The Things I Carried: Leaving the Single Life

With all that I've written in the last few years about being single, it would be strange to slip out of singleness silently. So let me pause for a little while on this sunny Sunday afternoon and share with you my final thoughts on singleness as an unmarried woman. (On a side note, I probably won't write much about relationships or marriage. I don't want to be my usual slightly sarcastic self when writing about someone other than me.)

Lately I've been thinking about the things I've carried through my years of singleness.

I carried my name. I've been a Lentz for three decades. I have the Lentz sense of wit and the Lentz analytical mind and the Lentz receding hairline. These days when I sign my name, I remember that this is the last month I'll be scribbling out "Alison R. Lentz." It's probably for the best, given how the legibility of my signature has been on a steady decline since I first learned cursive in 1993.

I think it's fitting to set aside my name for a new one when I marry. I'll be gaining a new name (which I love) and a new set of family members (which I love). Changing my name is a perfect analogy for the new identity I am gaining as a wife and a member of a new family: a new identity where I gain so much, but lose some too. And even though I will no longer carry the name "Lentz," I assume I'll retain my Lentzy qualities.

I carried my preferences. My likes and dislikes, my opinions, and my convictions were the only ones I really had to consult when God's word didn't speak clearly on any particular decision. As my marriage approaches, Lord willing, I will set down some of my multitudinous strong opinions about the best way to live life as I partner up with someone who happens to have his own preferences, opinions, and convictions. I wonder if this process is easier for couples who marry in their early twenties, who haven't each had half a lifetime to get entrenched in their own ideas about everything.

I carried my friendships. Here's a secret: There are heroes among you. Are you part of a church? Chances are good that there are many single women in your church who would like to be married but are not, and who may never be because there are not enough Christian men to go around. Are you on the mission field? Then you probably know that 80-85% of single missionaries are female (from the article "Why are Women More Eager Missionaries?").

Single women in the church who want to get married have a few options:

1. Continue to hope in the Lord and pray for marriage. Eventually get married.
2. Continue to hope in the Lord and pray for marriage. Stay single. It is not true that every single person who desires marriage gets it.
3. Marry a non-Christian. Note: The Bible forbids this, and it makes sense. Why partner with someone whose life purposes are at odds with yours?

For those living in reality #2, there are choices again:

1. Stay single. Get bitter.
2. Stay single. Stay selfish.
3. Stay single. Refresh others. Serve enthusiastically. 

I'm happy to have spent the last ten years surrounded by single women who are choosing option #3.

• They are planning other people's bridal and baby showers, setting up their friends' weddings, and babysitting other women's kids.
• They can be found at the registration tables of college retreats, fatherhood seminars, and marriage conferences. They fill the ranks of volunteers that keep most of the ministries at my church running.
• They knowingly sabotage their chances of meeting a husband by moving to China, Laos, or the Middle East for as long as the Lord calls them there. 
• They raise support, buy houses, and fix appliances alone. They figure out how to assemble lawnmowers and set up IRAs.
• They are advancing in their professions and reaching out to their co-workers long after they might have thought they would be cutting their work hours to raise their families. 
• They respond graciously when their singleness is misunderstood or their sadness is dismissed by well-meaning friends and family.

My single friends are funny, faithful, encouraging, and strong. I loved writing about singleness partly because of the camaraderie of this particular group of unsung heroes. I'll miss being in the trenches with them, and I find it bittersweet to be setting down my identity as a single Christian woman.

There are other things I carried as a single woman that I'm happy to release. I carried a lot more Kleenexes before I met Andy, because I needed them a lot more often. Ha. I carried sadness, uncertainty, and the pain of watching my friendships change and weaken as friends got married and began having children.

I also learned to carry my expectations more loosely. I learned to carry greater hope in God Himself and not what he might do for me.

On the brink of my marriage, I'd love to hear from you: What did you carry as a single person? If you got married, what did you set down? What are you carrying now, in your current stage of life?

Jokes for Finding Love this Valentine's Day

This year on the blog, my mostly joking commentary on topics like creating the perfect holiday letter has been replaced by posts about the danger of Donald Trump, the role of American Christians, and the heartbreak of ignoring refugees. 

If you've stuck with me through this somewhat abrupt change in tone, thank you! I believe that I have only one voice, and if ever there was a year to use it, it's been this one. I especially appreciate readers who disagree with me who have continued to read and respond.

