I have to give Lisa Vita credit for this post. For so long, politicians have been using the word “family” to emphasize the importance of what they do, especially Democrats. If I had a nickel for every time President Joe Biden mentioned the importance of “working families,” I wouldn’t even need to work.
Fortunately, Bella’s offered up a lot of Tweets in which she responded to these progressives making mention of the fact that individuals should be included in their plans. I think they do mean “people,” but why say “families” when they mean “people?” Is there some kind of expectation that we’re not aware of?
Fortunately, thanks to Lisa, I had the opportunity to research Stephanie Schmidt. Born and raised in Bergen County, New Jersey (just a few feet from the New York suburb where I grew up, and also where I lived for a year for my life), Stephanie appears to be a model for single women – well, women. Actually, people, no matter what the gender! She’s traveled the world, interacted with political leaders, and owns her home in Little Silver, New Jersey. In that last paragraph of the profile where the politicians typically mention the spouse/children, she discusses hobbies, including cooking for family and friends. Sounds like she’s living a full live outside of work!
Most noteworthy are recent Tweets where she actually advocates for fellow singles, like this one:
This is 2021, not 1950. 50.2% of adults are single today vs. 22% in 1950. It’s time we stop reflexively legislating from a 1950s assumption of what the American family/household/lived experience looks like, particularly when it comes to economic & tax policy.
Amen! I wrote a piece a few years ago about how politicians will eventually pay attention to singles due to the projected decline in marriage, although it may take a few generations for that to take effect. My hope is that pioneers like Schmid will ultimately quicken that process. After all, why does a married couple deserve $2,800 as opposed to $1,400 for an individual? They’re already splitting things like rent and mortgage. A single person doesn’t get to “pay half rent” as “LovinLife” said. So why should we get half the money?
I’m only saddened that I found out about her campaign; I would have chipped in some money to help. Definitely next time, though!
I’m part of a number of non-singles Facebook groups, and the holidays brings “cuffing season,” and with that has been coming a lot of posts complaining about how hard dating is, along with dating horror stories.
Having dated, I can identify and empathize. And I used to get into relationships that I had no business being in because I had bought into the societal narrative that I “needed” to have a partner, or at least be looking for one. Then I had an epiphany, largely due in part to the Community of Single People page and how it was shaping me.
Why? Why do we “need” to be dating? The idea of “marrying for love” didn’t even come about until fairly recently; before that, marriage was a business arrangement. Some of the happiest people I know don’t date and are totally fine with it. And some people date but don’t have the expectation that it’s going to “go anywhere,” which, in my opinion, is the healthiest way to do it.
I undertook a no-dating challenge for 90 days after my last breakup, back in 2017. I found that during those 90 days, I felt happier and more serene than I’d ever been, and I was working on me. That ninety days has “sort of” turned into four years, with a few dates sprinkled in, and I’ve found that it was a lot happier because I had done a lot of work on myself and had learned that being single isn’t this disease society wants us to believe it is.
And this leads me to my proposal: I think every singleton who has a habit of dating or being in a relationship should undertake a Ninety-Day No-Dating Challenge. Stop trying to put your happiness in the hands of another person; it’s not fair to them or to you. Focus on you. Engage in hobbies. Spend time with friends and family. Binge a Netflix series by yourself. Go to a restaurant, movie, or even a museum by yourself. Travel. These are the things that truly liberate us.
Know that I’m not against dating or relationships (I may even do it again myself one day). But this challenge reset my mental patterns around it, in that I’ll do because I want to, not because I have to. And I’m a lot happier as a result. You can be too. Contact me for more details about how to go about it.
To say 2020 was a rough, strange year is an understatement. As an introvert, when they first told us to “stay home” at the beginning of the pandemic, I thought, what’s the catch? The host of Breaking Pod, a podcast on Breaking Bad, even said, “For an introvert who lives alone, this must be heaven.” But even I need to get out and interact once in a while.
Which brings me to New Year’s Eve traditions. The last time I spent it alone was 2003/2004, and that was because I had to catch an early flight to Israel on New Year’s Day. Normally, NYE might be spent at a concert or with friends, but because I’m being cautious due to the pandemic, I elected to spend it alone. There was a brief conversation on Zoom with some fellow CoSPers, which was interrupted by my delivery of some Indian tapas.
