Let me explain the work first, and then I’ll get to the men: When I was working on my Ph.D., I was a full-time student with teaching responsibilities two of the four years. I loved it all, but by the time my final year rolled around, I was focused solely on completing the dissertation. The dissertation became my life: I woke up thinking about it, I became a runner to escape from it, I cooked to calm my mind, and I planned out my daily writing goals before heading to bed.

The work confirmed what I’d always known – I love diving into a subject, finding out everything there is to know, and saying something new about it. I felt like I was meant to work in academia. And indeed, I think this life is perfectly suited for me – but not for reasons I could have anticipated. I arrived in Beirut primarily excited about four things: a) having a job, b) living overseas, c) developing my (mostly theoretical) dissertation research into a book, and d) beginning new research unique to this place. I imagined that my life as a professor would be similar to my life as a graduate student – working in isolation for hours or days at a time, but with teaching commitments and the occasional departmental meeting.

After arriving here, my excitement dwindled as I grew frustrated with little nuisances (such as the power outages and lack of home internet) and bigger ones (including an insane number of department/faculty/committee meetings, whiny students, and a semester that extended beyond Christmas). I felt so busy when I arrived, I didn’t know when or how I’d ever get to my research. I felt like my time was being stolen by my students and my department – and whenever I arrived home, I was too exhausted to think. The last thing I wanted to do was revise my stupid dissertation.

Finally, at some point early in December, I managed to make a little time for my new research project. I stole two hours and holed myself up in the university archives one afternoon. I didn’t think about teaching, or meetings, or the fact that all my Facebook friends in the U.S. were grading end-of-semester essays when I still had 5 weeks of class to go. I only thought about the archives. I emerged feeling refreshed and energetic. From that point forward, I kept finding ways to “steal time” like that. Those hours kept me sane through the end of the semester, and giving myself permission to do the work I came here to do gave me an unbelievable sense of empowerment. Suddenly teaching didn’t seem so onerous; the meetings weren’t so long – suddenly I had work to do, and it was my work.

Fast-forward two months, and “my” work isn’t just located in the archives. Spring semester begins next week, and I am co-writing a proposal for a Master’s degree in my field, designing a one-of-a-kind longitudinal study with a colleague, and working on a collaborative teaching project with four other instructors. The meetings never end, the students will (probably) be the same, and I am ten times as busy as I was last semester, but when I go to bed at night I feel enormously satisfied. I had no idea I was capable of managing so many projects at once; I didn’t know I would enjoy collaborative work so much; and I didn’t know I could focus on my research for short spurts and still be productive. I certainly didn’t know that this work, this job would make me happier than I’d been as a graduate student.

So… What about the men, you wonder? Well, that’s (almost) my point – what about the men? In the last few months, a handful of men seem to have become enamored of me. A few years ago, I would probably have considered dating at least one of them (if not more!) – even though it’s clear to me that none of them are a good fit (one is a grad student – totally off limits in my book!; one is attractive and interesting, but about 15 years older than me and doesn’t seem to have a sense of humor; and another is simply unattractive to me and has a weird voice – not that I judge people or anything). Regular readers of Onely know that I’ve never been one to shun dating or expressing one’s sexuality. I’ve dated people off and on since Christina and I started the blog. And I’ve never been all that picky – if a man shows an interest in me, I tend to give him a chance.

Although I’m flattered by the attention I’ve received recently, and although I’ve often dated “for fun,” I don’t plan to date any of these men. Why? Honestly, I think it’s because, for the first time in my life, I’m simply not dissatisfied anymore. I feel there are far too many interesting things to get done (and there is far too much at stake) for me to spend my time dating men I only feel ambivalent about.

Plus, I’m so damn happy! Who needs anything else?

– L

photo credit: http://toomas-marit.hinnosaar.net/en/varia/Heart.jpg

My intrepid co-blogger Lisa introduced me to this traditional Japanese poetry form, which the 17th century poet Basho believed embodied the notion of “refraining from stepping back” (this is according to Wikipedia, not Lisa, whose knowledge does have some limits). Because the spirit of Renga is moving forward in constant change, what better artistic venue is there for paradigm-shattering singles advocates like us?

Copious Readers, let’s use the Comments feature to create an ongoing collaborative Renga about singlehood–its culture, challenges, quirks, aspirations.

