Greetings, dear reader (that is, assuming there is at least one of you)...
You may have noticed a lack of post for this week. Sixlillies and I have decided to take a little break from the blog for about a month while we both tackle some busy weeks ahead. No worries, we will be back. In the meantime, check out the archives and we will see you soon!
-Six and the Queen
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Life and Regret
To regret or to not regret-- that is the question. I've often struggled with the concept of regret. As a single woman in particular, I often wonder if I do (or even if I should) live a life without regret in regards to my past relationships.
Regrets are not to be confused with mistakes. Mistakes are universal--everyone makes them. Regret is not universal; just ask a handful of your friends. Some people live regretless lives, while others have plenty to go around.
I know I've made mistakes in my relationships. Probably too many to count. I've let people down, I've expected too much or too little, and I've made rash decisions that have hurt both me and the person I was with. There have been times when I've let my standards slide. None of these are things I can take back, and what's the point in wishing that I could?
It's a decision I've come to more recently, but it's been formed over time. I just don't believe in regret anymore. There is a Katherine Mansfield quote that says,
I find that being single allows me to think about mistakes I've made, but I'm learning not to dwell on them. So believe what you want in regards to regret. As for me, I'm slowly but surely finding freedom in letting go and living without it.
Regrets are not to be confused with mistakes. Mistakes are universal--everyone makes them. Regret is not universal; just ask a handful of your friends. Some people live regretless lives, while others have plenty to go around.
I know I've made mistakes in my relationships. Probably too many to count. I've let people down, I've expected too much or too little, and I've made rash decisions that have hurt both me and the person I was with. There have been times when I've let my standards slide. None of these are things I can take back, and what's the point in wishing that I could?
It's a decision I've come to more recently, but it's been formed over time. I just don't believe in regret anymore. There is a Katherine Mansfield quote that says,
And it's true. I acknowledge my mistakes, don't get me wrong. But each and every bad decision I've made, each and every time I let my standards slip; I learned something invaluable. I'm flawed for sure, and have a past marked with mistakes. And those mistakes and the pain that came with them are what have made me who I am today."Make it a rule of life never to regret and never to look back. Regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only for wallowing in."
I find that being single allows me to think about mistakes I've made, but I'm learning not to dwell on them. So believe what you want in regards to regret. As for me, I'm slowly but surely finding freedom in letting go and living without it.
Monday, March 19, 2007
We Have Our Cake, and We're Eating It Too!
At one point, I said to a co-worker that it is a great time to be a girl in this country. He asked me how I could say that, given the fact that women only make 70 cents on the dollar compared to men.
Actually, according to Rutgers, women made 73% of what men made in 2000 (73 cents on the dollar). I can only imagine that this figure has improved, but even if it hasn't, I still stand by my original statement: It is a great time to be a girl.
To begin with, women in America currently have it better than most of the women at any point in history and better than many of the women of the world at this time. We have representation in the government, and our votes count for equal to a male's vote. We can define ourselves in any number of ways, none of which are restricted to how many babies we raise or how well our husbands are fed. In fact, many women are either waiting until later in life to marry or are choosing not to get married at all, preferring to stay single, which was not always an option unless one wanted to live with one's parents forever. We can own property without permission. Fewer of us die in childbirth than ever before, and birthcontrol is easily attainable with minimal side-effects. We can give and receive sex freely without being labeled publicly (meaning through the legal system) as immoral. We don't even need men to have babies anymore. So, when you think about the fact that even a century ago, women could not vote in federal elections and it was nearly impossible for a woman to succeed on her own without a man of some kind backing her, it is pretty remarkable that we have come as far as we have.
And I'll say it, as women in the United States, we are incredibly spoiled right now. (Women in other parts of the world do not always fare nearly so well.) For example, a woman in America today can choose whether she wants to stay at home or go to work. She can choose whether she wants to be single or get married. She can serve in the military (even though she can't fight in combat), but she can't be drafted. She can expect a man to hold the door for her, or she can get pissy about it. She can pick up the check or demand that the guy does. She can bash guys, especially single white guys, but they can't bash her. And even though it might be degrading, she can still use her sexuality to get what she wants, whether it be avoiding a traffic ticket by unbuttoning an extra button or getting the mechanic to run her car through the car wash by saying how nervous it makes her. She can also get almost anything she wants by crying, even though some of us refuse to invoke this method. In short, we women are currently having our proverbial cake and eating it, too.