I watched a movie, The Music Never Stopped, finished binging the first season of Community on Netflix, began to learn the Grateful Dead’s “Till the Morning Comes,” and watched a bit of Anderson Cooper’s New Year’s Countdown on CNN before settling in.
When I announced my plans on CoSP, someone said that they typically do that alone and that they’re governed by social norms. As much as I’d love to say the same thing, I guess there’s some conditioning I still have. That being said, next year, if there’s a band I love playing on NYE in New York or DC or somewhere in between, I’ll probably make plans to see them. Still, it was nice to just treat NYE like a regular evening in with Chester.
Here’s to a better 2021 for all of us!
Saturdays have become routinized for me since my move to DC. Jog, buy romaine lettuce from farmer’s market, intermittent fasting while I grade papers, Netflix, and/or write. But with the COVID-19 rates predicted to surge and the cold weather coming, I’m planning on becoming a hermit this winter. So I’m trying to get outside while the weather still cooperatives. With that in mind, I had enjoyed some witty banter with my good friend Misti, whom I know from CoSPers, so I proposed brunch.
After a jog, I rode my Bikeshare from my place down to Woodley Park and walked to Mission, where I met up with Misti for an outdoor Mexican brunch. I had been craving a breakfast burrito, but after hearing Misti order breakfast quesadillas with chorizo, those seemed too good to pass up. And I devoured them with gusto.
Of course, the food wasn’t the highlight of the outing; the conversation was. Misti commented on how our young, Gen-Z waitress, Erin, probably uses Instagram regularly. Erin’s utterance of having eaten some Swedish Fish and jalapeno-flavored kettle chips confirmed that assumption. The dance music brought me back to my clubbing days in my 20s, and the Gen-Zs next to us in their costumes and heavy makeup added to it.
We saw a giant Great Dane named Clifford, who came up to us with his owner for petting, and a cute bird who pecked at the crumbs on the ground, both of whom I greeted with “Hellwooo, Chester.” Conversational topics included author platforms (Instagram over Twitter!), how human energy is lacking on Zoom meetups, DIYs in the house, and the concept of a “handyperson hub,” as Peter McGraw discussed on his latest Solo podcast, and the fact that when they told us to “stay home” at the beginning of the pandemic, both of us thought, sure!
Introverts, unite in your separate homes.
On the walk/bike ride home, I stocked up on carby treats for the winter: a whole-wheat everything bagel and piece of coffee cake from Bethesda Bagels (along with a coffee for the walk home), and two cake pops from Baked by Yael.
All in all, a kickass outing with a kickass friend.
I joked I’d be missing the first of the Biden-Cheeto debate because I had a song to learn on my guitar. I don’t regret it, but I felt like I needed to be “a part of” things after hearing about all the commotion (“Will you shut up, man!?”), so I watched the Harris-Pence exchange during which that fly was literally drawn to shit when appearing on Pence’s head, and then came a more “civil” exchange between Biden and Trump in Nashville. During both debates, I heard all of the candidates refer to “American families.” The constant mention of the word “family” in political rhetoric has become a pet peeve of mine since I began my work in Singles Studies. I mean, what, individuals don’t count?
However, during the Biden-Trump debate, I had a thought: maybe, in this context, it’s best for me to let that one slide. While we in CoSP as well as those in major cities and on the coasts tend to be more enlightened when it comes to issues of singlism and familism, that’s probably not true for folks in the heartland (the Midwest, the South), even if they do consider themselves liberal, and especially, if they’re undecided. So in order to conquer the great Orange Empire, the good people probably need to use language that those folks are familiar with in order to get their votes. Plus, Biden and Harris are a lot more teachable when it comes to these issues, particularly Harris, who gave multiple definitions of how family operates at her speech at the Democratic National Convention this past August.
Sometimes, we have to make sacrifices in order to achieve a bigger purpose, like with pawns in a chess match. If it helps to move our world’s thinking forward, I’m willing to put my peeves aside (especially since the opposition thinks like it’s 1935). Besides, my son/cat Chester and I are a family unit.
I earned my Ph.D. on May 2, 2014. If you had walked up to me on that day and told me that one day, I’d be co-organizing a Singles Studies Conference, I would probably give you a side-eye. But life has its surprises for sure.
