Photo by Rachel Perrone
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After lockdown “ended,” I’d seen a lot of ads for Profs and Pints talks on my Facebook feed.  So many interesting topics.  One April afternoon, I had a “why the heck not” moment and promoted myself as a speaker on singlehood, complete with CV and a PowerPoint I give on Singles Studies.
Much to my pleasant surprise, in July, I received an email back from Peter Schmidt, the founder, inviting me to speak at some point during the summer.  As I was preoccupied with setting up the new homestead, I politely asked him if I could get back to him in the fall.

​Which I did.  I would have loved to present it during National Unmarried and Single Americans Week, but this single person has a full life.  There was a Sunday option, September 15: I’m going to see the New York Giants come into town to play the Commanders with a Meetup group devoted to Giants fans who live in DC (I don’t follow football closely anymore, but I’m hoping to get some New York vibes).  There was Monday, September 16, but with Joan speaking to my writing class on the 17th, I’d like to space out my responsibilities.  So I went with Tuesday, September 3, the day after the Labor Day holiday.

The day before, I was consumed by nerves.  I’ve given talks on this subject before, but this time, people were paying money to see me! My fear was that my anxiety would consume me, I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and consequently, I’d be discombobulated during the presentation.  I reached out to the CoSP tribe for good vibes, and of course, I got them.  Lots of “you got this!”  “Just do what you do!”  And my favorite: “Forget they’re paying.  There’s also confirmation bias at play; they’ll just like it because they’re paying.”  At one point, my self-talk turned from, “They’re paying me for this!  Ahh!” to “They’re paying for this! Cool!”  And then I realized: I’m making it.  This is an important topic, and it’s meaningful to enough people they’re willing to shell out $15-20 of their hard-earned money to see someone talk about it for two hours.  From there, I was able to calm down.  For inspiration, I watched The Dirt, that Netflix movie about Motley Crue’s rise/fall/rise again.  When I was writing How to Be a Happy Bachelor, I felt connected with the movie’s portrayal of Nikki Sixx, Crue’s de facto leader, as he had a rebellious vision and worked fervently, with the help of his buddies Vince, Mick, and Tom, to make it come alive.  I felt pumped up after that.

I didn’t sleep much that night, not due to anxiety, but because Chester kept waking me up by meowing, as he does pretty much every night.  But he did comfort me during my mid-afternoon nap, which I needed after teaching two eighty-minute classes, both of which involved me presenting the first major assignment of the semester, which causes the occasional panic in students.  So I have to expend some emotional labor helping to put their minds at ease.  My colleague, Alex, also was present when I showed up for my morning office hours, and he wished me luck, saying “You’re so good at connecting your work with the community!”  That gave me additional fuel.

More fuel: at around 10 a.m., Peter emailed to tell me the show was sold out at about 100 people.  A little burst of anxiety: even after seventeen years of teaching and presenting, I’d never spoken to that many people at once.  But hey, it meant people wanted to learn about this compelling topic!  So, good for you, Craig!

I had a few last-minute brainstorms before the subway ride, including promoting CoSP and Childfree Singles of the DMV.  When I got there, I was surprised to see Penn Social has the feel of a sports bar.  Guns n’ Roses’s “Paradise City” blared from the speakers as I met Peter.  From there, I placed note cards by each seat for some interactive exercises (I am a writing teacher!). 

The crowd filtered in.  I met a cool guy named Marcus, as well as my fellow childfree friends Rolf, Maria, Steph, and her boyfriend Steve.  Andrew had tried to buy a ticket, but he was beaten by the mad rush of interested parties.  Do check out Maria’s newsletter, Heart-Centered DC, here for awesome spiritual nourishment.

During that talk, I felt more exhilarated than I’d ever been during any presentation.  There was laughter in the right spots, especially during my favorite line, where I critique the phrase “other half/better half.”  I pause, squint my eyes, and say, “So I’m only half a person?”  It got laughs when I presented it at UDC last year as well.

Some great comments and questions came up during the Q&A, including the following:

• An example of singlism in medicine is when women are routinely denied tubal ligation because “you’re not married” or “you’ll change your mind.”
• Are there issues involving declining birth rates, and how does this connect to Singles Studies?
• Do you have solutions for the loneliness epidemic that don’t involve dating? (Answer: yes.  Check out this article for my thoughts on that matter.)
• When do you see laws becoming more equitable for single people? (Answer: many, many years down the road.  This is why we need to advocate now.  As my friend Karen agreed, “We’re playing the long game.”)