Soon, the pendulum will start to swing the other way. It will dawn on men that we have "equal rights," and they will start looking at drafting us along with men into the military. Soon people will figure out that our equal rights are actually superior rights full of double standards. Soon, they will realize that for 27 cents more on every dollar, they could be getting far more from us.
Soon, the jig will be up, but in the meantime, I celebrate being a girl during one of the best periods and in one of the best places to be one.
Actually, according to Rutgers, women made 73% of what men made in 2000 (73 cents on the dollar). I can only imagine that this figure has improved, but even if it hasn't, I still stand by my original statement: It is a great time to be a girl.
To begin with, women in America currently have it better than most of the women at any point in history and better than many of the women of the world at this time. We have representation in the government, and our votes count for equal to a male's vote. We can define ourselves in any number of ways, none of which are restricted to how many babies we raise or how well our husbands are fed. In fact, many women are either waiting until later in life to marry or are choosing not to get married at all, preferring to stay single, which was not always an option unless one wanted to live with one's parents forever. We can own property without permission. Fewer of us die in childbirth than ever before, and birthcontrol is easily attainable with minimal side-effects. We can give and receive sex freely without being labeled publicly (meaning through the legal system) as immoral. We don't even need men to have babies anymore. So, when you think about the fact that even a century ago, women could not vote in federal elections and it was nearly impossible for a woman to succeed on her own without a man of some kind backing her, it is pretty remarkable that we have come as far as we have.
And I'll say it, as women in the United States, we are incredibly spoiled right now. (Women in other parts of the world do not always fare nearly so well.) For example, a woman in America today can choose whether she wants to stay at home or go to work. She can choose whether she wants to be single or get married. She can serve in the military (even though she can't fight in combat), but she can't be drafted. She can expect a man to hold the door for her, or she can get pissy about it. She can pick up the check or demand that the guy does. She can bash guys, especially single white guys, but they can't bash her. And even though it might be degrading, she can still use her sexuality to get what she wants, whether it be avoiding a traffic ticket by unbuttoning an extra button or getting the mechanic to run her car through the car wash by saying how nervous it makes her. She can also get almost anything she wants by crying, even though some of us refuse to invoke this method. In short, we women are currently having our proverbial cake and eating it, too.
Soon, the pendulum will start to swing the other way. It will dawn on men that we have "equal rights," and they will start looking at drafting us along with men into the military. Soon people will figure out that our equal rights are actually superior rights full of double standards. Soon, they will realize that for 27 cents more on every dollar, they could be getting far more from us.
Soon, the jig will be up, but in the meantime, I celebrate being a girl during one of the best periods and in one of the best places to be one.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Sick wuss, table for one
My life is a busy one, probably more so than most. I live on my own, I pay my bills on-time (usually), and I consider myself fully capable and independent. I'm single, and I'm quite okay with that-- usually. But this past week I found myself curled up in a ball on my bed, shivering, coughing, sore, and lonely. And for the first time in forever, I truly wished that I wasn't single.
What is it about a simple cold that can turn me into a co-dependent wuss? I am at a loss. Why does being sick make me wish I had a significant other? I really cannot tell you.
I guess I've come to find that despite my semi-feminist beliefs, my self-assuredness, my independence, and my invincibility, I still want to be taken care of; particularly when I'm sick. I'd love nothing more than to have someone around to drive me to the pharmacy, to rub my back when I cant sleep, and to supply me with endless amounts of 7up. Someone who would kiss my forehead with genuine concern and make everything better. Someone who would cuddle up next to me even if it meant that they might get sick.
If you're lucky enough, you have a great mom who did all of that for you when you were growing up. And if you're lucky enough, when you do grow up, you'll find the kind of person who will fill that role again-- not because you're needy, but just because it's one of the most genuine ways you can be cared for.
