the only one who is only one

For me, living as a single person has been a long-term proposition -- only partly by choice. I don't like to think of myself as living in a bubble, or of not "putting myself out there" (ugh, what a terrible cliche). I'm pretty sure that I've taken more risks and moved through more zones of discomfort on my own than I ever did when I was in a relationship. 

That's not to say that I don't fantasize about someone coming along and seeing me for who I am (whatever that means)! And lord knows I've tried the personals, more than once. But I think the holiday funk I usually fall into mostly has to do with feeling like an "odd woman" -- like one of the Victorian gentlewomen in the George Gissing novel who were "left over" after all the men were married off. It's not a coincidence that "odd" [also] means "strange."

I find it annoying when people in long-term relationships tell me that they have problems, too. This is partly because when I get to the point of needing to talk about the way I'm feeling, I'm hoping to talk to someone who will try to understand what I'm saying. But it's also because when people talk about relationships being hard they are forgetting that relationship problems are "normal,"  whereas being single is . . . odd. The norm of being part of a couple (not to mention having kids) exerts a pressure that is not so different from the norms of appearance or sexual orientation. I feel that pressure, and I sometimes feel like there's something wrong with me. I reject that notion, of course, but my feelings don''t always fall in line with my convictions. 

armistice day

From John Quiggin at Crooked Timber:

[F]or rich countries, war no longer has any real impact on most people. As in the 19th century, we have small professional armies fighting in faraway countries and suffering relatively few casualties. Tens of thousands of people may die in these conflicts, but the victims of war impinge on our consciousness only when they seek shelter as refugees, to be turned away or locked up.

relief

I want to write more than I've done recently. Here's a start.

I was pessimistic about young Josh Harder's chances on election night and for a couple of days thereafter. But I was wrong. I had forgotten about the mail ballots. It was a relief, though, that Dems flipped the House, unambiguously, that night. And now the Senate doesn't look as bad as it did.

So, assuming we make it to January, things will seem less hopeless. More rancor, once the Dems start investigating, and possibly some division in the Dem ranks -- here's hoping they hold together. Meantime, Trump is escalating, always. It's exhausting and demoralizing.

I'm hunkered down today. The sky is yellow with smoke from the fires. It's distressing to think about all the damage being done to homes and lives.