Good Dates Ruined by Company: Lessons in Courtship

Dear Friends,

Fun with Spinsters would not be “fun” if the alternative were not so often unfortunate.  I mean “dating.”  I mean having to gird oneself for the world of new faces across café tables hoping to connect with someone worth keeping around.  Most singles do it.  We are pushed to date because to be single is to be “lonely and sad.”  At least, that’s what my TV tells me. 

JCPenney “One-Day Sales!” do not advertise to singles.  You don’t see a single woman on those commercials smiling in her new business suit or embarking on a journey, new suitcase in hand, with a train ticket for one.  Singles, apparently, don’t need as much stuff as couples.  We’re not that beautiful, skinny lady with her well-dressed man and lovely, matching children.   We’re not worth the marketing expense until we decide to play along nicely.

Some feel these societal pressures and date against their will.  Friends, I feel for you, but stop doing that.  Either get out of the game if it pains you or join my camp--"Dating for Curious Cats" (campsite with full amenities, "take-a-hike" trails, and 24/7 wine bar).  Maybe I will meet the right person this time?  Maybe he or she is just one swipe of the dating app away?   

 

I enjoy being among the curious crowd.  I don’t need a partner to be fulfilled, but one could be fun.  Perhaps a romantic partner could be a credit to my life.  I know couples who are better because they are together.  If it happened for them, it could happen for me.

My dating philosophy is to cherish the good dates and to make mockery of the bad ones.  And I have had some bad dates.  I have met some shockingly self-absorbed people.  I have had doors slammed on me while the man walked in front.  I have waited an hour for a late date.  I have stepped into and sat in cars full of crap.  I have suffered the dementia of an ADD and ADHD suitor who couldn’t focus on me, or anything, for more than ten seconds.  I have been propositioned on the first date and then looked at in disgust after a polite “no.”  I have been told I’m wrong for being a Christian because I can’t prove any of it (that was on date one; there was no date two.)  Although terribly uncomfortable at the time, these dates have ignited my creative spirit.  As you will see, they make great writing material.

Here’s a case in point: This past spring, I met a handsome, educated, well-spoken man on a dating app.  We seemed to have a lot in common.  He wanted to meet me right away and was willing to drive an hour just to have coffee. With that immediate interest, I thought I was in for a good date.  That is, until he cancelled, out of nowhere, the night before saying he didn’t see a chance for us. (We hadn’t met yet.)  Then I get a text the next morning with a huge apology and explaining that he just hasn’t been on a date in a long time and got cold feet but would love to meet me for real.  He was so apologetic.  And I, you may not be surprised to hear, am so dumb.  I agreed.  Reader, I said “yes” despite the clanging warning bells that this guy may not be ready for a date.  Boy, was he not.

At the café, I selected a table facing the door so I would see him come in, ordered a cup of my favorite tea, and read my book while waiting (The Dubliners by James Joyce in preparation for my Ireland trip).  It was a great time—me, my book, hot tea—until my date showed up.  He was on time, but he was not on the clock for another relationship.  The man spent thirty minutes explaining what went wrong with his last girlfriend (TMI), how she wanted to do unspeakable, sexual things with him (TMI!), and that he was so, so over her (NOT). 

When my unfortunate date finally noticed I was there, he asked, “So, I see from your profile that you like art.”  Yes!  I do!  At last, here’s something on which we can connect!  Then, he continued, “I don’t really like art.  I don’t understand it and don’t think I ever will.”  Oh.  Then why bring it up????  Amazingly, right after that comment, I had an “emergency text” from my sister.  I had to go to the grocery store immediately to get a missing ingredient for a dish she was concocting just then.  Failure to collect the necessary ingredient would spell culinary disaster.  I could not ignore my sister’s call.  I politely excused myself and made no promises for a second date.  Even though any one could see this was a fake emergency, my delusional suitor thought the date had gone well enough to move in for a kiss.  Uh uh.  I dodged that like a footballer.  Only then did he realize I wasn’t interested.  We politely wished each other well in their romantic search, and my life returned to normal.

After that experience, among many similar disasters, I should surrender to singledom entirely.  But, I haven’t.  I still date.  I still swipe right looking for someone interesting.  I do that because even though Mr. Delusional-Not-Over-His-Ex was a bad date, I learned things from him.  He talked briefly about his home country and the traditions there, which was fascinating.  I would have liked to learn more under different circumstances.  Because, really, I love meeting people and hearing their stories.  My curiosity about other humans is insatiable, so even if a potential suitor reveals himself to be more frog than prince, I’m usually glad I met him.  You needn’t kiss all of them to know if they’re princes, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have something to share. Trust your instincts, and allow yourself a good chuckle when it’s over.  As long as you have an exit strategy (my sister has many culinary emergencies), it may be worth the adventure.