So I guess I'm in the inbetween-- a place of familiarity throughout one's 20s. But I think I'll be okay for now, and perhaps someday when I do grow up, I'll be lucky enough.
What is it about a simple cold that can turn me into a co-dependent wuss? I am at a loss. Why does being sick make me wish I had a significant other? I really cannot tell you.
I guess I've come to find that despite my semi-feminist beliefs, my self-assuredness, my independence, and my invincibility, I still want to be taken care of; particularly when I'm sick. I'd love nothing more than to have someone around to drive me to the pharmacy, to rub my back when I cant sleep, and to supply me with endless amounts of 7up. Someone who would kiss my forehead with genuine concern and make everything better. Someone who would cuddle up next to me even if it meant that they might get sick.
If you're lucky enough, you have a great mom who did all of that for you when you were growing up. And if you're lucky enough, when you do grow up, you'll find the kind of person who will fill that role again-- not because you're needy, but just because it's one of the most genuine ways you can be cared for.
So I guess I'm in the inbetween-- a place of familiarity throughout one's 20s. But I think I'll be okay for now, and perhaps someday when I do grow up, I'll be lucky enough.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Single on a Saturday Night Tip #1
One of the most difficult things about being single can be watching all your "couple" friends wander off in twos on "date night."
But to me, this is the thing that married people forget: Being single is wonderful in so many ways. People tend to define themselves only in terms of their sexuality, but people are so much more than that. We have so many dimensions, and to me, being single on a Saturday night is a perfect time to celebrate these. It's a perfect time to feed your other needs.
If you're sick of the typical club and bar scene, though, try this for something different.
Last year, my single girlfriends and I had a standing Saturday night "date" for about six months. Each Saturday night, we tried a new restaurant. The rules were as follows: It had to be under $20 a plate (preferrably including an alcoholic beverage), none of us could have ever eaten there before, no more than four people could go, we would rotate choosing the restaurant, and whoever chose the restaurant drove to the restaurant. In addition, we usually planned to go around 3:30 or 4:00 to beat the supper crowd. We found many of the restaurants from City Search, and I don't believe we once had a bad experience. We tried lots of great cuisine, including everything from mango shrimp at a Malaysian restaurant to sweet potato fries at a great little neighborhood joint with an awesomely sarcastic waitress.
There were many great things about this experience. To begin with, I never once envied my couple friends for their date night. Why would I? Every week I had a new and interesting experience to look forward to. In addition, it brought "us girls" closer together, and we would usually plan a movie or a museum or a night on the town afterwards. We have an extensive list of restaurants to choose from when we want to eat out, and we have some great stories to re-tell when we get together now. We still quote the sarcastic waitress: "Was it everything you hoped it could be and, oh, so much more?" We still go back to some of our favorite spots.
So, if you're single and wondering what to do in the upcoming weeks when the winter starts to bring you down, try getting a group of your single friends together for a restaurant sampling of your own city. There's no reason why couples should be the only ones with dates on Saturday night.
But to me, this is the thing that married people forget: Being single is wonderful in so many ways. People tend to define themselves only in terms of their sexuality, but people are so much more than that. We have so many dimensions, and to me, being single on a Saturday night is a perfect time to celebrate these. It's a perfect time to feed your other needs.
If you're sick of the typical club and bar scene, though, try this for something different.
Last year, my single girlfriends and I had a standing Saturday night "date" for about six months. Each Saturday night, we tried a new restaurant. The rules were as follows: It had to be under $20 a plate (preferrably including an alcoholic beverage), none of us could have ever eaten there before, no more than four people could go, we would rotate choosing the restaurant, and whoever chose the restaurant drove to the restaurant. In addition, we usually planned to go around 3:30 or 4:00 to beat the supper crowd. We found many of the restaurants from City Search, and I don't believe we once had a bad experience. We tried lots of great cuisine, including everything from mango shrimp at a Malaysian restaurant to sweet potato fries at a great little neighborhood joint with an awesomely sarcastic waitress.