But today, Imma throw back to my blogging days of yore and talk to you about both JOKES and REAL LIFE in the SAME POST.

At the beginning of 2016, I published an article called Tips for Finding Love in the New Year. Here's an excerpt:

3) How to Handle the First Date

Using the above strategies, you’ll soon have plenty of dates on your calendar. How can you “wow” your date? I’m glad you asked.

The most important quality you can bring to a date is a sense of humor. Humor is even more attractive than actual attractiveness, which is why you frequently see top comedians paired up with supermodels, while your professional athletes and Hollywood stars — lacking that all-important sense of humor — are constantly having to take their moms to their various award shows because they can’t find anyone else to go with them.

To help you out, I’m going to share some jokes I have used on actual dates:

“What did the zero say to the eight?” “Nice belt.”

“What do you call a fish with no eyes?” “Fshhh.”

“What was the last thing that went through the bug’s head when it hit the windshield?” “Its butt.”

Now, you probably thought that advice was in jest. Heck, I thought that advice was in jest. But it turns out that my tips for finding love in the new year ACTUALLY WORK.

Not long after publishing that article, I got asked out to coffee by a man at my church. He'd been thinking about calling me for a while, but what helped tip him over the edge was reading my article and finding, yes, his favorite joke.

"What do you call a fish with no eyes?"
"Fshhh."

And we've been together ever since.

 + 

=

I still find it ironic that an article laughing about how NOT to impress someone helped bring me into a relationship with the one I love. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

So, apparently jokes are more powerful than I realized, and jokes about jokes are a foolproof path to true love. Single friends, I'm here for you. If dumb jokes work, I'm about to arm you with some jokes even dumber than the ones I shared last year. Here we go:

What do you call a cow with only two legs?
Lean beef.

What do you call a cow with no legs?
Ground beef.

What do you call a cow with an explosive device inside of it?
Abominable.

What do you call the cow after the device has exploded.
Noble.

Learn these jokes, single friends! Tell 'em at work, tell 'em at church, tattoo them on your arms, or include them in a satirical blog post about your dating ineptitude. Do what you need to do.

Have a great Valentine's Day, and I look forward to your weddings.

"Go... Sit... Stare" - A Singles' Guide to Weddings

Bachelors and bachelorettes, it's been far too long since I've given you any advice.

Sure, I got you through the holidays with my Singles' Holiday Guide and my instructions on writing the perfect solo Christmas letter.

And yep, I helped you through the New Year with my Tips for Finding Love in 2016.

But now the holidays are over and it's spring, that magical season when a young person's fancy turns to love! ...Not yours, of course. For one thing, you are not that young. Also, you are not in love. No, your fancy is currently occupied with other pressing matters, such as registries and RSVPs, because it's almost Wedding Season!

How are you going to conquer Wedding Season alone? This is far too big a question for me to answer without help, so I turned to my Facebook friends for their advice. In addition to some actual, proper advice (such as "Remember that it's not about you"), here are some of the quotes I gathered:

• "Don't go."
• "If you must go, it helps make you feel better if others know you're miserable. So, I think it's good to cry, make self-deprecating comments, and say things to the married/dating people like "you are so lucky to have each other". '
• "Look hot."
• "Make sure to dance with people that are either one third your age OR three times your age!"
• "Give awkward hugs."
• "Perfect a dance that you can teach to others."
• "Bring a cat."

One guy said, "I just kind of go... sit... stare." He pointed out that this method has two advantages: It's really uncomfortable for him, and it's really uncomfortable for everyone else.

As tempting as that sounds, you may want some more specific advice, so here you go:

1) DO Drink.

The best thing a single person can do at a wedding is drink. No, not alcohol. (That's actually the worst thing. A little-known fact!)

You are going to drink a LOT, because you will be requiring a LOT of bathroom breaks. I recommend a minimum of five glasses of water, plus a few Shirley Temples to help you fit in at the kids' table, where you will probably be seated.

Once your bladder is sloshing with several gallons of non-alcoholic beverages, you will be ready to run frantically to the restroom anytime an unpleasant singleness moment arises. For example, you can escape:

• The minute you hear the words "bouquet" and "toss" in the same sentence
• Any time the DJ plays a song that's 100 beats per minute or less
• When you're stuck between two strangers who are conversing over you as if you are not polishing off a salad in the two-foot space between them. 

The next tip is specific to the gentlemen.