And I was pleased to see the light bulbs going off in the audience when they shared their experiences of singlism, matrimania, and amatonormativity.  It’s corny, but I really do learn from students as much as they do from me.  This applies here as well.

At Kamran’s suggestion, I brought a copy of Singular Selves: An Introduction to Singles Studies, the collection of essays Ketaki and I labored to compile.  I got a quick brainstorm and decided to bring a copy of How to be a Happy Bachelor, along with some copies of my business card to create a small display at the table nearest me.

After the talk ended, I had the chance to talk to a few people.  One person thanked me for giving asexuals and aromantics a shout-out.  Another, an aide to a politician, mentioned the possibility of collaborating on some policy work; I gave them the information for Unmarried Equality.  Hopefully, some magic can happen.

After feeling like Tony Robbins for two hours, I walked back to the subway and retreated into the land of the undead; I couldn’t even read my book (My Salinger Year, loaned to me by my fellow activist Christina).  But it was nice being able to unwind without having a human conversation.  I closed out the night by microwaving a bag of Skinny Pop and watching an episode of The Wonder Years.

It was tough to get out of bed this morning, but the 9:30 class I taught beckoned.  I had been on a cloud, but once my students came calling, I was right back down to Earth.  But I’m happy to know the Media Relations Director at UDC will be interviewing me later this week, so who knows the synergy that could happen?

And the best part: I was invited to present at another location.  Next stop: probably Baltimore.  Stay tuned.
 

That first week of school is always hectic.  Meeting after meeting, seeing students for the first time, a heap of administrative tasks on top of planning a dynamic first-day lesson.  By Friday night, I was nearly catatonic.  Fortunately, I had my couch, Chester, and Everybody Hates Chris on Peacock to help me wind down.

Saturday was a trip to the Claude Monet Immersive Experience with my friend Courtney.  Saturday night, more Peacocking.  Sunday was my usual routine of the gym and grocery shopping, followed by a trip to CVS to see if I could get some frames for those Monet prints I got.  None in the 24x18 size, but they did have a deal on my favorite candy, Nestle’s Crunch Bars: two for $3.  I couldn’t resist.
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But the highlight would be the DMV-area Community of Single People Meetup I put together for our friend Arminda’s visit from Topeka, a world away from DC.  On the walk from the Metro to the restaurant, I got some nice pictures of Rock Creek, the Potomac River, and the historic Watergate Hotel, which, in four years of living in our nation’s capital, I’d never seen:

I got to the Waterfront at around 4:40, where I met Tracey at the front.  Arminda followed, straight from her trip to the Kennedy Center; then Chris; then Lisa; then Kelly.  We had a table right next to the window; an outside table would have nice, but the weather was way too hot, and I couldn’t have my planned desert, the aforementioned Nestle’s Crunch Bar, melt.

And, as always, the conversation flowed.  New restaurant recommendations (Sweetwater Tavern, Jimmy’s, Chewish Deli, Brooklyn Bagel Bakery); religious preferences; sports; solo travel, which we’ve all done to an extent, and I think is totally badass; sketchy restaurant practices; and of course, our reaffirmations of our preference of singlehood, which is why our group exists.  As a marginalized population, we need to be among like-minded folks in a world that privileges marriage, which I will say at every opportunity until singles are looked at as equal humans.

After we parted ways, Lisa dropped me off at the Foggy Bottom Metro stop, where I indulged in my app.  But I got a little sad, as I typically do, after these Childfree Singles and CoSP Meetups end, because I’m going back to our matrimaniacal world away from this temporary utopia where we can talk solo travel and not wanting a significant other and know we won’t be judged for it.  Once out of Lisa’s car, I was in back the world where couplehood is conflated with happiness.
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Someday, I dream that such a utopia will form its own city.  Our sextet would make for a good start.

So, when I last wrote, my ceiling was getting repaired.  In talking to my therapist, Rob, I revealed that I was more upset about my ceiling fan being broken than the roof.  Rob validated my feelings, likened it to a sandcastle being knocked down.  After all, I’d put in quite a bit of work on it.  I look at my home as a living piece of artwork.  Fortunately, the complex did replace it.

In the past month, a futon has entered my guest room; Chester has claimed it permanently.  I also did a bunch of shopping at HomeGoods: placemats, silverware, coffee mugs, and a nice paper towel holder.  I felt so smug being the only solo guy there, until I saw another one.  Oh well, humility is good, I suppose.  That said, the smugness returned when I became a rewards member.

Chester’s gotten used to the new place very quickly.  He has more space to move around it, and he alternates between the futon, the new recliner in the main living room, and me when I sit on the couch.  The new bedframe has made the bed higher, so he can’t jump on it.  I got him some steps to reach, but he didn’t feel like walking on them.  Oh well, I tried.