Ketaki Chowkhani and I and spent some time writing up a CFP, looking at proposals, communicating with correspondents, promoting, and performing all kinds of other administrative tasks we academics hate doing. But it was all in a good cause. There were challenges and twists, the details of which not need be mentioned here, but we pulled through.
I had some anxiety the day before. What if my Internet stops working? What if I mess something up? But I found an evening with Netflix and a good night’s sleep helped a lot.
I woke up the morning of and did my usual routine: meditation, stretches, breakfast, and I added coffee to the mix. I logged on at about 8 a.m. EST to see that we already had thirty people signed in. I was quite impressed to see that all the presenters, no matter what time they were scheduled to present, were on before the festivities started and they stayed on the entire time. I was particularly impressed at those who logged on late and stayed on until morning (Laura Dales, I’m talking to you especially).
Bella’s keynote set the stage for the conference, and I thought it was a good primer for the validity of Singles Studies as a discipline – Singles Studies 101. Adriana Savu provided what I thought was a very interesting linguistic breakdown of the word “single” as it is used in Romanian culture. Laura examined the plight of single women in Japan. Lots of questions emanated from those two talks; mine was, “I wonder why divorced women in Japan are more than likely to marry than men. The research I’ve read suggests the opposite.”
In the next session on “Singlehood and Space,” Nora Kottman examined the living spaces of single Japanese women, which brought me back to Eric Klinenberg’s Going Solo, which had me wanting to advocate for more solo-occupancy dwellings, which may become more commonplace as marital rates continue to decline. Paromita Chakravarti examined single women’s residencies in hostels in Kolkata, India, which had me thinking of my observations of the badasses who hostel-hop. While I like the privacy afforded by AirBnBs, I do dig the “adventurer” vibe that comes from the singles who’ve populated the hostels I’ve stayed in.
The next panel was on Singlehood and Literature, which appeals to my inner English major. Katherine Fama analyzed Edith Wharton’s work as having a substantial connection with singles studies per her Wharton’s depictions of divorcees and widows in her work. Joan DelFattore analyzed Wit, a play about a single professor who is depicted in terms of singlist stereotypes.
I gave my presentation on how the nuclear family is prioritized in pharmaceutical advertisements, and Katherine’s comment about a Bechdel test for singlism gave me an idea to develop an instrument to create such a test. Saumya Sharma critically analyzed the discourse presented to singles on Valentine’s Day (which I typically celebrate by doing fun “singly” things).
Finally, Dominika Ochnik conducted an empirical study on satisfaction related to singlehood, and Elyakim Kislev, author of Happy Singlehood, in which we discussed the finding that singles have more social networks, which is correlated with happiness.
I couldn’t engage with the presentations as much as I would have liked due to doing some behind-the-scenes administrative responsibilities, but I’m glad as hell these conversations happened. And I got some great ideas from the conversations and presentations. And I look forward to Ketaki and I turning this conference into an essay collection.
My favorite part: living my fun solo life with a jog, a bike ride, and a solo (outdoor) dining experience out with some Italian food at a lovely restaurant called Tesoro’s on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, DC (they didn’t sponsor this post).
Last year, I blogged about my activities for each day of this delightful week devoted to us singletons. This year, since I’m adjusting to a new job in a pandemic (and I spent most of my time inside), I’m just writing one blog posting.
I’ve recently moved to Washington, DC, a VERY singles-friendly environment. Sunday was the most interesting. I met up with a new friend, Joe, a singleton, and we checked out the memorial to recently deceased Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. The flowers and notes brought goosebumps to my skin.
Joe is an extrovert and highly knowledgeable in all things DC-related (I guess living year for a decade will do that), so he pointed out all the cool sights, such as The Library of Congress and Mitch McConnell’s house, which we saw two other people flip off.
The work week was action-packed, involving teaching and me getting to know my students. Some highlights: a presentation on low-stakes writing instruction for faculty in different disciplines, which was successful. I also got a nice email from one of the attendees, a psychology professor, who asked me to be a guest speaker on the topic of writing anxiety, my dissertation topic (which I revisited in planning for the presentation). And Ketaki and I exchanged correspondence on our upcoming Singles Studies Conference.