2) DON'T be like this guy:

One time, I was sitting with some friends at a reception and an unattached groomsman came ambling over and invited one of us (any of us!) to dance. I volunteered.

As we arrived on the dance floor, he said, "I don't really know how to dance, so you'll have to lead."

No can do, Mr. Awkward Sweaty Groomsman Guy. NO CAN DO.

If your plan is to make the girl lead, I suggest that you first find out whether or not she went to a conservative Baptist high school that did not allow dancing, thus forever cementing her dance skills at the level of "Bunny Hop," and if indeed she did go to said high school, back slowly away.

Anyway, my Facebook friends were all in agreement on the following points:

3) DO eat cake.

4) But DON'T cry about it. Apparently, the acceptable times to cry at a wedding are as follows:

• The ceremony
• The speeches

Every other situation is off-limits for tears, including:

• Eating cake
• Eating your second piece of cake
• Eating your third piece of cake

If you find yourself crying at a non-approved time, you must either put on your sunglasses or run to the restroom (see Point #1). No crying at the singles' table!

5) DO make jokes. If you can't cry, you might as well laugh.

One friend suggested that if you get a second piece of cake, you should claim that it's for your date, who "couldn't make it."

I think she's onto something. It's true that your date couldn't make it... TO YOUR LIFE.

Heh heh. Witty remarks like these are going to be essential for following the last piece of advice for attending weddings alone:

6) DO make friends. I'm not talking about making friends at the wedding. I'm talking about making friends before the wedding. Twenty years before, if possible.

Because the best way to enjoy a wedding solo is to be in the wedding. Think about it:

• You will walk into the ceremony on the arm of a well-dressed person of the opposite gender
• It's actually more convenient NOT to have your own date
• You will have assigned seating at the best table in the venue
• You will have many duties to keep you busy, thus giving you something to do other than visit the restroom
• You will acquire many lovely professional photos of yourself in formalwear. Perfect for your online dating profile!

So dust off your jokes, my fellow singles, and get out there and make some friends. It's Wedding Season, and we got this. See you at the head table!

Your Annual Holiday Letter: A Tutorial for Singles

First of all, thank you for making my Singles' Holiday Guide one of my most-read posts.  It is indeed a comfort that our collective holiday happiness is such an important topic for you, perhaps even more important than all of the Issues On Which I Have Opinions or my collection of Truly Mediocre Poetry.

It has come to my attention that I neglected to give any advice on a very important topic: The Annual Holiday Letter.  A brief review of my own files shows that I started sending out Christmas cards in 2008 and continued until... let's see... 2008.  Based on this experience, I've put together the following tutorial for singles to craft the perfect Christmas letter.

The Annual Holiday Letter includes three essential components:

1.  Photos
2.  Dependents
3.  Accomplishments and Adventures

Let's start with photos.  Holiday letters need to have a certain joie de vivre (French for "joy of vivre"), so your photos should connote happiness and enthusiasm.

WRONG:

RIGHT:

See how much happier that looks?  Another benefit of choice #2 is that it effectively communicates both "single" and "ready to mingle."  Here are some other outfits I considered for my Christmas card photo:

It's bold. I love it. (But not as much as I love myself.)

Indeed, this is not subtle.

A cat muumuu.  The proper attire for all single ladies of a certain age.

Speaking of cats, let's move on to the next part of your letter: dependents.   You may have noticed that most holiday letters focus as little as possible on the writer.  They say things like,  "This year was an exciting year for the Ribalski family!  In January I won the Nobel Prize for Literature, but enough about me.  Quentin continues to be the line leader every other Thursday at his preschool and has only led the line down the wrong hallway twice!"  This should, of course, be followed by a photo of Quentin in his line leader hat.

So you're going to need a child, or at least a pet, to feature in your Christmas letter.  I am going to use as my featured dependent a stuffed cat that was given to me a couple years ago by a friend who knew how much I like cats (and how much my housemates don't).

I've never named this little guy, but for the purpose of this letter, let's call him "Geoff." Geoff isn't a line leader, but he's done a pretty good job holding down those books for the last year and a half.

Once you have both a photo and a dependent to feature, it's time to get to the "meat" of your letter.  Here you will describe the accomplishments and adventures of the last year.  Remember to make them upbeat!

WRONG:  "I tried baking an apple pie last week, but the inside didn't turn out.  So I made another one, but then the outside didn't turn out."