There was a trip to New York to see my Mom and brother, which was a nice break from the routine of waiting on furniture, moving boxes, and being on the phone with blinds specialist, contractors, and customer service representatives.  I love the blinds I have (especially the blackouts in my bedroom), even though the installer does have to return due to one of the valances being unbalanced.  It wasn’t an exotic vacation (or any kind, as I did schoolwork in parts).  But I did get to have some fun.  I saw Deadpool and Wolverine with my brother, met up with fellow singleton Doug in Hoboken, and had dinner with John, another singleton, at one of my favorite old haunts, Mahwah, New Jersey’s State Line Diner.  There was also some solo time in Ridgewood, NJ, another cool Jersey town, and a walk in Nyack, my favorite spot in Rockland County, with my Mom.  This break was needed.  And that Amtrak trip is always fun and relaxing; I plan to do it more.

​Friday, August 16 marked three months I’d been in the new home.  And, coincidentally, it was the day I needed to report back to school for our opening faculty meeting.  Roberto put in a new outlet by my nightstand; I left once they came in.  Of course, once I got to campus, he texted me wondering where the paint was.  D’oh!, I thought.  I had to get back on the subway, walk to my place, go to the storage unit that housed the paint, and bring it to him.  Fortunately, I was able to make the session on time, and my chair was understanding about this issue.  As per my previous post, if a sick child is a valid enough reason to be late, a home issue should be as well.

Things did get a bit surreal when I entered and left the Van Ness-UDC station on the Red Line.  I used to live right there, five minutes from campus.  Now, I was commuting there with the rest of the suburbanites, with the Washington Post app on my phone ($1 a month for the “educator rate”) to keep me company.  I was reading an article about how JD Vance isn’t actually pro-family.  My righteous indignation was interrupted by the loudspeaker blaring “Van Ness – UDC.”  It hit the moment I exited the train and entered the platform.  I no longer live here, I thought.  After the session ended and I waited for the arriving train, it hit again.  This stop is where I used to exit to go home.  Now, it’s just the start, I thought.  But, when I entered my place, and Chester gave me that look that said, “Treats! Now, human!”, I knew I was home.

Parenthood is much-revered in our world, at least in theory.  Think about all the money that goes into baby showers, and many countries (rightfully) give parents paid time off to care for children.  And I’m on a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee; we had a discussion on whether to advocate for building pump stations for the many single parents our school has among its student population. 

I’m all for it; I think single parenting is the most badass thing a person can do.  And even with a partner, parenting is hard (maybe harder for some).  I respect the challenges parents face.  But as a childfree by choice person, I see inequities in the way employers treat parents compared those without kids, whether they be childless or childfree (there is a difference).

One doesn’t have to read the news deeply to see how much of a firestorm JD Vance’s comments about “miserable childless cat ladies” has made these last few weeks.  I’m a childFREE cat guy who stands with childless and childfree cat ladies.  Yet I do leave myself open to microaggressions, like in this bingo card.

I’ll share one example.  I commented on how tired I was one morning, and a colleague said, “I was up at five this morning because of my kid!  You don’t know what tired is!”  So I wasn’t allowed to be tired, even though the cause was not a crying baby?

But I suspected I wasn’t the only childfree person in higher education.  And in a world where Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion is a major part of our conversation, being without child, whether by choice or by circumstance, should be a part of these discussions.  I put out a call on the Higher Ed Learning Collective for: 1) institutional policies that allow parents certain privileges that people who are childfree/childless don’t receive; or 2) any microaggressions they may have received, whether on the card or not.  These are some patterns I noticed:

Scheduling preferences
Oftentimes, parents get preference in the times they teach because they “have families” due to the assumption that the childfree/childless don’t have lives outside of work or the thought that their personal lives aren’t as busy or as important.  Many faculty reported some variation of this experience.
 
Free/Reduced Tuition
Many universities provide free tuition for the children of employees.  I love this benefit.  However, one person indicated when they proposed discounted tuition for their niece, she received no response.  Another person appeared to have read my mind when they proposed that those without children should have the option of sponsoring a scholarship for a student.  If this isn’t “skin in the game,” I don’t know what is.
 
Obligatory Baby Shower Contributions
A few people wrote this, which made me very happy. I’m all for giving a few dollars as a congratulatory gift.  After all, giving birth is a major milestone for some people.  But why didn’t get a party when I got tenure?  When I received promotion (without tenure) at my previous university, a colleague gave me a $25 gift card to the Cinemark.  But when our department secretary announced her pregnancy, everybody had to contribute a monetary gift and attend a potluck shower. I was relatively junior at the time, so I didn’t say anything about the inequity.  With tenure, I might be more inclined to do so. 
 