I’ve been doing some solo exploration of my city too (well, as much as could be done during the pandemic). I recently got a Capital Bikeshare membership, which only cost me $25 for the year thanks to my city employee discount, so I’m riding a few times a week. It’s quite the rush riding in city traffic.
Watching Premium Rush Saturday night indulged my fantasy about being a bike messenger (even though I could never weave through traffic like the people in that movie), which I followed with The Warriors, a guilty pleasure. While written, acted, and directed stiffly, I still enjoy those grungy New York City locales in that movie. I also rewatched the first season of Cobra Kai now that it’s on Netflix (even though I’m one of the few that watched it on YouTube Red) , that Karate Kid sequel that shows Daniel and Johnny as three-dimensional characters.
On the culinary front, I reheated some mac and cheese I had made the week before with some cut-up bratwurst for my Friday cheat. Saturday’s a fasting day, but I bought some romaine lettuce and a giant green pepper at the farmer’s market that takes place every Saturday morning less than a block from where I live. That pepper will get cut up with a remaining piece of bratwurst, both of which will be placed on a club roll, for my Sunday cheat.
For my Saturday cheat, I devoured a pair of crispy spring rolls and a chicken Banh Mi sandwich from Viet Chops, one of two Pho places within a half-mile radius of my domicile. Each week, I try a new restaurant. I start in Van Ness, my neighborhood, and work my way out. I also felt the need to get a pair of cupcakes from the Red Velvet Cupcakery, up on the DC/Chevy Chase border. I thought I could only get one, but that didn’t happen. Limiting to two is good for me. After dinner, I thought I’d only have the Southern Belle (ostensibly a red velvet cupcake), but after about an hour, I felt the Peanut Butter Cup calling my name. It went well with coffee. Ehhh, I’d be lifting weights and biking the next day.
Oh, and I got a ticket to see the Yonder Mountain String Band, the recap of which will go on my Not Enough Concerts blog. While the weather's still nice, I'd like to spend as much as time as possible outdoors before I essentially become a hermit this winter.
And, all the while, Chester was grabbing at my leg and saying, “It’s time to give me treats, human!” I did what the cat said.
Now that I’m in singles-friendly DC, where a number of us members of Community of Single People (CoSPers) are located, I can hang out with other happy singletons, and whenever I do, it’s going on the blog. Discussing policies and criticizing the media are fun and useful, but social interaction is important for me as well, and these days, well, I just prefer to do it with other happy singletons.
So I got up at 6:45 on Sunday morning to have a quick breakfast, shower, and walk to the National Zoo to meet Heather, who had come down from the Baltimore area. After some confusion involving where to meet, we got together in the panda section (she loves pandas!). A few weeks earlier, I had gotten together with a few other friends for the zoo, which was fun, but they didn’t quite have the passion for animals that Heather does, so that increased my enjoyment of the experience.
Among the things we watched included monkeys climbing across high-wires, wallabies being wallabies, a lion being a lion, cows being cows, and pandas between pandas. And Heather and I had some good conversation. I found out she was from New Jersey, which always brings me home. I love meeting people from the Northeast; I find there’s usually a psychic connection of some sort. We talked our jobs, politics, music, and life in general. And of course, our cats. Cat people are the best people ever! We pondered hopping the fences around the carousel so Heather could get a picture, but three would have been too complicated. But it did inspire a microfiction piece to come.
We broke from the zoo for a bit to get brunch at the Woodley Cafe (for me, it was second breakfast a la Pippin). Heather inspired me to order an omelette with garlic mashed potatoes in it, and I’m still thinking about it the next day. And it was there where she found out my real name (I have an alias on Facebook). And that’s very interesting in this era of social media how we can get to know each other without really needing to know the basics (I mean, Craig is just a name, really). And it inspired another microfiction piece to come.
Eventually, a group of us COSPers will get together. Stay tuned!
NOTE: A spoiler for the show’s ending is in the first paragraph. Do not read if you plan to watch or are watching.
I have to credit my friend Nicole with introducing me to this show. When she edited How to be a Happy Bachelor, she mentioned the show as an example of a popular culture item that ultimately celebrates singlehood because, at the end, a not-so-single-at-heart character embraces singlehood. At first glance, it seems like brain candy, but it’s got some depth – and a good message.