RIGHT:  "This year I baked infinitely more apple pies than last year, each one just as good as the last."

Perhaps you are one of those intrepid singles who has bought a house (bless you).  You can describe your many accomplishments as a solo homeowner, such as the time you installed a dimmer switch by yourself, or that time you mowed the lawn.  My own major accomplishment of 2015 was taking my lunch to work instead of buying it every day.

As a single person, you may find the "dependents" and "accomplishments" section of your letter a bit difficult, but never fear.  You have something married parents of young children can only dream of: You have adventures.  Talk about your travels!  If you haven't had any, make some up; your friends will never know.

Here I'll include some helpful travel photo templates for your letter.  Just insert a picture of your face, and the "adventures and accomplishments" section of your letter will be complete.

"My Trip To New York"

"Hosting Saturday Night Live"

"Jamming with friends in the UK"

As you can see, once you know the three essential components to the perfect Annual Holiday Letter, it basically writes itself.  Hope you had a wonderful 2015, and I can't wait to hear about it!

Singles' Holiday Guide

If there's one thing I'm always hearing, it's how helpful I am.
"Alison, you're the helpful-est person, I know," people say. "We don't know what we'd do without you."
"Thanks," I say. "I don't know what you'd do either."

In the spirit of helping all my single friends survive the upcoming holidays, I've put together the following Guide to Surviving and Thriving as a Single this Season.


The Company Christmas Party

The two most important things you must decide about the company Christmas party are what to wear and whom to take.  For your attire, I recommend wearing something subdued so that your choice of a date will really pop.  You can bring any of the following people to the party:

1)  An actual date.  Hahaha.  I kid, I kid.  If you knew any actual eligible dates, you'd be out with them right now instead of reading this guide.  But that's OK, because there are many other options.

2)  A friend of the opposite sex.  The beauty of this choice is that no one will know if this is a friend-date or a date-date, leading to awkward conversations throughout the night.  Your CEO might just plop down beside you and ask, "Who's this lucky gentleman (or lady)?"  An additional possible bonus is that your date (or you!) will be likewise confused and will spend the next year planning a wedding that will never happen.

3)  A friend of the same sex.  This choice combines the enjoyment of spending the evening with a friend with the excitement of making all of your co-workers question your sexual orientation.

4)  A relative.  It's cool to bring your cousin to the company party, right?  .... right??

5)  No one.  Going solo solves so many problems: The problem of there not being enough empty chairs at the table, the problem of writing "2" on your RSVP card when "1" is so much easier...  Actually, those are the only two problems it solves, but if those are your priorities, you should definitely go with option #5.


The Family Dinner

As most grandmothers have long known, there's no better place to discuss your singleness than over the holiday dinner table.  Sometimes it can be difficult to come up with the perfect response to your family's questions on the spot.  Here are some suggestions:

Q:  "When will you get married?"
A:  "When will the apple pie be done?"  (Evasion plus confusion.  Perfect.)

Q:  "Are you seeing anyone?"
A:  "No."  (Drop your fork on the floor and duck under the table to get it.  Do not emerge.)

Q:  "Why are you still single?"
A:  "I'm ugly."  (My personal favorite.)

It will also be important to smile and nod appropriately when your great aunt describes how her niece on the other side found her husband.  "She met him on the Christian Mingles!  Or was it the Farmers Only?  Have you ever thought of trying one of those dating sites?"


Accommodations

After your holiday dinner and an evening full of family fun, it will be time to "hit the hay," as they say.  Fortunately, as the only family member without a spouse or a child, and thus the only family member who does not strictly require a bed, you may actually have the opportunity to sleep on some hay!  But if an original Bethlehem-stable kind of Christmas is not for you, your two prime sleeping spots are as follows:

1)  The living room couch.  Pros: It's the highest-quality couch in the house, it may afford a view of the Christmas tree, and you will definitely be the only one to see Santa.  Cons:  Santa might not come if you are spying on him from the living room.

2)  The basement couch.  Pros:  You'll feel like a teenager again!  You'll have your own bedroom in the basement -- cool!  Maybe you can save up your lawn-mowing money for a mini fridge!  Cons:  Your family might forget about you and leave you behind while they take a trip to France, forcing you to fend off potential home invaders by yourself.

Actually, that might make for a pretty cool story, so I recommend option #2.