Microaggressions
A few faculty received comments on the bingo card such as “You’ll change your mind” and “it’s different when they’re your own.”  Some even confessed to being asked to take on additional service work because “you have no kids at home.  “You’re obviously free.”
 
Miscellaneous
These weren’t as common, but it’s important to note:

1. One person’s institution, a private Catholic university, deposited $500 annually into a dependent care spending account for employees with eligible dependents.  Those without kids didn’t get anything.
2. In one department, having a sick child was a valid reason to miss a meeting.  Being sick yourself, not so much.
3. The university’s insurance covering a faculty member’s child, but not birth control, which is a cornerstone of reproductive rights.
4. In one school, faculty without children are required to pay higher health insurance to support those with kids.
5. A single and childfree person could get two free tickets to any campus event (theater, music, sporting events), but if they had a family, they could get as many tickets as needed.  Note: that was scaled back to two tickets per faculty member.

Of note: there are some cases where it’s beneficial for some: One person, a self-described “night owl” who preferred teaching between 4 and 10 p.m., took evening slots and was appreciated by her “childed colleagues.”

Some hope for the future exists in our classrooms.  A Gerontology professor I spoke with has regularly faced criticism for being childfree yet teaching courses in Human Development.  In her words, a speech pathology professor doesn’t need to have had a stroke in order to understand the science of how it affects speech patterns.  As part of her pedagogy, she teaches students about the difference between “childless” and “childfree.”

The childfree/childless population should be included as part of our DEI conversations.  Many people are unable to have children, and there can be trauma associated with it.  And there are people who just don’t want to have children; their reasons are nobody’s business.  And if lifestyle choices can be rewarded (i.e., additional insurance benefits for a spouse), then the choice not to have children should be considered as well.  Students who may not have children can benefit from this knowledge.

I always appreciate allyship from parents. One academic mother had some excellent advice for the childfree/childless to achieve equity: create a baby in your mind.  In other words, have some reason you cannot do something they’re asking.  For me, it’s my cat.  In my mind, if this colleague can pick up their human kiddo, I should be able to take my cat to his veterinarian’s appointment or be around to give him his medications, which need to be timed every twelve hours. 

Nobody’s challenged me yet.  And if they ever do, I’ll direct them here.  After all, I am a Dad to this cat.

I don’t usually wear shirts with political slogans.  But JD Vance’s comments about childless cat ladies hit a nerve with me, being as how I’m essentially a childFREE cat lady with male organs.  I shouldn’t have spent the money on that shirt; I’d already forked down thousands of dollars on home repairs and renovations.  But I couldn’t not, especially while my amygdala was taking the driver’s seat (probably not the best time to make major decisions, but that’s what it is).
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The shirt made its way to my door on Saturday, so I was wearing it on Sunday.  I’d gone down to the Dupont Circle area to meet a friend.  While on the subway, nobody even gave it a second look.  Once I exited to the platform, I made like a peacock and raised my feathers.  One woman smiled at me.

Before meeting my friend, I walked around the Farmer’s Market (best Farmer’s Market I’ve ever been to, by the way).  One woman looked at it and said, “We do!” I gave a thumbs up with a tight fist, the best thumbs-up ever, IMHO.  A few more smiles.  A couple of askance looks (we do get a lot of tourists).  And one woman selling jewelry asked me where I got the shirt and commented, “That came out quickly!”  Sadly, there was no merch that caught my fancy. My friend liked my shirt, and we caught up.

Later that afternoon, I made my way back to Bethesda, where I did my weekly grocery shop.  The city is very political.  The suburbs, not so much.  I did a smile from a teenage girl with her mother (future Childfree?) and another lady in the parking lot.  The man with the wife and kid looked briefly, but then looked away.  Discomfort, maybe?

I’ve written about Singles Studies for years, but the primal part of me likes to gauge the reactions of everyday folks when I respond, “I’m happily solo” to the “Are you married?” question and “I’m Childfree by Choice” to the “Do you have kids?” question.  Sometimes, said responses met with a stammer (“OH, ummm, uhhhh, ok”) or appreciative laughter.  I got a “cool” once after a pause.  I was bingoed by a waitress once back in May (“But you’ll die alone”), but after a pause, I gently corrected her (“Don’t ever ask someone why they don’t have kids”).  She was apologetic about it, and I resisted the urge to write “Read about singlism” in that line that read “Tip.”  She got her 20%.

