Why am I Still Single? The Answer.

Why are you still single?
A bold question if ever there was one.

You would be surprised how very many times I have been asked this.  I believed and assumed (until writing this) that the question was born from a person's deep courage that (unfortunately) overflowed into words. But since finishing writing this post (on paper), I have circled back and concluded that maybe it isn't a surplus of courage but a deficit of tact.
Whatever attribute that is present or absent when asking something so personal, my response is fairly standard.  I reel.
I can't manage to say, "Oh that's private" or "How dare you."   Instead, I typically am so taken aback and startled that I generally give an honest, though halting, answer, not because my audience deserves to know, but because the only thing that comes to the surface is the truth.
But, if I weren't taken aback this is the sort of real-life moment I could relate as my answer.

Why?
Because I am a grown woman who leaves work after a hard day to go buy a chocolate chip cookie and coffee.  But I can't simply buy a cookie and coffee.  Life makes it much more complex than a simple money for goods transaction.

While in line, a person managed to sidle up behind me in my blind spot and stand questionably close- so close that his musky cologne wafted over alerting me.  The scent said "There is a man nearby," so I can only assume the cologne was doing it's job announcing an aura of male-ness.
As I stepped  up in line to order a chocolate chip cookie, I caught sight of him in the corner of my eye and it caused me to jump a little. (He was in fact standing that close.  Had he been a ninja, I would be dead.)
And this is how I recovered after jumping.

Me: Oh!  I'm sorry.
I looked at the man and noticed he is very attractive.  This observation typically ends all chances of a coherent conversation.

Me: I smelled you before I saw you there.

Let that sentence that I really said out-loud hover in the air and 
sink in. 

A feeling of horror passed over my body.  Yes, I said what I heard myself say.

Him: (weak smile) Ah ha.

I stepped forward and started to order.

Me to the barista: I'd like a chocolate chip cookie.

I noticed now that the barista is also attractive and realized how juvenile I sounded at this very moment in time.

Me turning to the smelly man: But that's a good thing.  I mean, it's a good smell.

Me turning to the barista: And I'd like a cup of coffee

Barista: What size would you like? 12 oz.... 14 oz?

Me: Of cookie?

Barista: (silence)
Me: Oh.  I'd like a 12 oz coffee and a 16 oz cookie (joking).

I paid.
I apologized to the man behind me a second or third time.
I gave the barista another "help me" and "did that really happen?" look.
Barista said telepathically: Yes, that really did happen. Walk away now.

I and slink away to find a seat.


Yes world, I say whatever comes to mind instead of mindfully flirting.
I eat cookies after work and lick the chocolate from my fingers in public.
I attempt to be complimentary but instead tell men they smell and forget to tack on the oh-so-important word "good" until it is essentially too late.

You may find that adorable.  That's fine.  It is a true representation of my daily life.  I can say my personality and ability to stumble over words when ruffled gives me plenty of reasons to laugh.  It's good that I am able to laugh at myself while keeping my dignity.

But if you are asking me why I am still single, then that, the above story, is now "The Answer."
I'm going to rehearse it so it comes out smoothly.

Thank you so much for taking such a keen interest in my life, but really, stop asking.
The people who need to know why, know already.  And if you have to ask instead of me telling you voluntarily, then you aren't on my emotional life VIP list.

Flirt, Write, and Talk Boldly: Listed Resolutions and a Revelation

Here is my short list of New Year's Resolutions.

I will at any point expand or annotate it, because I love a good list.

(Yes, this is written on a Christmas card envelope.

I love writing on envelopes.)

Typically I don't commit to a list before the new year.  Nor do I kick it off right away or broadcast it.  I try (if I do have some resolutions) to adopt new habits, not abolish them.  They are born out of necessity, not convention. 

Can you see the pattern in my list this year?

It took awhile for me to spot.  

Think on it a moment.

Actually, the pattern, was revealed in a quiet moment of prayer.  It came during one of those liturgical moments of silence, during a prayer of confession, while praying for sins to be revealed. 

The thought without lead-in came fully formed: 

"You're hiding."

And so I am.  And so I have been.  Daily pulling a metaphorical huge hoodie over myself.  The soft folds swallow and comfort all of me and conceal me as well.  We all are at times, hiding, and need to be to heal or grow, but my time and need for hiding is over.  It has become a protected, easy, and admittedly lazy place.  