To sum up the show arc, Rebecca Bunch, a wealthy New York City lawyer, moves to a town called West Covina, California in order to “be with” Josh, her old summer camp flame. Needless to say, things get complex (or, as Rebecca would say, “it’s a lot more nuanced than that”).
Her presence serves as a catalyst for just about every character in the show, including the three guys she dates: Josh, Greg, and Nathaniel. She spends much of the series hopping back-and-forth between these three dudes; finally, in the series finale, a ghost, appearing in the form of a therapist, shows her what her future would look if she ended up with either of them, and she’s not happy in any of them because as her future self tells her, “You don’t know who you are.”
After an episode in which she goes on one date each with the three guys, she decides to pursue a new love: music, which culminates in her singing and performing an original song at a Valentine’s Day open mic event. She has a speech in which she realizes that love does not have to be the end of the story, but rather a part of your story. It’s a healthy realization for her to come to, but I would also add it doesn’t even have to be that. But, at least, TV writers are attempting to make progress in this area: I guess they have to go through Calculus I to get through Calculus III.
I also loved the arcs of the supporting characters; some end up coupled and happy, others end up single and happy. Greg, who struggled with an alcohol problem in the first season, is now happily sober, happily single, and the owner of an Italian restaurant. Nathaniel, a miserable workaholic, got the strength to quit his father’s law firm and become the legal counsel for a zoo. And, when he had the monkey on his shoulder, I certainly did not say, “Hellwoooo, Chester.”
I could have done without White Josh’s (WiJo) comment to Greg during the open mic, “I will not be secure until you or Rebecca are married.” Fortunately, Greg has found enough strength to shut him down.
Did I mention that WiJo is “still single?” What’s up with that!?
“Married people have the one, single people have the ones.” This is one of my favorite lines from Bella DePaulo, and it’s true. When a person gets married (and I’m generalizing), the spouse becomes the person’s “everything,” and most cultures revere it. But when you’re single, you have multiple people in your life, and for me, it’s a lot richer.
Take my weekend, for instance. I just finished my first week at my new job in my new city and was looking forward to unwinding. Friday afternoon, I did just that on the tennis court. After driving to Rose Park in Georgetown, I met up with Enrique, who posted on a tennis group in Meetup that he was looking for a volleying partner. I hadn’t even picked up a racket in a year and a half (I had gotten complacent with it in Hampton Roads), but in the city of Washington, DC, there are tennis players galore, so I had browsed some Meetups for it. There was quite the line of people waiting to play, so Enrique and I got to know each other. A lighting technician in the theater, he was out of work due to this damdemic (I’m calling the pandemic the “damdemic;” it just seems fitting). I feel for you, dude. We had a good volley, even though I’m super rusty and have trouble letting the ball bounce before charging into it.
Saturday morning, I went for a brief hike with Guy, who I met on a runner’s meetup group. We met at Bread Furst, that aromatic bakery on Connecticut Avenue, and went on a trail. We shared tales of our travels. That afternoon, it was a trip to the National Gallery of Art with Joel, who I met through a writer’s Meetup group. He brought his buds Jacob and Rob. I was able to talk movie soundtracks and music with Jacob, Jewish lingo with Joel, and philosophies of creativity with Rob; after the museum, we went to the café where we talked about sweets. I never thought a topic as mundane as cookies would create such an enthralling dialogue, but there you go.
Yesterday was the CoSP meetup with Misti, where we walked around the National Mall and saw two people flip off the White House. Right on! We talked politics, travel, singlehood, and I love Misti’s insertion of popular culture references into conversation (Steve Martin’s The Jerk, Aerosmith’s “Jaded,” and I’m referring to the desolate DC landscape at DC: Zombie Apocalypse Version). We have plans to play tennis, grill, and see some socially distanced outdoor live music.
All in all, a hell of a weekend. Way more interesting than some backyard conversation about which lawn mower or juice box is better.
My name is Craig. I'm an educator, writer, and unapologetic singleton. When not reading, writing, or teaching, I enjoy hiking, running, watching movies, going to concerts, spending time with friends, and playing with my cat/son, Chester.