I have a “Purrrroud to be a Childless Cat Guy” on its way as well.  I’m aware the correct term is childfree, but I feel I can take back that word from Vance, much like single women are doing with the term “spinster.”

I didn't think this display would turn into a blog post, but they say "Write what you know."  So there.
 

I never write about what I do on International Childfree Day, but given JD Vance’s recent comments, which explicitly disparaged women without kids, I felt it was appropriate.
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I was up at 5:30; I had brought Chester into my new home the evening before.  He’d been staying with Grandma over the past couple of months while I went through all the fun associated with moving; the transition would have been way too chaotic for him. 

Chester’s pretty much taken over the couch; in essence, he said, “You sit on the recliner now!”  I’d made an appointment with 1-800-GOT-JUNK to discard a door and some blinds left by the previous owner, as well as an old bedframe that was tossed to the side in favor of a new one.  There was another one with a blinds installer, who was able to get me in thanks to a rescheduled appointment.  Now the place feels complete.

On the work front, I was certified in Quality Matters (QM), a program that oversees the design of online, asynchronous college courses, which are more popular than ever.  At my school, all such courses are required to be QM-compliant; I’m teaching such a course.  I spent much of the spring designing it, and I submitted it in July.  After receiving feedback, I spent much of the morning revising it – all for the benefit of students who did not spring from my loins.

On the personal front, I heard from Steph, one of my fellow childfree soldiers, who wished me a Happy Childfree Day with this lovely meme:

I might have liked to see at least one picture of a single person, but hey, progress is progress.  Matt, also childfree, invited me to trek up to Baltimore to see a free performance from a group called Pigeons Playing Ping Pong.  Pete had proposed this a month earlier, but I’m involved in a nonprofit that helps the homeless; we have our business meeting the first Thursday of every month.  As far as I know, I’m not responsible for any of their births either.  But I do help them.  If that’s not a stake in the future, I don’t know what is.  Hear that, JD?
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After a jog and a nice lunch, I went down to the library to borrow a copy of Adam Sandler’s 50 First Dates.  The only reason I’d watch it is for research on my book on film tropes involving singlehood, which this film most likely has in spades.  My hope is that this book will help people view pro-romance and anti-single tropes in film more critically.  I’d say that’s skin in the game.
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Later that night, I talked with fellow childfree friend and singles crusader Christina of Onely.  It was a deep conversation in which we helped each other with some personal issues.  Pretty unselfish if you ask me.

I also had a nice dinner of leftover chicken tikka misala from nearby Commonwealth Indian Restaurant.  I’ve gotten some nice garlic naan at Whole Foods to round it out.  During the meal, Chester gave me that look that said, “Give me treats, human!”  I did so.  Taking care of a cat that some family abandoned once they popped out a child: well, I’d say that’s pretty selfless.

Last year, I became an organizer for a group called Childfree Singles of the DMV.  I took a break this summer while I was immersed in moving, but when I saw a lady named April make a Happy Childfree Day announcement to her Annapolis-based group, I followed suit. From there, I organized a Meetup for September at a Filipino restaurant called Purple Patch, recommended to me by my good friend Mark.  Such gatherings provide a safe space for childfree people in a world that stigmatizes them. I’ve formed friendships with others and have seen some of these folks do the same with each other.  Who knew that a single, childfree person cared enough about society to try to bring people together!?

And now for something lighthearted: during my trip to Giant Food, I passed by someone in an aisle, and right after saying excuse me, I said, "Happy Childfree Day." I figured it's appropriate given how many people have said "Happy Father's Day" to me, assuming I’m father of human children.

When I went to Whole Foods, I said the same thing to the cashier there.  She said, “Thank you.”  I don’t know if she knew about it or was just being polite.  But I think we should normalize doing so.  So I’ll be doing that next August 1 as well.

My next piece will be about how we should have a Childfree March next August 1.  Stay tuned…

​In my book, How to be a Happy Bachelor, I cited Lindsey Graham as a famous single person.  Tim Scott was decried by his fellow Republicans for being single, probably because it’s more socially acceptable for them to put his marital status down than it is for his race.  So I’ve always thought of Happy Singlehood as a nonpartisan issue.
 
I’ve been speculating that eventually, the laws that discriminate against singles will change as more and more people go the nonmarital route.  I didn’t think it would happen during my lifetime, but I’ll do my part to help change those laws. 
 