I know this philosophy bemuses people.  I get a fair amount of crap for being single.  Until a date with a man is better than a date with myself or my friends, I will have a good laugh and get back to what I want to do.  Don’t let bad company ruin your dates or your life.  And, when people ask you, after all those dates and all that education and all those travels and all those dreams, “Why are you still single?”, I hope you’ll respond with a confident grin, “Just lucky, I guess.”

Best wishes,

The Super Spinster

Spinsters Take the Emerald Isle!

Dear Friends,

The Cliffs of Moher

It is time for new melodies.  We cannot knit comfortably in our armchairs forever.  The world calls!  Comfort is a favorite song, but there are unheard melodies we cannot hear over the thrum of the familiar.  What is tried and true once was new, and although the world seems a cacophony of unknown sounds, we cannot hear other melodies until we leave our armchairs behind.

Craving a new beat, Rachel and I packed our bags to meet four friends in the land of green and Guinness—Ireland.  Also known as Éire, this island boasts lush, sheepy countryside, friendly people, and lively music.  There’s a fair amount of “refreshment”, too.  Friends, I won’t lie to you.  My fellow travelers and I, we “Buccaneers” (19th-century nickname for American women unleashed upon another country), had a few Guinnesses, a few whiskies, a few ciders, and a fair few pints of other sundry liquids.  We had to get in the Celtic spirit!  Not that we needed liquid courage to get to know the locals.  The Irish want to know everything about you—where you’re from, where you’re off to next, “No, don’t drink the Guinness until it’s settled!!”, and what brought you to their fair country.

My visit to Ireland was not just for adventure’s sake.  It was also a “Sister Trip” for me and Rachel.  Each year, Rachel and I put away our knitting for quality sister time.  Every other year is a grand adventure, like Prince Edward Island in 2015 and Ireland this year.  Years in between are smaller journeys, like a few days on Lake Huron or a long weekend with friends.  I got this idea from my friend and mentor Brenda who passed away from cancer last August.  She and her sisters did a trip each year.  Even as they got older, got married, had kids, and sadly, suffered cancer, they didn’t let life stop them from quality sister time.  I liked that and decided to honor Brenda’s memory and genius by starting sister trips of my own.  Besides, Rachel is my best friend.  She reminds me of the important things, like packing pajamas, taking my vitamins, and not bitching when things don’t go my way.  She takes her sisterly duties seriously.

The funny thing about “sisters” is that they are not always the people you expect.  Yes, your parents may give you a sister.  That is non consensual, but we live with it.  Then there are the sisters you choose.  They are your girlfriends, the women you invite into your life because they make it brighter.  They help you listen to the music and will yell over your familiar, skipping records when you are too deaf to listen to newer beats.

Luckily for me, my fellow Buccaneers are the sisters I chose—A, J, M, and L.  They each have their gifts. 

A in Bray

A is unfailingly positive and eager to try new places.  In Dublin, she was on a pilgrimage to the city’s many watering holes, squeezing into the busiest pubs, chatting up the locals, and jamming to their music.  She did rather well at this, and she hustled me into a few more pubs than I would have visited alone. 

High Tea in Howth

J yearns for unique places.  Rather than visit Dublin’s many tourist stops, she opted for high tea in a fishing village and a tour of a quiet, country manor house.  She also makes lovely biscuits, a most useful quality on an adventure. 

M Guided us into Only the Safe Alleys

M was the human compass.  She knew how to get her stumbling, tipsy comrades around Dublin with humor and grace.  When her internal compass failed, she had the technology to get us where our humble wi-fi-only phones could not.  We would have been lost without her. 

L Takes Flight

And L, well, she was our artist, our photographer who took such stunning pictures that we kept searching her for a fancy camera.  She has an eye for beauty.

Thanks to my fellow Buccaneers—Rachel, A, J, M, and L—I experienced Ireland as I never could have alone.  They watched over me, pushed me out of my comfort zone, kept me on the right track, fed me, and revealed the beauty all around.  Had I stayed at home, I would not have known what I was missing.  I would have missed the rhythms of Ireland and the harmony of six women conquering it together.  Now that I have returned, I cannot hear the same song I heard before.  I am different.  My ear is attuned to other melodies, and life sounds better than before.

When we escape the armchair, we risk feeling lonely or lost, not getting along, or forgetting who we are in the tumult of becoming something new.  In Ireland, (when we weren’t with M) we got lost, and we sometimes felt lonely in a foreign land.  We didn’t get along perfectly, but we worked it out.  In being away from work and home, we forgot about the professions and street addresses that used to define us.  It changed us as adventure does.  And even though we have returned to our six separate armchairs, we are still humming that new tune, sisters far apart yet still in perfect harmony.