I know it's high time that I am seen again.  Full on. 

Not quite metaphorical spandex unitard with visible panty-lines "seen," but...this metaphor is unraveling fast. I hope you understand.  

Not to say that this list came out of those revealing two words.  

It came before.  

I'm so glad that they align.  

But of course with a listening heart, they always would. 

Dear Jon (Letter), The Breakup Part II

Returning home with my new phone was problematic.  I left the store glad and sure of my purchase.  I did not get far.

I remained in the parking lot for 20 minutes and became exponentially less certain each minute that I was unable to use said device.  In attempting to send a celebratory text to  my mom, dad, and brother, I found that I could not.
No, I am not that daunted by technology as to not know how to text.  My contacts list had not transferred, or at least the contacts that had are not in my "inner circle." Try as I might, I could only call my mom, because outside of my childhood home phone number this is the only other phone number I know by heart.

Calling mom was not the celebration I had hoped for.  It only made us keenly aware of the expense of adding a third phone to the plan and made me question my resolve to  not go with the confusing Mobile Share + Next program.  Was I only being resistant and stubborn because I like to be resistant and stubborn, I wondered.  Possibly...
The price and the lack of ability to use said expensive thing was upsetting.
I hate buying things.  And probably like every other human on the planet, I hate being made to feel small, especially when it is an object that you own.  It's insulting and I felt it as such.

By the time I got out of the car at my home, I decided that I'd made a terrible mistake.

I wanted out.

This is familiar territory for me: the sheer panic that comes after a commitment.  I have a rather large internal eject button.  I can't explain why. People like to tell me, when it applies to a relationship, that it is a sign that things "aren't right or meant to be," a comforting thought, but seeings how it also comes just as easily with major and minor purchases, I think it's more to do with realizing that I have misgivings and not deciding felt better than making a choice and entering the world of "what if."

Let's just say when I got inside my home I was in tears and crestfallen.  I called Jon alert him of the problem (read: call it off) but he didn't pick up.  I ate lunch (to get my blood sugar up) and then headed back to the store.
The manager checked me in, said "oh you're back" (yes I really was there that long) and Jon came over.

"My contacts aren't in my phone.  I can't text anyone and I think I want an iPhone" I blurted out.
Jon hung his head and sighed.
"I'm sorry.  I just can't do it."
And we went back to the ridiculously tall table and non chairs.

Jon calmed me down and counseled me to keep the phone for another day, because if we changed them out then the manager was going to charge a 35 dollar fee.

I do not know the ending of this yet.  I returned to the store again today, the different manager also wanted the restocking payment, and the iPhones were sold out.

Now I guess the question is, how many trips to the store does it take to get a Smart Phone?
More than three.
But I have survived and thrived this long without one, so what does it really matter?
And for kicks and grins, here's a peek at how I am keeping this phone safe before I switch it out.

Introducing the Smart Sock!

(The store was sold out of protectors.)

How to Buy a SmartPhone at a Brick and Mortar Part 1

This is a series of events that really happened. It is a 2 part tale...at least.
Today I went to a cell phone store.  It has been my 3rd visit between December 18th to present.
My phone has been due for an upgrade since November and because my current phone's back has been missing for 3 months; it was time.
In November of 2011, I got a phone with texting capabilities, and it changed (perhaps forever) the way I communicate.  My 2014 upgrade I wanted more of the same.  Not faster speed. Not the Internet.

(As a side note I am opposed on at least 2 fronts for having a Smart Phone.  One is the philosophical opposition about society and our lack of connection which is enabled/ worsened by technology.  The second is one of fear.  I wonder how I will react to having instant gratification and knowledge at my fingertips, and if I have enough of whatever it takes to let myself wonder, think, remember, and forget.)

These qualms I hold up next to the knowledge that this technology is what the world has embraced, businesses and people alike.  I wonder if resistance is futile and if I should instead learn to take the technology and mold it to my terms and values.)

Reconciling my feelings over several months, I decided to take the next step.  After gathering recommendations from friends I went to the AT&T store prepared.  Preparedness being a relative term, because how can a person be prepared and enter into an environment that's layout, delivery of information, seating is designed with confusion in mind?