Thanks to the comments of a JD Vance, that might change quicker than we thought.  I didn’t know much about him when Trump picked him to be his running mate, and as is typical in the high-profile world of politics, all the old dirt came up on him.  For example, he had decried Trump a few years earlier.  The fact that he’s running with him and embracing his policies just speaks to his own hypocrisy.
 
But, the one that has all my social media feeds abuzz is what he said about “childless cat ladies” running the country.  The memes about proud childless cat ladies, childless dog ladies, supporters of childless cat ladies, started to flicker.  I started posting “I Stand with Childless Cat Ladies” on Facebook.
 
And then Biden stepped down, which I felt was a good thing. He immediately endorsed Kamala Harris, his VP, whom Vance had foolishly referred to as one of the “childless cat ladies,” even though she is a stepmother.  Pete Buttigieg and his husband have a son.  George Washington, one of our the United States’s founders, was also a stepparent. 
 
That said, in the few days since Harris has been the favorite for VP nominee, those memes spread quite rapidly.  I was particularly pleased to see this article in Ms. Magazine.  There was also this nice Opinion piece in The New York Times.  In fact, the backlash was so big Vance needed to respond to it.  And he just sounded even dumber this time. 
 
I’ve always tried to keep my politics out of this blog, but Singles Studies is a very political field, much like most other fields of study.  And Vance’s comments attack our ilk, no matter where you’re at on the spectrum.  The good thing is that his comments have garnered so much hatred, even from parents, that the childfree life is gaining widespread notice and support.  Some of that support is coming from parents.  This is because, well, mothers are women, and his comment is not only disparaging of childfree life, but the underlying message “a woman’s place is in the home and with her kids,” an outdated idea.
 
For the record, I’m not anti-family.  But I do believe family can take on many different meanings.  A family can consist of a man, a woman, and a child (or more than one child).  It can consist of an uncle and two nieces.  An aunt and a nephew.  Two friends.  A person and a cat (or dog).  But Vance’s definition of family is sadly limiting, and my hope is that his comment will raise awareness that the childfree life is just fine.  I’ve known some left-leaning folks that don’t quite get that either, so if they want to be aligned with the equity that comes with Harris’s campaign, they’ll have to accept that others may not necessarily follow their path.
 
A final note: I’ve always advocated for the term “childFREE” as opposed to “childless” to refer to people who don’t want kids.  But I recently ordered a shirt that says “Purroud Childless Cat Guy.”  I feel it’s good to take that term from people like Vance.  I’ll still use the former, but I’ll wear a shirt with the latter.  To quote Vance, it’s sarcasm.
 
I stand with Childfree Cat Ladies.  And Dog Ladies.  And Cat Men.  And Dog Men.  Anybody who’s for equity really.

​On Friday, June 28, 2024, I spent my first night at my new home, and as I type this, in my guest bedroom/office, on the desk I built myself, I’m mostly moved in.
 
For me, the “setting up the new area” is the fun part.  I had a tough time getting motivated to put in my bedsheets after spending most of the day working with the movers, but hey, I had to sleep somewhere, right?  The Internet installers weren’t scheduled to come in until the next morning, so I spent the night horizontal on the couch, watching a DVD of Jimi Hendrix’s Woodstock performance on my laptop.
 
Once the Internet was installed, I upgraded to watching The Wonder Years reboot on Netflix.  And when I found a power strip, a DVD of Brooklyn’s Finest.  The next few days were spent unpacking boxes and some rudimentary exploring of the area.  This included my first major grocery shop, getting gas, a Dunkin’ run, a few trips to Ace Hardware for a power drill and Velcro strips, returning of an old modem to Xfinity, and giving an old set of baseball cards to a kid.
 
I thought it would be jarring to suddenly travel to Boston in the midst of all this work, but it proved to be a nice break.  I got to see Bella, Joan, Elyakim, Karen, Elizabeth, Donna, Kate, Geoff, Ketaki, and a bunch of my fellow Singles Studies scholars/writers/activists.  The trip could have been marred by that power outage in New Haven, which kept me from boarding the Amtrak, but since Chester was staying with his Mom in New York, I ended up cancelling the train trip and hopping a bus to the Big Apple.  That Sunday was well-spent with Chester, especially the many naps I took throughout the day.  I hadn’t realized how exhausting that solo move really is.  Then add the trip to it.
 
Now, to showcase my lack of handiness:
 
1 – I did put together a nice writer’s desk for my office.  It said “We recommend two people for assembly.” Yeah, my left buttock! 
2 – I shouldn’t have gotten so cocky.  I bought some towel hooks for my door, which came with screws and drill bits.  Unfortunately, I just couldn’t make any kind of hole in the door, which messed with the paint some.  So I tried to mount it on with Velcro, which didn’t hold it on and just messed the paint up.  Next, I bought hooks with Velcro.  They didn’t work, and messed the paint up even more.  So I called a TaskRabbit.  Lesson learned.
 