With parties, dinners, and accommodations taken care of, you're all set for a happy holiday as a surviving, thriving single.  Enjoy!


Disclaimer:  This blog shall in no way be responsible for the consequences of following the advice set forth in this column.  This blog recognizes that singleness humor is best directed at singles and henceforth demands that all non-single readers forget they ever read this column.  This blog would also like to remind this blog's mom that this blog does actually like sleeping on the couch. 

The Gift of Acknowledgement

This year I've been stalking my acquaintance/friend Sarah as she wrote some beautiful articles on the topic of singleness for an online magazine called Single Matters.  In particular, I loved When Love Came Down ("It's me and you, Jesus.  It's been me and you for a long time...") and Your Wisdom About Love is Not Limited By Singleness, which I'd already been thinking about through my essays on what love looks like in the single life.

Anyway, go read all of Sarah's articles.  And then if you have time, stop by to read an article I just contributed to Single Matters, on the topic "The Gift of Acknowledgement."

That's it for Singleness Week on my blog!  Thanks for reading and commenting.  Find the whole collection here.

[In the Style of Bridget Jones] Single on a Sunday

I typed out this diary entry in the style of Bridget Jones after reading a Bridget Jones's Diary book last summer.  She is one funny fictional Brit.  The actual events I described below were mostly all true. But the thoughts and conclusions were mostly all not -- They are much more Bridget-ish than Alison-ish. Enjoy!


Current weight: Not reported. Number of cigs smoked: 0 (as per usual). Number of bathrooms cleaned: 2 (v. good). Number of floors swept: At least a million (v. v. good). Batches of cookies mixed: 5. Batches of cookies baked: 0. Number of boyfriends: 0 (as per usual).

Alarm set for 4:05 this morning to drive roommate and church staffers to airport for conference in California. Roommate says we are leaving at crack of dawn. I point out it’s another three hours before dawn cracks.

5:30 a.m. Got back from airport and went to sleep for next four hours (unlike me to sleep so late, but v. tired lately). Dreamt was in California with church staffers attending a backyard Mexican barbecue. All were very impressed when I saw them and announced with perfect Spanish accent, “Es mi grupo.” Spent most of dream looking on Google maps to find nearest beach. Awoke to beautiful day in Iowa.

10:00 a.m. Normally would not spend all of Sunday morning un-showered in my pajamas reading “Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason.” Found it on bookshelf last night and laughed out loud through first two chapters, so really do have to finish book to see how it ends. Will be up and showered by 11. Now I’ll just warm up some leftovers and get on to Chapter Three…

Gah! 12:30 already! At least book is finished (v. humorous, if a little crass), so now can be extra productive through rest of day. Also have plans to talk with gentleman from online dating site this afternoon. But first, will go for run and then start big cookie baking project.

1:30 p.m.: Finished running! Finished showering! Even shaved my legs! Hoorah! Am a responsible, productive adult and will continue doing important chores and creative ventures throughout day.

2:30 p.m.: Let’s see… Got these cookies all mixed up so they just need to pop in the fridge for a cool-down before baking. Roommate walks in and I tell her I’m baking cookies for the church marriage conference next week (v. selfless of me).

Selflessness continues with extra-thorough cleaning of house, including two bathrooms, several floors, and own room. Still counts as selfless even though I live here, right? Resolve to continue cleaning bathrooms weekly so they do not become scary, hair-filled, moldy disasters as in last house rented.

3:30 p.m.: Will bake cookies after gentleman from the Internet gives me a call. For now will just walk down to coffee shop for some free wi-fi. Beautiful walk. Best neighborhood ever!

Hm. Nothing interesting on the Internet. E-mail may not be working, as no new messages are in inbox. Phone also possibly not working, as has not rung all day. Look at phone: Appears to be in working order. Will go home and re-learn how to crochet while waiting for gentleman caller.

6:00 p.m.: Yes, this is absolutely best day ever. Sitting in my clean room with vanilla candle burning, relaxing on perfectly made bed making a lovely scarf. Do not actually remember how to crochet exactly, but confident it will turn out all right in the end (yarn is quite bulky so v. forgiving of mistakes). Let’s see, eight rows in… better hold it up and take a peek…

Gah! Scarf is not supposed to look like pregnant “S.” Should be straight and neat. Pull out four rows and leave on bed so can scrounge for some supper.

