It's the most WONDERFUL tiiiiiiime of the yeeeeear!

Christmas is probably the hardest time to be single - even worse than Valentine's day. At least Valentine's day is one day, not a two-month-long season. What is UP with all these damn Christmas songs about being in love and missing the one you love and unrequited love. BLEH. Can't we just sing about Christmas trees and snow and Santa? (And not mommy making out with Santa either.) And while I am at it! Who the heck decided that some random semi-poisonous plant should inspire strangers to swap spit with each other in the name of holiday cheer? Weren't they worried about mononucleosis in the middle ages?!?

I am always reminded of one of my favourite Friends quotes when Rachel is lamenting being single at this dreadful time of year:
"Hey, y’know, at least you have somebody to miss that stuff with! I hate being alone this time of year! Next thing you know it’ll be Valentine’s Day, then my birthday, then bang!—before you know it, they’re lighting that damn tree again. Ohh, I want somebody! "
Someone who was single at Christmas obviously wrote that line for Jennifer Aniston. There is no way that someone who hasn't suffered through a bout of terminally singlehood would understand that type of holiday induced chagrin.

HOWEVER. One thing I am thankful for at this most wonderful time of the year is the ability to decide where I spend my holidays. Without a beloved man in my life, I don't have to spend the holidays driving between his family and mine or the agony of deciding who to spend Christmas with this year. The whole sharing the holidays thing is ridiculous. Why doesn't everyone meet in the middle? Why can't parents come to kids? Oh dear...I've started a rant again. Let's quit while I'm ahead.

True Story

This kind of speaks to my last post. And my general outlook on life. I spend so much time trying to acheive what I think I'm supposed to be that I don't pay enough attention to what IS being. Duly noted.

Accomplishment in the Eye of Society

For whatever reason, social convention has often led me to question my accomplishments. For example, I did not attend my 10-year reunion (mostly because I still talk to the people I want in my life...so why bother?) and I am very glad I didn't because I feel like the things I have accomplished since high school are insignificant. For those of you not acquainted with the author of this blog....in the past ten years I have gotten a Bachelor of Arts degree,a Bachelor of Education degree, and a Master of Education degree. I also spent 5 years developing my career and reputation as a teacher and started a cakey-type business. I know these are accomplishments and good ones at that. BUT! Somehow society has led me to belive those accomplishments are insignificant because I am not married, having children, or in any way attached to others in any other union other than friendship.

After explaining all that...I thoroughly enjoyed a moment this weekend where I ran into people I used to go to school with, both of which who are married, one has a child and another on the way, and neither is currently teaching. After standing there chatting and catching up while the aforementioned child ran wildly about....for once! I finally felt like I had the upper hand in the world of accomplishments. These former classmates were incredulous of the things I had done since we saw each other last.

So! While I am still single and feeling moderately inadequate in the realm of expected social accomplishments of your average 28 (almost 29) year-old....I take great pleasure in this small triumph of feeling like I've done something worthwhile in the past 10 years! Huzzah!!

28. Time to do what I want

So, maybe this makes me a weirdo...but I genuinely like hanging out with my parents (and the dog). My parents appreciate my somewhat strange sense of humour (thanks, Dad!) and have endless patience with my OCD ridiculousness. It is usually fun to go shopping with them or take the dog for a walk. Heck, even laying on the couch watching TV with them can be a hoot and a half. Plus, I sometimes have the most amazingly entertaining/frustrating conversations with my Dad that challenge my brain to think outside the box. That is a particularly exciting aspect of things when you consider I spend most of my time with 7 year olds...not too much critical thinking needed there! If I had a significant other, I probably wouldn't spend as much time hanging out with my parents as I do and that would be ten kinds of sad. And thus! Reason 28 being single is amazing is that I get to do whatever I want with my time - even if that means hanging out with my parents is my activity of choice!

Sidebar: Build it...

I was lamenting my current situation as lonely singleton in a world of couples today after school and some colleagues and I got to talking about solutions. The delightful ladies I was chatting with pointed out that another colleague of ours was single for a long time but then built a house, got a girlfriend, and has a baby on the way in just under a year. One of these ladies also pointed out that she was engaged, built a house, got married, and got a dog in just under a year. It seems that the catalyst here is the house building. Taking this revelation into consideration, it was decided that I should build a house and be sure to design some kind of extravagant man cave in the basement to lure the gentlemen callers into my life. A sort of "build it and they will come" philosophy. Now if only I wanted to build a house here.....

27. Bed Hog

When I stay at my parents' house, the dog usually sleeps on my bed. As much as I love that little fur bag, I sleep fitfully when my flipping and flopping is restricted by 22lbs of fur covered paper weight at the end of the bed. Can you imagine how little I would sleep if I had to share with a human-sized bed hog? The horror. I quite enjoy being able to kick and flail, spread out like a starfish, or wrap myself up in blankets like a 400-thread count burrito. Reason number 27 means the only bed hog I need to worry about is the dog....and he usually ditches out after the 6th or 7th time I've thrashed him off the bed.

A sleazy mustache retraction (sort of)

So. My wonderful father brought it to my attention this evening that HE has a mustache and that he was shocked to finally discover the truth that I have hated it all these years. Let me say this Dad(s), mustaches on a man of a certain age look distinguished. And besides, Dad has had a beard for practically his whole life. I'm 95% sure he came out of the womb with some kind of upper lip adornment. He has not grown his mustache for sport or EVER scultped into some kind of facial homage to Hulk Hogan or one of those creepy circus guys who carries around the dumbells. As such, I apologize for defaming my father's legitimate and most dignified moustache. (Even the spelling of moustache gives it an air of superiority, non?)