At any rate, my game of Box Jenga (as Christina put it) ended in my storage space, as I got rid of most of the boxes, unpacked most of my items, and just left some things I don’t necessarily need but just can’t read it of (some jackets containing CDs) in my storage space.
 
And I got “welcomed” by an act of G-d.  On Tuesday, July 16, at about 9 a.m., I was writing in my office when I heard a vibrating thud from the master bedroom.  What’d I mess up this time? I said.  When I walked in, I saw a huge tree branch sticking through my ceiling.  It had come through the roof and knocked out a blade on my ceiling fan.  Fortunately, the on-site handypeople patched the roof up, and the condo agreed to replace my fan and drywall/paint the ceiling.  As I type, we’re waiting on the fan.  So I have a nice hole in the ceiling where that fan blade used to be.  Funny enough, I didn’t go completely ballistic.  My reaction was a muted, Oh, shit.
 
I’m just glad I’m only responsible for the inside; if I had a traditional family and lived in a single-family home, I’d have had to call a roofer, and in transit, possibly move the bed and my nice area rug.  Then, I’d have to put a bucket on the floor to catch any rain, as we had some remarkable thunderstorms last night.
 
I love my condo life. 

​Moving into a new home as a SALA (Single and Living Alone) is freeing, but man oh man, is it exhausting!  You do everything yourself. 
 
And so the International Singles Studies Association Conference couldn’t have come at a better time.  The train ride to Boston was uneventful, just how I like it.  And those solo train trips – I can’t get enough of those.  Reading (I Don’t: The Case Against Marriage) and viewing (the pro-single Muriel’s Wedding) also made the trip fun.
 
After a wonky sleep at the Airbnb, the alarm on the phone told me it was 6 a.m. and time to rise.  I was about to see my fellow crusaders, though, so I figured sleep could wait.  I wasn’t too pumped about the rain, but I braved it to get to the T.  My New York Mets hat did earn me a few stares on the ride to Arlington.  My thought on that, “We have a common enemy.  I hate Yankees fans too!  We should be friends!”
 
After my requisite Boston Crème donut and coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts, I met up with Joan, Karen, Donna, and Elizabeth at the hotel, where I couldn’t help but stare at Karen’s Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon (sadly, home renovation expenses forced me to be satisfied with aforementioned donut and coffee). 
 
My temptation to order that dish as a second breakfast (Lord of the Rings reference!) was interrupted by the need to be at the Boylston Room for the first talk of the day.  There, I got to see Elyakim, and in addition to meeting Donna for the first time, I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Geoff MacDonald and Kate Fama, whom I’d only seen on those Brady Brunchesque squares of Zoom.
 
I was enthralled to learn there were three concurrent sessions, up from the one that took place when Ketaki and I organized the inaugural conference back in 2020 (it seems like so long ago).  Conversely, I was bummed I had to miss others, but I did get to hear Donna and Joan’s stories of singlehood, Elizabeth’s literary analyses of Ottessa Moshfegh's My Year of Rest and Relaxation and Jhumpa Lahiri's Whereabouts, two pieces that will now have to be on my reading list.  And I got that usual adrenaline rush that came from presenting my piece.  It was the same on Mrs. Maisel, but it’s good to try it out on different audiences.  And I’m working on new some material as we speak.
 
I had a second presentation on one of the entirely virtual rooms.  Unfortunately, the Wifi information the hotel gave me wasn’t accurate (limited resources for us singles, indeed!), but I did find a table at the adjacent Starbucks, where I attended a talk from Giora Ashkenazi about single gay men’s partner-seeking habits.  Not surprisingly, the “fear of loneliness” and “fear of being single” scales came up quite a bit.
 
I gave my presentation on “How to be Single and Happy” and had the privilege of sharing the stage with Ketaki, as well as Naomi Cahn, Bobbie Spellman, and Kaiponanea Mastumura, who are developing a course on Singlehood and the Law, a course I would sign up for in a heartbeat, even without the required law school prerequisites.  The ensuing discussion about family law and how Singles Studies fits into that were enthralled, and I was honored that Naomi asked me to share my How to be Single and happy course materials.
 
I did head back to my Airbnb in East Boston (also known as “Eastie,” a term I learned from Karen), where I was able to catch a power nap before the last session of the day, in which Donna, Bella, and Christine Erickson spoke about initiatives happening: Donna advocating for single women without children and Christine’s work on a counter to the pronatalism movement.  And, of course, Bella’s close: reflections on her work in Singles Studies.
 
