Hiding Places

In an undeveloped cul-de-sac, there's a little outlet that's a perfect fit for my car. There's no one around. I go there when I'm not ready to go home, when I need to be completely, utterly, alone, away, disconnected. When I park there, I turn off the car and lock my doors, and I just sit. After just a few minutes of solitude, my mind is clear. I feel rejuvenated.

I've always had similar spots. In college, there was a couch in an empty part of the student center, where I would nap between classes, curled up under my jacket. When I worked for the airlines, I would take my breaks in the abandoned areas of the terminal. Airports can be extremely relaxing. At my last job, I found a dark, quiet hallway to escape to. In high school, I would sometimes eat lunch in an empty parking lot, sheltered by a row of pine trees.

Even in the city, it's possible to hide. As a matter of fact, it's even easier. People don't notice you there. I love melting into crowds. One of the best places to hide is the mall food court. I have spent many hours sipping my Sbarro soda and watching people there.

These little secret hiding spots are important. Ever since I was making private blanket-forts in the living room, I've made sure there is always somewhere to disappear when things get to be a little too much. Solitude is so therapeutic.

Living

Some people float through life like jellyfish. They let life happen to them. They find it perplexing that anyone would grab hold of destiny and steer it in another direction. These people would much rather stay in a miserable situation, bellyaching their days away, than take a step off the ledge into anything unknown. Most of them are unable to see past the tips of their noses, and they feel perfectly safe and snug in their tiny life-bubbles. Those are the people who find it "brave" to venture out into the abyss without a safety net.

I find myself drawn to people who aren't afraid of change, who chase down what they want out of life, who don't make me feel like a deviant for my choices. Those are the magnetic, amusing, refreshing people, the people with a panoramic perspective, the people who don't find change "brave," but fundamental - as necessary as the air they breathe.

I recently found out that a friend accepted a job that will require a move from New York to California. He didn't even blink - this is his dream job. I have friends that would scoff at such a decision. I'm ecstatic for him, and anyone who knows me can attest that in his position, I wouldn't have hesitated for an instant. Opportunity doesn't come knocking. You have to seize it.

I've been called a wanderer, a lost soul, and a nomad, but I believe I simply haven't found what I'm looking for. And I refuse to settle for anything else. In the mean time, my life is dynamic and surprising. Tomorrow is unpredictable and full of mystery, not foreseeable and mundane. I can't imagine forgoing those untethered leaps. That is foreign to me. I never know how to respond when people call my choices "brave." There are brave people in this world, but I don't equate fearlessness with things like living lean, moving alone, or changing jobs. Finding your way through the darkness, not flinching at life's punches is...living. There is no other way.

Hermit Perks

After living alone for about six years, I've spent the last 16 months NOT living alone. But who's counting?  The ability to live alone is the biggest consolation for being single. It might not seem like much, but consider the following perks:

• You can have candy breakfasts, pancake dinners, and beer brunches, and no one will criticize. Personally, this is a huge factor, as my diet is simply embarassing. I love that I can come home and unabashedly dip my french fries in my Frosty. You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. There is no such thing as sharing when you live alone. If you buy a package of Sausalitos, you are guaranteed to have that deliciousness to look forward to after work. If you order pizza, you choose the toppings. Every time. And you get all the leftovers. 
• If I want to sit around in nothing but a belt and socks (eating fries and a Frosty), who's going to stop me? You can dress however you want. Now, I know when you're married, this is generally the same. But when you're single and live alone, you can take it to the extreme. I lavish the fact that I can be slovenly every weekend. I have no problem wearing the same baggy t-shirt, pajama pants, and knee socks from Friday evening through Sunday evening...without showering. Hey, everyone knows it's bad to wash your hair every day! 
• Seinfeld re-runs. No one else appreciates them on a daily basis. When I have sole control of the remote, this is what is showing after work. Yes, I have seen them all - several times. What's your point, exactly?
• Showering with the door open is something I will never, ever take for granted. I despise, despise closing the door when I shower. I hate that the bathroom gets all steamy and slimy. And even worse? Getting dressed in that steamy, slimy, sweaty bathroom. Gross. When you shower with the door open (which you can freely do when you live alone), the whole place is your fabulous dressing room. You're not confined to a slippery, hot 5x5 sweat-box. And on that note...
• You can try on as many outfits as you want before work or a date...or going to the grocery store. And you can leave the runners-up flung all over the room for as long as you like. Because...
• Yo' mama don't live here. You don't have to make your bed, unload the dishwasher, fold the laundry...until you're darn-well ready to. For me, that's usually on Sunday. But it doesn't have to be. A major high point of living alone is that you never, ever have to clean up after anyone else but yourself.
• Need milk? Go get it. Want to hit the mall? Who's stopping you? Feel like throwing a dinner party? Start planning. You can do anything you want when you live alone - without working around anyone else's schedule. You can be governed by whim.

