candle to what he’s offering. Humans are never so bold in their love. Never quite convinced it is enough.

I don’t believe God has ever feared an awkward greeting. In fact, I’m fairly convinced awkwardness is a human construction that stems from fear and insecurity. Too often we let our worst qualities stifle our best emotion.

And as to waiting. Well I know the answer to that very well too. He will wait forever. But his waiting isn’t filled with moping, and it’s not filled with bitterness or hope deferred. No, God always waits for us patiently, wooing us sweetly. He never tires, never loses hope, and never ceases to love.

In all the forms of love I know, unrequited is the most common, and it mirrors most God’s love for all his children. For those that suffer love are the ones best suited to understand a love that suffers.

Why I Don’t Picket Valentine’s Day

Sometimes when we overreact to something we mask it as “protesting”. A lot of people protest Valentine’s Day, and that’s stupid.

I get that it’s a “stupid” holiday for a lot of people. Or that it’s painful, or that it’s seen as “couple-centric”, but honestly, I think we’ve been seeing it wrong for years.

Remember when you were a kid, and the week before Valentine’s Day everyone made little “mailboxes” out of construction paper and glue, and you went out and bought Garfield Valentine’s Day cards, or Transformer Valentine’s Day cards and those little candy hearts, and you gave everyone in your class treats and notes saying “You’ve transformed my day” or “You’re the cat’s meow” and everyone gave you cards saying “I like you beary much” or “Superman thinks you’re SUPER”? Wasn’t that a great time?

Don’t let age take away the fun of giving and receiving on a day that celebrates love. Sure, culturally most people take it to mean romantic love. And some purists take it back all the way to St. Valentine’s martyrdom.

But you don’t have to do either of those. Start a NEW tradition. Send those little cards around your office, give people little packs of red and white and pink M&Ms. In short, take this as an opportunity to open your heart, not close it off.

Protesting this holiday makes you look bitter, angry, and pitiable. Don’t give that to people. Give them sugar instead!

And if you really feel the need to wallow on Valentine’s Day, do it in the privacy of your own home by watching a string of really awful romantic comedies (I have a lot of suggestions and have actually done this before. Whilst eating a heart shaped pizza. With friends. Not solo. Never do that solo.). Not by wearing black, which only makes you look sad and makes good-hearted people feel bad because someone is sending them flowers.

Valentine’s Day isn’t a Hallmark holiday, nor is it one designed to make single people feel inferior. So stop feeling inferior, and go out and enjoy a celebration of love the good old-fashioned way: via tiny little pop culture icons making non-sequitur puns about relationships.

Adjustment Disorder

“For your insurance submission, I have to include a diagnosis,” my new counselor said. “So the code on the paperwork refers to a diagnosis of Adjustment Disorder.”

I laughed out loud.

Mike’s career as a counselor is his second career. He is also a musician and music producer–we’ve even crossed paths unknowingly at a few creative retreats and conferences. His counseling practice focuses on therapy with artists and creative people.

“It’s a pretty standard reason for taking up therapy for any reason–it’s a low-grade diagnosis. I just wanted to make sure you understood what it meant.”

I laughed again, harder, and Mike looked at me questioningly. I mean, he already knows a lot about my weaknesses and failings, obviously. But usually it comes out in tears instead of laughter. I tried to explain.

“It’s just funny. I mean, ‘Adjustment Disorder.’ Isn’t that just the state of being for a Christian…for being human? It seems like that’s just LIFE. We’re all, always, out of sync with the broken world, right?”

Mike smiled ironically, “You’re a big thinker. Well, it’s just a way of indicating to insurance that there’s a reason for your going through this therapy process.”

I nodded. “I just thought it was a funny way of saying “SNAFU. You know. How the human “normal” means that everyone is a little screwed up.”

He laughed again. That’s what I like about Mike. A counselor should be able to laugh at your jokes.

Adjustment disorder. Who DOESN’T have it?