Would you like to know what was in my survival kit?   Hint: the opposite of technology.

A hardback of David Sedaris' Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls
Several pens
My composition notebook
An old school calculator
Lipstick and gum (They don't hurt when you need to get good service.)

I shook Jon's hand, introduce myself while hearing piped in dance mix music that's a little too loud for conversational speech.  I let him lead me to a high top table with seats that are not quite stools and not really chairs.  If you sit down incorrectly, you can swivel right off. Believe me.

I was direct and asked many specific price point driven questions, took notes, made a grid and after what seemed like hours had Jon very flummoxed himself.  He was doing a whole-handed face rub.  I always interpret this as someone holding back what they want to say and massaging it out and off until they have to do it again to remain composed.

Poor Jon.  I wasn't cooperating with the script.
But this was going better than the second to last time I had gone in, when I told the sales rep that he had made me very confused.  That I was going home.  And I was going to do research on my own.

But dear reader, this is not a complaining piece, because my time in the store took a positive turn.
While Jon was crunching numbers, and I was asking about the final bill and resisting the "value plan" he started to talk about not phone things.

I am not saying that at any point I was treating this man shabbily, I wasn't.  In fact I was apologetic for having him run so many numbers and for my asking so many questions.  I even told him a time or two, "I am not asking this because I don't trust you, I just don't know that I trust this plan is what it seems like."

I am fairly certain changing our dialogue helped him as well, from a non-verbal standpoint it did, but it absolutely helped me put in perspective that this was a person doing his job, was doing it well, and doing it as he'd been trained.

I don't recall which of these things happened first.
One was, "I don't think of myself as a retail person."
The other was, "Oh that was awkward.  That's my ex's brother who just walked by."
But both of his statements were completely humanizing.
I was able to respond with, "I was horrible in retail.  I only lasted 2 days."
And, "Oh him? He felt awkward too.  I saw his face.  Don't worry, there's glass between you."

Had this been a team building exercise these exchanges would have gotten us back on track.  Because we were working towards a common goal.  And we've had common experiences.

By the end of my time buying said phone I was solidly on team Jon.  We were laughing.  I got to see pictures of his dogs.  I had ditched trying to use the chair and was standing to help me feel more grounded and stable.
I felt comfortable with my phone decisions and I left.
All because he let me realize that yes, he was working in a huge retail store, but he is a person.
Isn't it interesting that in the midst of my internal dilemma about technology and in the center of a phone store, I had a pure example of what it means to put down phones, learn, and relate to each other?
This is what I crave.  This is what I want to protect.  This is what I want to remember.  People are everywhere.  And we can connect.

Guidelines, of sorts

As is my custom, the order of things, even with as few as 2 posts is disordered.

And so is reflective of every research paper I've ever written and is an interesting reflection of life as well. 

In an attempt to have a touchstone in this blog, here are a few clarifying statements for when I lose my way.  

1.) Safety first. 

In the event something inappropriate happens, be it comments, strange emails, being found and contacted on other media, etc, it will be addressed.  I will never disclose my habits, haunts, workplace, address, phone number, etc. 

I am a proud St. Louisian, that you will know. 

2.)  Story-telling does not mean "tell all."

I will respect my private life and take strides to not compromise it. 

In the same vein, I will respect the privacy and lives of others, post things with permission and/ or change names when appropriate. 

3.) This is an honest portrait of myself not who I want you to think I am.

I am a human.  I make mistakes.  I am sensitive.  I am messy.  

I will not pretend to be better than I am.  I will not clean myself up for you.  At times I imagine will discuss messiness and struggle, when it is processed enough inside myself.  Not to hide, but to honor my feelings.  

4.) This blog is to have a positive voice.

I will highlight creativity, curiosity, learning, and joys through sharing.

It will not be a forum to vent my problems or opinions.  Those are for true conversations with people face to face to work through and learn together.  

5.) This blog will have some variety.

To the extent that I can now and that I can grow into, I will develop and write posts on various topics and in different formats to stretch myself as a writer.

6.) This blog will be pleasing to the eyes. 

There will be some pictures, but above all I want the content to speak for itself.

If I ever stray from these, I promise to myself and to you (readers) that I will make strides to make my way back.