So, while I hesitate to leave my current living situation because it is cost-effective and temporary, I feel like I need to take advantage of my singledom. Right now I'm really missing out on the best part.

Good Night, Noughties.

I read an interesting question today. "Are you happier about the end of this year of the beginning of a new one?"

As I was applying my eyeliner to head out to a New Year's party tonight, it hit me that the infamous Y2K was 10 years ago tonight. It seems like a lifetime ago. I was at a party at a farmhouse with my fellow Chili's coworkers, and I had just started dating the very first of what seemed an endless string of...losers. He was a full-fledged alcoholic of 27, and I was barely 20 and didn't quite have my drinking legs yet. I think I had one glass of champagne. Was that really 10 years ago?

Fast forward to tonight, and back to the question at hand. I'm happier about the beginning of the new year. I resolve to stop dwelling in the past. There are a lot of broken things there that can never be fixed. I want to start paying attention to what I've learned from my mistakes and using that knowledge to move forward. This year already looks bright and shiny, more so than any other year I can remember. Maybe that's because I'm going into it with a different outlook. Or any real outlook at all. I'm not focused on losing 10 pounds or getting A's in whatever program or getting a job or buying whatever thing...2010 will be focused inward and, consequently, onward.

Permanence Pansy

I guess you could call me afraid of commitment. Not just in relationships...I won't join a gym if there's a long-term contract, I refuse to be locked into a car payment, I won't sign an apartment lease (and perish the thought of a mortgage), I don't even keep anything in my refrigerator. If a tornado came and sucked me off the planet right now, there wouldn't be much left besides the greasy spot on the ground - this blog, a couple of J. Crew cardigans and some boots, a Nutcracker collection, and a beat-up old Subaru.

Now, I go back and forth on this. I’m unsure what my life holds for me, and I want to be ready to move if the opportunity presents itself. I couldn’t imagine being tied down to the same place for the next 25 to 30 years.  To me, that's sensible. I have changed locations so many times in the last 10 years, that I've found it easier to just live with the necessities. It's extremely hard to pick up and start all over.

Despite my efforts to remain uncommitted to anything or anyone, I have to admit that I have an intense longing for security and belonging, neither of which can happen without commitment. And though I don’t want to be tied down to a job or a house, I still want the security of knowing where my next pay check will come from or where I’ll live next month.

For the immediate future, I live in a nice place, and I have a fulfilling job that I  love. But it doesn't seem permanent. I spend a lot of time - all my time - coming up with alternate plans. Life has thrown me quite a few curveballs recently, and I'm still perfecting my swing.

Someone once told me I seem like I'm flailing through life. I feel more like I'm hopscotching. All the other kids already finished the game and went inside, and I keep losing my balance and starting over.

Facebook Survey

I came across this in my Facebook Notes today, and some of these made me giggle.

1. I like to spell words alphabetically. For example, "dresser" would be "deerrss." "Lipstick" would be "ciiklpst." You get the idea. I sometimes make patterns in my head, alternating the words spelled correctly with alphabetically.