There were many great things about this experience. To begin with, I never once envied my couple friends for their date night. Why would I? Every week I had a new and interesting experience to look forward to. In addition, it brought "us girls" closer together, and we would usually plan a movie or a museum or a night on the town afterwards. We have an extensive list of restaurants to choose from when we want to eat out, and we have some great stories to re-tell when we get together now. We still quote the sarcastic waitress: "Was it everything you hoped it could be and, oh, so much more?" We still go back to some of our favorite spots.
So, if you're single and wondering what to do in the upcoming weeks when the winter starts to bring you down, try getting a group of your single friends together for a restaurant sampling of your own city. There's no reason why couples should be the only ones with dates on Saturday night.
Friday, February 23, 2007
The Ex-Files
It’s been quite a week in the world of entertainment news. Britney shaved her head, Anna Nicole Smith’s bizarre life and death became even more bizarre, and, oh yeah-- my ex-boyfriend emailed me.
Why is this news? Because folks, I really thought this chapter in my life was over. To give some background, things didn’t end well. He dumped me, twice. And he broke my heart more times than I can count. He’s been inconsistent, unreliable, and generally unstable for most of the time that I’ve known him. And what do I do? Every time he decides that he needs me, I am there for him, regardless of the fact that I know he will run away and hurt me again.
I can’t help it. Logic tells me to delete his emails, and in fact, it was logic that lead me to attempt to cut off contact with him a few months ago. But logic doesn’t really resonate in my heart, and in my heart, for whatever reason, I really care for this messed-up semblance of a man. And regardless of the fact that I’m not giving him another go at a relationship while he still has so many issues, he still has the power to hurt me. And regardless of the fact that he holds this power, I can’t just decide that I don’t care about him. So in the end logic seems irrelevant, though it probably serves a wonderfully useful purpose.
So I’m holding my breath, closing my eyes, and jumping into a pool full of pins and needles hoping that, by some miracle, it will turn into water by the time I get there. I know that it wont. I know that it will hurt when I land. But I am predictable, and I will patch up all of my wounds (which will complement the scabs and scars already there, of course), and I will go stand by the diving board and wait to jump in again. It sounds twisted and dysfunctional, and by all means, it is. But I just keep hoping that someday I’ll hit water.
“As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.” --the Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
Why is this news? Because folks, I really thought this chapter in my life was over. To give some background, things didn’t end well. He dumped me, twice. And he broke my heart more times than I can count. He’s been inconsistent, unreliable, and generally unstable for most of the time that I’ve known him. And what do I do? Every time he decides that he needs me, I am there for him, regardless of the fact that I know he will run away and hurt me again.
I can’t help it. Logic tells me to delete his emails, and in fact, it was logic that lead me to attempt to cut off contact with him a few months ago. But logic doesn’t really resonate in my heart, and in my heart, for whatever reason, I really care for this messed-up semblance of a man. And regardless of the fact that I’m not giving him another go at a relationship while he still has so many issues, he still has the power to hurt me. And regardless of the fact that he holds this power, I can’t just decide that I don’t care about him. So in the end logic seems irrelevant, though it probably serves a wonderfully useful purpose.
So I’m holding my breath, closing my eyes, and jumping into a pool full of pins and needles hoping that, by some miracle, it will turn into water by the time I get there. I know that it wont. I know that it will hurt when I land. But I am predictable, and I will patch up all of my wounds (which will complement the scabs and scars already there, of course), and I will go stand by the diving board and wait to jump in again. It sounds twisted and dysfunctional, and by all means, it is. But I just keep hoping that someday I’ll hit water.
“As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.” --the Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
Friday, February 16, 2007
Just Say No to Bridesmaid Dresses
Like most single women, I have no fewer than two ugly bridesmaid dresses hanging in my closet. I have been three times a bridesmaid (never a bride), and I swear to God that I will never do it again. I understand that most married/engaged people will insist that this makes me a bastard. That's easy to say from their end of the aisle. They never have to do it again. I believe three times is quite enough, thank you. Anyone who asks me is getting turned down.