Un-birthdays, Mourn Days, and Getting Over Growing Up

Most people, after the age of 21, hate milestone birthdays. If you’re single these milestones often fill you with absolute dread. A validation of your inevitable old maid status.

A dear friend of mine was recently facing down this horror herself, and found she was ill-equipped to deal with confronting her 30th with grace and strength. There was too much she hadn’t done in her 20s, too much that was “pathetic” about her life as a 29 year-old.

Now, I love birthdays. I love all birthdays, but especially my own. I think that birthdays should have a special significance if you are single because it really is that one day out of the year that you have an “excuse” to celebrate and pamper you. Let’s face it, no one else is doing it the other 364. So when my friend confessed she was dreading her birthday I knew that I needed to take action. I needed to create a holiday.

Originally dubbed “Mourn Day,” the “Un-birthday” was born. It is the day in which you mourn over the preceding events of the year or years or decade or decades and reflect on the past, and then firmly put it behind you.

Rules of the Un-birthday:

When to celebrate your un-birthday: Your un-birthday is the eve of your birthday. You may selectively choose to celebrate your un-birthday as the seasons of your life have need for it.

The un-birthday may be celebrated in the days preceding your birthday as necessity or convenience allows. For some of the un-birthday activities, you may find it wise to space them apart from your actual birthday so as to avoid an ” un-birthday hangover” on your birthday.

Who to invite to your un-birthday: You may celebrate with friends or family or by yourself. It is strongly advised to celebrate with a small group of friends to experience the un-birthday atmosphere appropriately. It is, after all, a day of reflection.

What to wear to your un-birthday: black or whatever is your culturally accepted color of mourning. This would be a decent time to wear that wedding dress you bought on impulse and have not gotten a chance to try out. It is strongly encouraged that guests dress appropriately.

How to celebrate your un-birthday: The itinerary and length of an un-birthday may vary, but it should include these key elements:

Quick Food: Nothing should require work or effort. Dishes should be minimal, if non-existent. For my friend’s un-birthday we went with Ruffles chips and a canned french onion dip, frozen pizza with extra cheese, and store-bought cookies.

Strong drinks: Now is the time to try out that drink combination that’s probably terrible. Time and effort for this is allowed, but should be proportional to the alcoholic content. The more alcohol the more time is allowed in preparation. We went with a cocktail which combines gin and moonshine among other ingredients (recipe below).

Socially frowned upon activity: On an un-birthday you may very well feel like giving the world, your previous younger self, and all those people you hate the finger. There are small cathartic ways to do this. Remember, always be safe when using elements like fire, alcohol, toilet paper, recreational and legal drugs, dairy products, eggs, paint, sharp objects, and heavy objects. We went with smoking clove cigarettes on the porch. (GASP)

Your un-birthday list: This is vital. This is the list that itemizes your regrets of the past year/s/decade/s. What you put on the list is entirely your decision, but we discovered once you begin listing regrets candidly, you may be surprised at how many things you’re actually depressed about. Some helpful suggestions: not paying off your college tuition, not using your college degree, college, not getting married, rejecting that one person because they had “weird hands”, never learning how to swim, not being a morning person, hating kale, etc. Get creative, get specific, do it right.

A lighter and a safe fire-proof container: After you have compiled your list you are allowed a moment or two, a shot or two, or a chugged beverage to think about this list, how much it sucks, and what a personal failure you consider yourself to be. Once you’ve really allowed the whole suckiness of aging to hit you, put the list in the fire-proof container, take out your lighter, and light the little bastard on fire. As you watch it turn to ashes remind yourself that what’s done is done. Have another drink, and get ready to party.

Laughter: You cannot close your un-birthday on sadness. This is strictly forbidden. Your un-birthday should end on a happy note. I suggest watching a comedy. We watched The Heat. If this movie is not for you, I can suggest a film upon request. There are also cat videos on youtube that knock my socks off. Just make sure you have a good, hearty, tears-to-the-eyes laugh.

Blood-letting: This is optional, I’m just still really pissed her cat clawed open my shoulder for no reason.