2. I have perfected "The Sprinkler" and have no issues with busting it out upon request. I can pretty much do it to any song.

3. I have a total phobia of bathroom floors, including bathroom rugs. I refuse to step on other people's bathroom rugs - I walk on the tile on my tiptoes...and I cringe until I'm out the door.

4. I have lived in ten states.

5. I crave potato chips and chocolate chip cookies together. There was one Amelia Bedelia story in which Amelia mistakenly made chocolate chip cookies with chips, and I thought it sounded like the best recipe EVER. An acceptable substitute is Wendy's fries dipped in a chocolate Frosty.

6. I have a double-jointed neck. I can move it side-to-side and in circles.

7. I've met Dustin Diamond (Screech), Vanilla Ice, Richard Simmons, Misty May-Treanor, Isaac Hayes and LL Cool J. Yep, jealous?

8. My favorite scent is anything pumpkin-spice.

9. I have always hidden candy in my room, even when I've lived alone. It started at a really young age, and I just can't break the habit!

10. I used to have my nose, eyebrow and tongue pierced, along with five holes in my ears.

11. If I could do anything in the world, I would be an international spy...more Mr. and Mrs. Smith than Austin Powers.

12. It took me 11 years to get my bachelor's degree, and I wouldn't change any of it.

13. I HATE capri pants. I take note of them and mentally scorn the women wearing them.

14. I blush really easily. I can't help it, and it's embarrassing. At the slightest hint of emotion, my face turns bright red. Thus, it can sometimes literally be impossible for me to hide my feelings.

15. I used to want to marry Michael Jackson. Come on people, it was when he was normal, back in the early 80s!

16. I'm almost 30 and still don't know if I want children.

17. I'm randomly good at music lyrics trivia.

18. I'm oddly attracted to forearms.

19. I beat up a boy I really liked at a church picnic in third grade, and his dad got really pissed. I think he was only mad because his kid got whooped by a girl.

20. I was once on a date and had a liiiiiitttle too much wine with dinner...I leaned in to kiss him good night, my hand missed the door frame, and I fell past him, right onto my face.

21. I was once thanked in a CD liner.

22. I have my favorite name. (But when I was a little kid, I wanted to change it to Candy.)

23. I am really good at sit-ups. In pilates class last year, I did 70 in one minute.

24. My all-time favorite song is "Sara" by Jefferson Starship. "Saaaara, Saaaara, storms are brewin' in your eyes...Oh oh oh..."

25. Like my youngest sister, I have issues with stairs. I fell up the stairs my first day of high school, I tripped up the bus stairs my first week of college, and I fell down my apartment stairs in heels on a first date...among many, many other accidents. No booze involved in any of the above incidents. It must be genetic.

Sunday Funday

I found myself in the office this morning at 9 a.m. It's Sunday. I didn't really have a lot to catch up on...I simply didn't have anything else to do. Over the last couple of months, I've found that becoming the case more and more. I typically work 11 hours a day during the week, without a lunch break, because I can't eat another single with cheese, no onions. Then it's back to the office on the weekend, armed with an iPod and a cup of coffee.

I stared out the window today wondering if this is what life becomes for those who are single at 30. A little bit Bridget Jones-esque, maybe, but I would have the most boring holiday letter on the planet.

Hi everyone,


Hope you're well. I'm living in Dallas. Again. Working for a software company. Again. Still single. Still in and out of grad school. Oh! I replaced my catalytic converters. Well, happy holidays.


Love,
Allison

I'm not ready for a family. But what should I do? Get a cat? I hate cats. Girls, if you're reading this and still happen to be in college, just do yourself a favor, get it over with and find someone. Because if you're single when you graduate, there is a good chance you will stay that way forever. And you will work on Sundays. And you will drink too much. And you will relate to Bridget Jones, which is beyond depressing, because I can't stand Renee Zellweger, and her British accent is worse than the voice in my head that sounds like Mary Poppins.