Where have all the singletons gone?

In Cincinnati, we often talk about "brain drain," the act of creative people leaving Cincinnati. But what about "Date Drain?" People are also leaving Cincinnati because dating in Cincinnati is, well, draining. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone's dated everyone. You meet someone and realize that they are the cousin of your last boyfriend. It's damn near incestual.

I'm still a new kid in Cincinnati- I've only been here about 13 years. Which, by Cincinnati standards, is a nanosecond. The funny thing is, as much as people complain about the small-town nature, they are reluctant to let it go. Cincinnati is like a microcosm of the immigration debate. Someone moves to Cincinnati, and it's like they immigrated from Micronesia. How are you supposed to relate- you don't even know their high school! And how are you supposed to meet them at the Friday night game. Does anyone realize that there are PROFESSIONAL sports teams in this city?

I honestly don't know how to fix this. I get involved in every activity I can, but I only meet people who are already dating their- of course! high school sweetheart. I talk to everyone I meet- I even went on a date with a guy I met at the grocery (of course, he was from London, so I guess it doesn't count). I do know this. Cincinnati will get smaller and smaller (literally) as long as people are in the hometown pride mindset. And Chicago, Columbus, Indy, and the like will get bigger as they embrace the newcomers.

Sooner or later, I'll decide it's time to settle down. I'll probably be in Chicago.

Songs by Staind

It's been a while...

I haven't written in a while. Although writing is cathartic for me, it's also exhausting. And life has been exhausting enough lately.

So you might remember a past post where I talked about going back to school- not for a PhD, but for a degree in Public Relations. Well, life has taken a sharp right turn again... I say right turn, because hopefully I'm headed in the correct direction.

Fall of 2008, I will hopefully be starting my doctorate in communication at Ohio University. Yes, moving to Athens, going to school full-time, and hopefully working towards finally becoming a professor and writer. Whew.

But now it's time for the pontificating that you all enjoy...

This morning I woke up and flipped on the TV and of course, it was HGTV. And it was a special on the "Ultimate Wedding Guide." And the "experts" were saying things like, "you want your guests to walk away thinking that wow, you thought of everything" and "favors should be either edible or useful" and "your dress sets the tone for the entire wedding."

Although my stomach was turning at this kind of stuff, you kind of wonder why there is such a fuss made about weddings and marriage. Marriage is no guarantee that you'll stay together- we are at a point now where the divorce rate is 50%! I know of so many couples that were together for years and years and then got married and divorced within 2 years.

It's not like I'm against marriage. I might get married myself some day... but I wonder if the emphasis that society places on the importance of a wedding and getting married by a certain age or at a certain point in your relationship puts undue pressure on couples- and that results in the sky-high divorce rate. I once asked my mother when she knew she and my father would get married (they dated for seven years before marrying). She said, "after about 5 years." Hardly that 2-year timeline that so many couples seem to have. And some people get married after 6 months and never look back.

I always hesitate to give advice on relationships, despite my background in the study of the same. Because every relationship is so different and so unique. We wonder why Brad and Angelina don't get married and then ridicule Britney for marrying everyone who seems to cross her path. Maybe we should all take a step back and let people do what they want with their relationships. Get married, don't, live together, don't, have babies first, don't... whatever floats your boat. I could go into the Christian Right's effect on this with their whole "family values" campaign, but I don't think this has to be a political discussion. I think it's more about appreciating the uniqueness of the individual, and the resulting uniqueness of relationships.

Ok, done for now... the next blog might be about my radical decision to admit- I don't really like kids all that much. I mean, they're fine and all, I just don't want to spend all sorts of time with ones I'm not related to. But that's for another day.

I'm sure you've missed me- I'll try to get back on here soon.

Namaste

On friendship

I once read a little piece on friendship that was quoted in a Dear Abby column. It was comparing friendship to marriage and to the relationship between a parent and child, and even to a business partnership.

It made the excellent point that friendship is that one relationship- that one bond, that one union- that we enter into without any legal proceedings. Nothing binds us to our friends but our fondness for each other. It is a relationship that we look to for security, but has none. Anyone can extinguish a friendship at any time for any reason, with no repercussions.

In a business partnership, there may not be fondness. There may not be trust. There may not be cordiality. But those are the bases of a friendship.

In a relationship between parent and child, there is an unequal power balance. The parent has authority, makes the decisions (ideally), and wields the control. A friendship is based on the nature of equality and the even sharing of power and decision-making between friends.

And marriage. You can only marry one person. Can you imagine the same limitation on friendships? There is always the question- would you rather have one close friend or 5 more distant ones. Can you even think to decide between the two? So many people respond- I would like 5 close friends, please and thank you. Me too.

My best friend lives 2000 miles away. It's probably one of the most difficult things I have had to deal with in a long time. God has been kind enough to send her here when I need her most (a breakup, for instance). But when you think about the insecurity of friendship, you know that a long-distance romance is one thing, but a long-distance friendship is harder than you can imagine.

A nasty case of MySpace

MySpace has become like a virus… infecting everyone, and it’s spread through human-to-human contact. Friends knowingly transmit the disease to friends. “Get a MySpace. We can keep in touch.” I am not innocent in this epidemic.

