Seems like this “All things single” blog has been a bit neglected of late. Sorry about that. I have been happily busy with lots of things. I’m getting that new-ways-of-living project off the ground, doing all the interviews I can afford to do on my own dime in order to be able to write a compelling enough proposal to get a book contract. That means either interviewing people I can get to easily by train or car, or visiting friends who can put me up for free. If I do get a contract, then I will be less constrained by costs.
In January 2010, I wrote a post for my Living Single blog called Not going nuclear: So many ways to live and love. In it, I wondered about a fundamental question of our lives – how do we choose to live, now that we don’t all live in the sentimentalized nuclear family household comprised of mom, dad, and the kids – and no one else – all under one roof? How do different arrangements work out, with regard to fulfilling our needs and desires? How can each of us achieve just the right mix of time alone and time with others?
What can you possibly learn about a country from your first trip there that lasts just a few days? Maybe nothing representative, but I’ll share my observations anyway. I already posted about the professional experience over at Living Single, Single-at-Heart in Holland, so this is the more quirky stuff.
Back during my East Coast days, there was a year when a colleague invited me to go to her daughter’s play on the 4th of July. I don’t like doing that sort of thing all the time, but I do enjoy kids’ performances occasionally, so that was fine. The play was around noon, so I figured we’d spend the rest of the day together.
I usually do not cross-post from my Living Single blog. Instead, I write different posts for Psychology Today and All Things Single, with the latter sometimes a bit more personal. In case there are people who read this blog but not my Living Single blog, I wanted to repost about Friendsight: What Friends Know that Others Don’t.
When I first focused on the study of singles and singlism, I was a tenured full professor at a major university and I thought I would continue to be a full-time academic until the day I retired — which I assumed would be decades into the future. That was in the late 1990s. I never would have guessed that by the year 2000, my planned one-year sabbatical would turn into something else entirely.
You know that scare story about how if you are single, you will grow old alone? My fear is that I WON’T grow old alone! I don’t mean that I want to be socially isolated. Like so many other single people, I have friends and family, and I don’t expect that to change. I also don’t mean that I’m worried about not living long enough to grow old, though I do have bad longevity genes. (My mother died at 71 and my father at 64. They were married for more than four decades, so don’t blame their short lives on singlehood!)