The Buccaneers, Dublin

Cheers,

The Super Spinster

The Balance Sheet of Life

Dear Friends,

Megan Mahoney

If life is a balance sheet, most of us have found ourselves, once or twice, in the red.  A few checks are missing thanks to lost memories or misadventures.  Our balance sheets may weigh heavily on one side (books, travel, and schooling for me) but light on the other (romantic adventure and free time), and failed ventures show as “VOID” (that PhD program and its rejection letter or the move to Canada that never came through).  But, even though below the mark on many things, we have credits, too—family and friends, experience, sacred places, careers, mindsets.  The balance sheets of our lives may look alright, but couldn’t they be better?  I know mine could.  Time to find a teacher, a life accountant with a sense of balance and a low tolerance for unbalanced books.

Meet Megan Mahoney—wise woman, runner, fundraiser, world traveler, and yes, spinster.  Megan is a Michigander, works in the auto. industry, and loves her single life.  And what’s not to love?  She travels the world and rubs shoulders with her male colleagues who have no choice but to respect her expertise.  When on U.S. soil, she trains for marathons, skis, golfs, and visits friends and family all over.  When asked if she ever feels lonely, she laughs.  As if she has the time.  As if she doesn’t love coming home to her own place, neat or messy, as she pleases and when she pleases.  Megan believes in the balance sheet of life.  What are your credits?  What are your debits?  Do the people in your life (including prospective suitors) keep you in the red or put you in the black?  If those people don’t create a positive life flow, Megan says “goodbye.” Keep the balance or life will unbalance you.

Part of that balance, for Megan, is caring for her family. 

Megan and her Dad in Concert

A few years ago, Megan’s father passed away from acute myelogenous leukemia (AML), a blood and bone marrow cancer that rapidly attacks red blood cells.  Fewer than 20% of diagnosed AML patients live beyond five years after the cancer is found.  Sadly, Megan’s father was not one of those 20%.  Diagnosed on Sunday, July 12, 2012, Megan’s dad passed away on Sunday, January 12, 2013, exactly twenty-six weeks after his diagnosis.  Megan’s family has never been the same, but her father’s memory is far from lost.  Since his passing, Megan has joined the Leukemia Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training, a running group that also fundraises to support Michigan LLS patients.  Each year, she and her teammates corral their social networks, collect donations, and they hit the pavement in preparation for race day.   The training and fundraising starts in the brutal, post-holiday, January cold and culminates in May with the team members’ chosen races.  Megan’s race is the Bayshore Marathon in Traverse City, Michigan, where her family has a summer home along the race course.  On race day, she runs one mile for every week her father lived post diagnosis—all 26 of them plus .2 for good measure.

Megan's Team

This year, Megan, go-getter that she is, set her team a high fundraising goal.  Even though she already had been Bayshore’s top fundraiser for the last five years, Megan asked her team to raise even more.  She set their goal at $40,000.00 with a deadline of late May 2017.  That number was no mistake.  Megan turned forty-years wise this year.  From 2000-2014, 40% of cancer drugs have come from blood cancer research.  In 2016, LLS announced that it made the first breakthrough treatment for AML in the last forty years.  A few months later, LLS earmarked $40 million in research funds toward a cure.  It was a sign too perfect to ignore.  Megan rallied her team, and they dedicated themselves to raising $40k for LLS with the hashtag #AintFortyGrand.

Megan at Bayshore 2017

Forty is grand, but more can't hurt.  Running her own life and the hard miles to prepare for her marathon, Megan pushed her team to meet the challenge she had set.  And they did.  They more than did.  By the end of May, Megan’s team had raised $63,000.00.  The team exceeded her goal by $23,000.00!  Now that’s a positive life cash flow.

The balance sheet of Megan’s life may not be perfect—she wouldn’t claim it is—but she never settles for life in the red.  She seeks the activities and people who are a credit to her.  In Megan’s worldview, a negative report is not an end; it is a starting line to work for better.  Helping LLS to end blood cancer is the finish line, and she is happy to be on LLS’s relay team.  Although the miles and the dollars raised will never replace her dad, Megan doesn’t see her loss as a tragedy.  Rather, it was the starting gun for her race for others, to end the disease and honor her father’s memory. 

Megan at Bayshore 2017

When we audit our own life accounts, we should remember that we do not act alone.  Everyone around us raises us up or brings us down.  The same applies to our activities.  Do they keep us in the red, or do they help us into the black?  Megan reminds us that relationship status, age, loss, and hardship are surmountable obstacles.  They do not define who we are.  They just define our roads to happiness.  Nigh unstoppable in her pursuits, Megan knows how to balance her life, counting her credits in LLS dollars raised, friendships made, and miles run.  She is an inspiration and credit to everyone who knows her.  Whether hitting the pavement or the ski slopes, her life is balances toward happiness, and that, more than anything else, would have made her father proud.

Yours truly,

The Super Spinster



Little Megan and her Dad

P.S. For more information on LLS and Team in Training, please visit this link: http://www.teamintraining.org/

Team in Training