Generation X, Y, and Z have become overwhelmed with MySpace hysteria. Many new bands do not bother creating web sites anymore, because of the ease of creating a MySpace site, and its access to their target demographic. Actors, comedians, and even political candidates have MySpace pages. It’s the ultimate self-promotion, and it’s so easy! No need to learn HTML anymore. Cut and paste from a few easy-to-use web sites, and you can have a custom-looking site in minutes.

But why? Why this proliferation of MySpace pages? For every moment that you refresh a page, more and more people have joined. Some people do it to meet people, especially romantic prospects. Others use it to promote their businesses or parties. Still others have social causes to support. And then there are some who do it out of sheer vanity. “Here I am! On the Internet! I’ll never be famous, but people all over the world can see blurry self-portraits taken with my cell phone!”

MySpace has become a calculated chaos designed to impress the masses. The home page of the site is a conglomeration of videos, advertising, “new members,” and promotions. It is almost unrecognizable as the networking web site it was originally intended to be. It’s only a matter of time before the commercialization of MySpace follows the nature of all things- from radio to television to magazines.

The motivations are varied. But result is the same. Self-promotion feeding self-absorption in an attempt to convey not the identity that one has, but the identity one wishes to have. Because in the end, the MySpace page is not for oneself, but for all to see. It’s impossible to forget that the world is watching. One is limited by the thing that seems most liberating- space.

How to meet a man...

I have no idea. I have over a decade of dating experience, and I still don’t know how to meet men. I can tell you, however, what does NOT work:

The grocery store does not work. I actually dated a guy who I met at a grocery (the “singles” grocery, of course). There are a couple problems with this approach. First, you better not be buying anything embarrassing. Steal the pregnancy test if you must, but don’t leave it right there next to the Chex cereal. Second, I have found that the natural first date from a grocery store meeting is a homemade dinner. “Hey, you’re buying food! I like food!” This is not a good idea. There is nothing more awkward than being in your apartment with a stranger with nothing to distract you but some steak and salad. (Disclaimer: It’s not safe, either).

Museums, galleries, plays, and other cultural pursuits do not work. Again, there are a few problems with this idea. You think to yourself, I’m going to meet some urbane, sophisticated, mature man this way. No, you’re not. You are going to meet men with girlfriends or wives. You are going to meet gay men, or men who aren’t quite sure. You are going to meet men who spend more money on their shoes and more time on their hair than you do, and who wants to give up that much closet and bathroom space? It seems smart, but don’t bother.

Work- do I even need to say anything here? Best-case scenario, you get married and you lose your job. Worst-case scenario, you break up and lose your job. In between, you break up, and you keep your job and watch him date another co-worker. Does this even sound like fun?

If the men you meet at museums are a little too metrosexual, you’re thinking- fine, I’ll go to a sporting event! I will meet a man who is down-to-earth. He wears a baseball cap. He drinks Budweiser. He is passionate, you can tell by the way the veins in his neck pop out when something happens on the field. I hate to be the one to crush your dreams, but men at sporting events are not there to meet women. You are only going to annoy them by hitting on them. Have you tried to talk to your boyfriend when he is watching a game on TV and he ignores you? How do you think he feels when he’s watching it in real life? The only woman he is interested in at a sporting event is a cheerleader on the big screen.

If you think I’m even going to touch on bars and nightclubs or internet dating, you are thinking far too little of me.

At this point, you are thinking, “for pete’s sake… where DO I meet a decent man?” Re-read the first line. I have no idea. However, I have a suggestion. The only venue I have found no serious problems with is friends’ parties. As long as you get a go-ahead that someone is single, they obviously have some clearance from people you know as to not being crazy. They are not distracted by a live sporting event, and you don’t have to make them dinner. It’s the best I can offer. Then again, I’m single.

A dreamer deferred

As a girl growing up in Detroit in the early 1980s, my dream job seemed easily attainable. I wanted to be a major league baseball manager. I knew a lot about baseball, I liked bossing people around; it seemed natural.

As I got older, I realized how unrealistic that dream was. I set my sights on a new career. I was going to be a fashion designer. My own outfits had always garnered a lot of attention (not necessarily complimentary attention, but attention all the same). It was time to put my artistic skills to work for the greater good of fashionable society.

The next turning point came when my older sister moved in with us while she finished law school. Something about the way she talked about it made it seem very glamorous (at least to a 12-year-old). And another career path was put into place.

After 10 years of chasing the dream of being an attorney (John Grisham should have to pay for my first three years of college- talk about glamorizing law), I realized something that until then seemed inconsequential. I hated law.

After completing bachelor’s and master’s degrees in communication, I taught for a while. But I’m still at a loss as to what I want to be when I grow up. The thing is, the one thing I have always loved to do is write. However, the going rate for writers is $0.00, or something slightly lower, counting postage.

Now I’m a secretary. It pains me a little to type that- to see the words come up on the screen and know that it is true. I can always tell myself it is a temporary situation. But I have held meaningless jobs for many years now. For someone with such high hopes as a child, I feel like the real world has come crashing down upon me with medical bills and car payments and student loans. All the practicalities of life make it impossible to quit the job where my most noteworthy praise is my ability to decipher dictation.

I am left with just a glimmer of hope that around the bend is the career I didn’t know I wanted.

The dreamer is deferred, but not destroyed.