The point of an un-birthday is this: to encounter that which sucks, acknowledge it, and realize life isn’t crappy because you’re getting older. Life’s crappy because you’re afraid you’re doing it wrong and somehow failing miserably.

Remember, your birthday is a celebration, it’s a victory, it’s an achievement because despite the numerous times over the past year that you actually genuinely thought to yourself “I can’t do this” “I can’t make it” “I can’t go on” “This is too hard” you are still here. AND you can apparently still afford liquor, or at least afford friends that can afford liquor and either way, well done.

That’s pretty sweet sauce. On the birthday cake. Or on the side. We also recognize not everybody likes having sauce on their cake.

And here’s the drink that makes your un-birthday worth celebrating:

The Loretta Lynden

*note: Katrina and Jana are both from a small Star’s Hollow-size town in the very extreme corner of Northwest Washington state, thus the name of the drink.
Inspired by Loretta Lynn’s brief time in Northwest Washington, this drink which features blackberries native to the region, is named in her honor.

12 oz tumbler
Gin (the cheaper the better): 2 oz
Blackberry Moonshine*: 1 oz
Lemon juice: A splash
Mint infused simple syrup*: A splash, or sweeten as required
Tonic water: Fill up the glass

* Easier option: regular moonshine and real blackberries smooshed with a spoon

* Easier and less time consuming option: rip apart mint leaves, add to glass, stir in honey

When Singleness is a Lot Like Owning a PT Cruiser

I used to drive a PT Cruiser. The why isn’t important. But what’s important is how much having a PT Cruiser began to affect my life. And it wasn’t necessarily positive.

No one who saw the car could refrain from commenting.

I had friends that thought it was straight up hilarious and made jokes regularly.

I had friends that actually refused to be seen in the car at all, for any reason.

I found driving the PT Cruiser to be problematic as well. It had a barely discernable turning radius. It couldn’t accelerate. Other cars seemed to pull out in front of my car with a suspicious frequency.

And it had a ton of problems that were somehow hidden below the surface enough to be indescribable to mechanics, but real enough on the road.

In a perfect world, owning a type of car different from other types of cars would be no big deal, but in this world where public perception influences us more than we think, the kind of car we’re driving around in does matter.

Being single is a lot like owning a PT Cruiser.

Your marital status is by turns offensive, hilarious, anxiety-producing, and personally problematic. You can even become a bit paranoid, assuming all bad things that happen are because everyone knows you’re single.

Most troubling of all, for me, is that any chance I take to make fun of my own relational status gets mistaken as a plea for a spouse. As if it is impossible to enjoy the comical adventures that is the single life.

That’s why Jana and I are here.

When I had my PT Cruiser I was the only person I knew that had one under the age of 60 (another parallel?). I had no one who could relate to me. PT Cruisers were big for people vacationing, and they were great for the elderly, but after awhile I really started to think all the issues I had with the car were mine and mine alone.

It’s just not the case. You’re not crazy. We’re not crazy. The only people who are crazy are those who never wonder if they are.

So Jana and I are would like to share with you those little clinks and screeches that go with being single. Maybe you’ve got the same issues, or maybe you just want to hear a new perspective on something you find funny, offensive, or awkward.

We’re more than pleased to be part of the conversation either way.

Thanks for joining us!

Lots of love and empathy, and a spoonful of irony,

Katrina and Jana

Notes on Notes from the Sea

If you’re single at any age, you’ve probably heard that there are plenty of fish in the sea. Maybe from your grandma at Christmas, or a well-meaning co-worker. In fact, the older you get, the more you tend to hear sentiments like this.

We can relate to feeling like small fish in a big ocean. There are plenty of fish out there, and we’ve met our share of guppies, trouts, sharks and clownfish. But while that’s certainly true, we’re not complaining. After all, it’s not a bad old life, and we thought we’d share some of what we’re learning along the way. Thanks for joining us.

Love and Irony,

Jana & Katrina