I headed back to the hotel for the happy hour, where I saw Kate, Joan, Bella, Erin, Kelly, and Elyakim, where all kinds of topics came up.  Singles Studies, of course, but also politics (PLEASE VOTE THIS FALL!) and traveling.  The conversation continued over dinner at nearby French Quarter (nothing like New Orleans-style food in Boston).  Topics: politics, tax and financial problems among couples (shout-out again to Karen, the accountant in the house), and inequities in health care. 
 
As an introvert, my social battery drains quickly, particularly at night, but I was willing to brave it to hang with my fellow crusaders.  Nonetheless, I was happy once back in my room with my music.
 
The next morning, I got out of bed to see my phone read “8:51,” the latest I’d woken up in weeks.  After a solo jog around Eastie, I headed to South Station, had a breakfast sandwich, and sat down to read the day’s Boston Globe.  Then, I heard about the power outage in New Haven, which kept all trains between Boston and New York in lockdown.  The announcement said the “estimated time” they’d be back up was 3 p.m., but as a solo who loves train travel, I know better.  I immediately got a refund and hopped a Greyhound bus to New York.
 
That would have been much harder with a partner or family in tow.  We would have had to discuss, wait, discuss more, and we probably would have had to stay the night.  In my case, I was able to drop off in New York to see Chester, who’s been staying with his Grandma while I’m in the moving process. 
 
Writing has gone on the back burner since I’ve been in the moving process, but conferences are always reinvigorating.  So I’m resolving to start each day with some writing, just to set the mood.

​I’m typing this from my closer-to-empty apartment, eight days away from officially moving.  And the past month has been like “basic training” with respect to repairs, which is par for the course for a homeowner.
 
About a month ago, the light bulb from a fixture in my kitchen went out.  All I needed to do was pull up the building’s app on my phone, fill in the order, and 24 hours later, it was done.  Since I have recessed lights that are meant to last for ten years, that’s probably not an issue.  But, if my refrigerator, for example, happens to go, I can’t just pull up an app.  I have to find someone who repairs them and either: A) pony up the costs for repair; or B) do the research on a new refrigerator, order it, and pay for it and have someone install it (I’m not handy enough to do those things).
 
This past month has been a whirlwind of interviewing contractors, reviewing estimates, having contractors not show up, having contractors promising estimates and not following through with them, that good feeling of finally finding a reliable, effective contractor, and, of course, that back-and-forth between DC and North Bethesda.  That said, I do get my step count up as a result of that 10-minute walk between the Metro stop and my place.
 
First, I found an amazing handyman, Roberto, whom I’ve recommended to two people thus far.  I continue to be surprised that so many others don’t respond; you’d think that they’d want business, but, I’ve learned it’s a “contractor’s market.”  Some jobs are just too small; I just wish people would be more transparent about it.  But it felt great to connect with someone reliable and skilled.
 
Painting was also interesting to watch as it progressed.  I can understand why some people might like to get high off paint fumes; it’s quite the aroma.  And I have a bunch of paint cans in one of my closets; if I ever want to touch it up, it’s there.  All I need are some rollers and/or brushes (I helped somebody paint a yoga studio many years ago, so I’m a bit rusty on the DIY tools needed).
 
I had a short trip to New York, where I had the opportunity to learn from my Mom, home decorator extraordinaire, about what kinds of furniture and decorations would go with my colors. So we took trips to Homegoods, Blinds to Go, and Bob’s.  I learn best kinesthetically, so I needed to actually sit/lay down on the furniture.  She also recommended Wayfair for smaller furniture; I’ve been seeing some good stuff.
 
Christina’s blue wagon is also a G-dsend; I’ve used it to wheel bulkier items from my apartment to my car to my condo.  At this point, my storage space resembles Box Jenga (a phrase from Christina), but it will subside once painting is done and some of the bigger furniture can be moved in.  At that point, I can start arranging.
 
A month in, lots of renovations have happened, and the place is starting to feel like mine.  The next step: decorations and moving.  Some things I’ve learned:
 
1)It’s tough to find a good contractor.  But it’s great when you do.  And treat them well.  They can decide whether or not they want to work with you.  Always have water available; snacks are good, too.  Mine got those Popcorners.
2)Even though I’m not living there yet, I am starting to feel more “connected.”  I say hi to people and smile a bit more at others.  Perhaps that comes when the place is yours?
 
The next piece in this series will come in August, three months into homeownership.