7:30 p.m. Phone rings! Is not technically “afternoon” anymore, but can forgive Internet gentleman for that. Oh, but: “Hi Alison! It’s Mom! Just calling to say hi. So anyway, what did you do today?” Talked to Mom for thirty minutes. Had planned to call her myself (resolve to be more attentive daughter) but wanted line free in case needed for online dating purposes.

Will randomly text half a dozen friends to stave off boredom.

8:00 p.m. Read several pages of First Kings. Continue to be confused by incident with Elisha and bears. Nonetheless, reading Bible and praying always v. good idea. Should probably have done before finishing Bridget Jones.

Friend calls. Discuss her online dating experiences in detail. Nothing to report on this end.

Hmm.. 8:45. Will just text Internet gentleman to let him know I’m still free.

8:50 p.m. No response.

Will complete urgent project of going through digital photos from last three months.

9:10 p.m. Still no response. Will just pop off to McDonald’s for some free wi-fi. (Side note – really would be more convenient to have Internet in house.) Should get salad as have not had anything un-cheesed or un-fried all day.

Oh, though. They have chocolate twist cones! Should get one as they are only $1 and will be nice cheap way to justify sitting in booth for an hour mooching wi-fi. Log into my online dating. Interesting dorky minister dude sent questions; will reply.

9:55 p.m. Phone still silent. Composed humorous haiku regarding sitting under freezing air conditioning while eating twist cone and posted on Facebook. Facebook did not appreciate, as still no response. Possible that “like” button not functioning tonight.

10:10 p.m. Was v. productive day! Did some cleaning! Went for a run! Attempted a creative venture! Does not matter that entire population of Internet males save one dorky minister dude, as well as Facebook audience at large, did not contact at all! (Feel sorry for all females not so understanding and self-assured). Am responsible, productive, attractive adult. Will go to bed at reasonable time. Will bake five batches of cookies on Thursday.


It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

#tammy

Having the perfect hashtag makes any situation better.  I would like to introduce all my single friends to two useful hashtags for all your singleness needs.

The first one is my very own creation: #reallifeinthetrenches

It was birthed a couple years ago when I attended a bridal shower where everyone was asked to give relationship advice to the bride-to-be.  I had none.  So I told them about my most recent dating experience, where I went out with a man who, days later, moved to the Arctic Circle for the rest of his life.  So the best advice I could offer was not to get relationship advice from me.  People laughed.  "This is real life," I told them.  "Real life in the trenches."

Can I suggest some real-life situations where you may find my hashtag helpful?

• At a wedding.  All your acquaintances there are married, except one single lady who was supposed to attend.  The bride thoughtfully seated you next to her.  But she had a family emergency and didn't come, so you sit at a table of couples next to the only empty chair in the house.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• On the eHarmony.  Your friend hijacks your profile to message a cute guy on her own behalf.  She accidentally clicks the box that says, "Alert me when So-and-So responds."  eHarmony immediately charges $7.99 to your credit card for its alerting service.  So-and-So never responds.  (You bought the service.  You would know.)  #reallifeinthetrenches
• In the kitchen.  Mousetrap snaps and a little rodent squeaks its last.  No one to clean that thing up but you.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• At the dinner table.  Someone mentions a mutual acquaintance she thinks is attractive.  You stop and do the math.  He is closer to age 12 than the ages of two thirds of the single women at the table.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• On the living room couch.  Your roommate is making brownies and walks in with a spoon for you to lick clean.  This literally just happened.  #reallifeinthetrenches

So maybe real life in the trenches is not all that bad. 

Anyway, the next hashtag requires a quote and a story.  One of my single friends did some volunteering a few months ago and got to know a lady named Tammy.  She ran into her a few months later, and Tammy had this to say:

"Girl, I know I recognize you.  How do I know you?!  Oh yeah!  You're that loud mouth girl that brings me food sometimes!!  You done put on some weight, girl!  What, like 20, 30 pounds?  Don't chu worry though, girl.  You were blessed by the good Lord with hips and an ass.  Let me see your stomach.  Yeah girl.  Here's what you do.  Knock 15 points off that body and the boys will come running.  You single?  Yeah... that's cause you let yourself get fat.  But don't worry.  Tammy got chu, girl."

As my friend said, "Tammy gives zero cares about my feelings."  We all agreed the world needs more people like Tammy.  Now when we come across prime singleness moments, we just say "#tammy."