Renga works like this: The first poet composes a haiku, which consists of three lines, with five, seven, and five syllables respectively. For example:

Coming home alone

Velvet silence suits me fine

My own blessed space

Then someone else does the next verse, which contains two lines, each with seven syllables.

Just one problem: If I trip

On the stairs, cats will eat me.

The next participant adds a third verse, again with the 5-7-5 pattern.

Such stereotypes–

Dead alone, pity, selfish–

Scare us to marriage

Copious Readers, who will determine the narrative flow by adding the next verse (7-7)?

–Christina

Photo credit: Mark Brannan

But what’s going on when a Oneler literally has a dream about getting married?

I’m not sure, but I can say this: It’s unsettling… Just over a week ago, I woke up at 4am remembering that I’d almost gotten married; as I put the strange pieces together and recalled the emotions I felt during the dream, I worried: did my psyche just make me a traitor to my Oneliness?

Here’s what happened: I was minding my own business, hanging out with a man of slight proportions (he was short and slim, and otherwise generally unattractive to me), when all of a sudden… I was preparing to get married! The man disappeared, and I headed to the ceremony: I was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a pink tank-top. I remember feeling a little embarrassed but thought it wouldn’t matter much. I arrived at the ceremony, and found that it was to be held in the lobby of a cheap-looking hotel — the surroundings reminded me of a ’50s-era Howard Johnson motel (something like this). In one corner of the lobby, a group of men in business attire huddled together, ignoring the small group of people waiting for me. Everyone (except for the men in business suits) was sitting on the floor. The man I had been with before materialized and was also on the floor (kneeling instead of sitting). I was expected to kneel too. As I made my way to my “position” in front of everyone, I remember feeling very uncomfortable – all eyes were on me and I didn’t feel “beautiful” or “happy.” Honestly, I didn’t feel much of anything (except discomfort). I certainly didn’t want to be married, but I didn’t feel I could resist, either. So I was prepared to go through with it, with a man whom I didn’t find particularly attractive or engaging. And then it turned out that my betrothed had neglected to write his vows, and it turned out I was about to marry a lazy unattractive idiot, which added to my general embarrassment, and then…

I woke up. And thank god for that, because – holy shit! – I almost got married

Perhaps it was the jetlag (I just returned from the U.S.), but I find it significant that I couldn’t fall asleep after that. I just kept replaying the dream in my mind, wondering where in the world it had come from, how I could possibly have given in to the “dream” of marriage – especially when I didn’t want it, didn’t like my future spouse, and wasn’t even dressed appropriately!

Copious Readers, I hope you can help me interpret this: What does it mean when a Oneler dreams about marriage?

– Lisa

photo credit: Varia

Onely’s long-time mission is to fight discrimination against singles. But lately we’re considering abandoning our quest. Why bother, when the very fabric of the universe is stacked against us?

Today we’re examining the super-fast “runaway” stars that streak through the Milky Way. Scientists originally thought that the stars used to be one of a pair of stars. A runaway star, they reasoned, was “fleeing a partner that exploded in a supernova,” according to  an article in New Scientist magazine (26 November 2011, p.17).

I liked this theory. The runaways had left their volatile, oppressive partner stars, preferring to zip around the galaxy as single stars. Or I guess you could say maybe the runaways had been dumped–it all depends on how you interpret, And so, then my significant other exploded in a supernova. . .

Either way, I was like “Go Single Star Power! Rah rah!” But then New Scientist burst my bubble. It turns out that runaway stars are actually victims of couplemania, or the privileging of the couple unit. Researchers have recently learned that the runaway stars are not halves of broken-up pairs at all. They are actually single stars that tried to hang out in orbit with a committed star couple. They gained their burst of speed when they were

booted out because the trio was gravitationally unstable.

Well you know the old saying, Two’s company, three’s gravitationally unstable. Or as New Scientist puts it,

Single stars that try to come between a stellar pair are flung away at breakneck speeds

Even though the star was just trying to be friendly. And that’s why Onely is giving Mother Nature a B*tchslap this week.

–Christina

Photo credit: Jem Yoshioka

Never fear! Just go to the new compendium of enlightened singles’ blogs at Single with Attitude, a site set up by singles scholar Bella DePaulo. Fresh posts from the different blogs feed to the top of the page–posts from Onely and other sites you may know from our blog roll, and posts from new voices you may discover you like.

Check it out.

–Christina