Despite my heartfelt conversations with all of my friends about never wanting to be in another wedding (pre-engagement, of course), they nevertheless continue to ask me to be the maid of honor. I do not capitalize this because I do not feel it is any particular honor, particularly after the last bridezilla told me that our other friend (who was too busy drinking to be aware of half the wedding and did none of the prep) was her best friend (on the day of the wedding).
I feel that brides are bitches. I don't care that it is their day. It is not their six months, yet they continue to act like it is. For months prior to the wedding, it consumes every conversation (and the conversations all cease once the blessed event has occurred), and hundreds of dollars worth of my hard-earned money. I spent nearly $1,000 on the last one, which I feel is excessive for anyone's special day, particularly someone who now has a new, and married I might add, best friend and little to no time to talk to me.
Because that's the thing, isn't it? Off the newly-wed goes into her club of married women where they look down on those of us who only have to wash one person's laundry, and all we get is an ugly dress. They get tax breaks, even though there's two of them, and fancy silver, and pretty china. I get the same ugly dress in several different shades.
I'm selling the dress, I've decided, as soon as I get it dry cleaned. I feel this is a wise move, especially because we are coming up on prom. Everyone when they see it says, "Ooo, you could even wear this to something else!" Never mind that I attend no event formal enough to require such a dress. Who re-uses bridesmaid dresses? Has anyone ever worn one a second time? Has anyone out there ever done something interesting with one? Perhaps made a kite from it?
If I get married someday (and that's a big "if"), I'm asking bridezilla to be my maid of honor, and I am going to torture her in every way that she tortured me. Either that, or I'm going to keep it nice and simple and get married at the courthouse. I'll cough up money for a photographer. Me and my party will wear jeans. I will have no maid of honor because I'm not into servants. It will be lovely, and no one will have to listen to one more butchered rendition of "The Wedding Song."
In the meantime, the dress hangs in my closet, taunting me because I know exactly how much money I paid to wear it a total of once. I cringe a little every time I think of the IPod I might have had if I had just said no.
Despite my heartfelt conversations with all of my friends about never wanting to be in another wedding (pre-engagement, of course), they nevertheless continue to ask me to be the maid of honor. I do not capitalize this because I do not feel it is any particular honor, particularly after the last bridezilla told me that our other friend (who was too busy drinking to be aware of half the wedding and did none of the prep) was her best friend (on the day of the wedding).
I feel that brides are bitches. I don't care that it is their day. It is not their six months, yet they continue to act like it is. For months prior to the wedding, it consumes every conversation (and the conversations all cease once the blessed event has occurred), and hundreds of dollars worth of my hard-earned money. I spent nearly $1,000 on the last one, which I feel is excessive for anyone's special day, particularly someone who now has a new, and married I might add, best friend and little to no time to talk to me.
Because that's the thing, isn't it? Off the newly-wed goes into her club of married women where they look down on those of us who only have to wash one person's laundry, and all we get is an ugly dress. They get tax breaks, even though there's two of them, and fancy silver, and pretty china. I get the same ugly dress in several different shades.
I'm selling the dress, I've decided, as soon as I get it dry cleaned. I feel this is a wise move, especially because we are coming up on prom. Everyone when they see it says, "Ooo, you could even wear this to something else!" Never mind that I attend no event formal enough to require such a dress. Who re-uses bridesmaid dresses? Has anyone ever worn one a second time? Has anyone out there ever done something interesting with one? Perhaps made a kite from it?
If I get married someday (and that's a big "if"), I'm asking bridezilla to be my maid of honor, and I am going to torture her in every way that she tortured me. Either that, or I'm going to keep it nice and simple and get married at the courthouse. I'll cough up money for a photographer. Me and my party will wear jeans. I will have no maid of honor because I'm not into servants. It will be lovely, and no one will have to listen to one more butchered rendition of "The Wedding Song."
In the meantime, the dress hangs in my closet, taunting me because I know exactly how much money I paid to wear it a total of once. I cringe a little every time I think of the IPod I might have had if I had just said no.
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