Someone at work reminds you that you better start having kids soon if you ever want to have them?  #tammy

Run across some girl cursing out her bicycle because she doesn't have a boyfriend to curse out? #tammy

Ready to send out a stack of four RSVP cards, after writing four "one"s in a row?  #tammy

Once I texted my roommate in the midst of a stressful singleness situation and asked her to pray for me.  Her response?

Oh boy.  #reallifeinthetrenches

I think Tammy would approve.


It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

[Love Looks Like] Junk Mail and Zucchini Bread

Here's a favorite from the archives: An essay I wrote about a family visit a couple summers ago.

I read a blog where the writer has a series called “Love Looks Like.” She writes about her husband of fourteen years and the marriage they have built together. The writing is beautiful; the essays speak of tired and tender moments, the sacrifices they have made for each other, and the memories that keep them warm. They are college sweethearts enjoying the middle years of their marriage. Each post ends with the short explanation, “I write now and then about what love looks like for us.”

Tonight I read another one and thought, “What does love look like for me?”

I've been single my whole life.  So what does love look like for me? Love does not look like:

• Flowers at work on my birthday
• Online countdowns to my upcoming wedding, anniversary, or baby
• Flipping through old photo albums of my budding romance
• Planning my future with someone
• Building a family

Right now, love doesn’t look like any of the things I see in those wonderful blog essays. Yet, it seems that in spite of my current solidly single status, God had not intended me to live a solidly loveless life. Thank goodness.

This weekend my parents came down for a visit. The first thing my mom handed me when she got out of the car was a Tupperware of potato salad. No explanation was needed; Mom just likes to feed her kids. The salad was followed with a loaf of zucchini bread and an apology for forgetting to bring a few bags of frozen sweet corn.

They stayed the night, with my parents sleeping in my bedroom on my cheap (and only) set of sheets while I bunked on the couch. The next day we went downtown to the farmer’s market to carry out our mission of getting fresh flowers for my sister. The big event of the weekend was my sister’s “white coat” ceremony, which, in terms of length and excitement, reminded me of my college graduation years ago: badly pronounced names droning on as a steady stream of students walked smartly across the stage.

We went out to eat and then returned to the rental house I share with several friends. My dad had brought a rubber mallet to help me install some new hubcaps he helped me buy online. Mine keep falling off, even though I’m certain I haven’t driven into anything! He crouched beside my car in the 95-degree heat, moving a little slower than usual because of a few broken ribs that were still healing, and he helped me put on four new hubcaps.

Just before my parents left, my mom handed me a plastic bag filled with mass mailings addressed to me. I still get mail at my parents’ house even though it’s been over a decade since I lived there. My mom either stacks it on my dresser for when I come home or brings it to me if she sees me in between my visits. It was really nice to have an address to use for all my mail during a few years I lived overseas, which is probably why I yet haven’t gone to any great effort to get things re-directed to where I live now.

Tonight I’m thinking that love looks like a bag of junk mail and a loaf of zucchini bread sitting on my kitchen table at this very moment. (I’ve already eaten half the bread.)

Love looks like having a permanent address, even though I haven’t had a permanent home since I graduated from high school.

Love looks like my dad carefully tapping my plastic hubcap into place while my mom pulls the next one out of its sleeve and we all stop to wipe off the sweat condensing on our temples.

Love looks like sitting through a two-hour long ceremony so my sister has a white coat and family support for embarking on two years of physician assistant school.

Love looks like me getting a mediocre night’s sleep on my couch so my parents could have a mediocre night’s sleep on my bed, and it looks like the overly gracious “Thank you for you hospitality” e-mail that just appeared in my inbox from my mom.

It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

It's about to get real up in here... Real single.

Hi guys!  This month I have an article coming out in an e-magazine called Single Matters.  In celebration, I'm declaring it Singleness Week here on the blog.

The peril of writing about singleness is, of course, VULNERABILITY.

If I talk candidly about being a single woman in my thirties, what will you think of me??

Will you misunderstand me?
Will you feel sorry for me?
Will you think I'm kind of whiny?
Will you think I'm desperate?
Will you think my jokes are pathetic?
Will you buy me a household of cats?

So before we launch Singleness Week, I need you to not assume that I'm secretly depressed.  (I'm not.)  I need you laugh at my jokes.  (They'll be super funny.)  I need you to buy me only one cat.  (A calico.)

We good here?  OK, thanks.  Enjoy Singleness Week!  (Find the whole collection here.)