This, friends, is God's outrageous sense of humor (and His cultivation of mine).

I've said for years that I'm going to write a book. It will be chock full of important things to know, including but not limited to growing up in a large family, sharing bathrooms (and showers), how eating dirt won't kill you, and a slew of other helpful hints, mostly pertaining to interpersonal relations. 

Some find it ironic that I'd have anything to say on the subject, given my family's notorious irreverent behavior especially where personal boundaries are concerned. At least we keep it in the family! Meant to imply that if you visit us, your closeted skeletons, jokes about your junk, and the playful poking of your jugs are no longer off-limits. 

I digress. Outside of my home, I am wildly protective of my space. And as I've gotten older, it's become harder to hold onto. I think it's that people just don't know what to talk about, so they go for the obvious circumstances. Which brings us to Things Not to Say to a Single Woman: How Marriage Didn't Make You Any Smarter. 

Warning: you'll only find this funny if you're single. If you're married, try hard to remember what it was like before that.


Call me hypersensitive, call it a sore spot -- it's honestly none of those things. It just gets old, being the subject of speculation and, most often, the one you live vicariously through because your glory days are over. (Which, BTW, is the most common answer people give but I think it's a load of shit. I admire your efforts.) I'm sorry to deprive you of joy, but you'll live. I rather enjoy my singlehood and I'm in no hurry, though you seem to think that's wrong. I seem to think you shouldn't wear horizontal stripes but you don't see me waving that opinion around, now do you... 


I often wonder what makes people think it's okay to say what is on their mind. Everyone talks about how teenagers are missing the part of their brain which, when an idea fires off, is supposed to come back and tell them it's a bad idea. My theory is that a lot of people are missing the part of their brain/psyche which filters their speech and tells them whether or not something is about to make them look like a total ass. The irony is, most would never consider themselves one of 'those' people and are hereforth about to be positively mortified when they realize what I really think of their casual comments about my personal life.


(Note: I do love you. Really. Sarcasm is my spiritual gift and you unknowingly made yourself a target. So, thank you.)

Married people are the worst at unsolicited advice and remarks pertaining to all the reasons why someone is single. Apparently marriage renders you brilliant in this arena. Though you'd rarely hear comments about relationship status coming from the single people, and why? Because we know how annoying it is. And we wonder if you know how annoying it is. But we assume that you don't. And we don't like you for it.

Over the years, I've gotten every comment in the book. My personal favorite came from a friend I've known for several years, worked with very closely in many capacities, and just recently he gave me an incredulous look and said WHY AREN'T YOU MARRIED?! 

I was tempted to say I DON'T KNOW, WHY HAVEN'T YOU LOST WEIGHT but I kept my mouth shut. Silence never gets you in trouble in a situation like that. 

However- of all the things you could say that would garner a reaction, 'I have a guy you need to meet' is one of the most popular. Not because I'm enthusiastic, per se, but because I'm curious as to your reasoning. Also, I hope I don't turn ignorant like you when I get married. Most think WELL YOU'RE SINGLE AND HE'S SINGLE -- I THINK IT'S A GREAT FIT! and usually I just stare for a second until they start to get all shifty and uncomfortable and then they say I MEAN... YOU ARE SINGLE... RIGHT? WHAT...DO I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY TEETH...

If I could demonstrate a bigger eyeroll, I would.

I've come to realize that a lot of people are audacious, as if they don't realize the depth of their own presumption. I usually end up saying I'M GONNA LET YOU THINK ABOUT THAT ONE FOR A MINUTE and then I wait for it to dawn on them that comments about my personal life, along with those about how I turned out exceptionally normal for having been homeschooled, aren't always welcome. (If I'm feeling especially bitchy, a flat comment about how you went to public school and look how wonderfully you turned out, is generally what slips out.) Maybe I'm too private for my own good. I'm calling it now, I'll make a terrible pregnant lady because the idea of perfect strangers asking about my personal life (and, God forbid, touching me? Who ARE you?) makes me want to carry a shank. 

Comments are one thing. Setups are another. I've had my fair share of setups/blind dates over the years. There was the guy who showed up on my porch one night, blindfolded, and spouted a custom-written (and memorized) Shakespearean-esque sonnet as an elaborate way to ask me out on a 'blind' date. Or the guy who I went out with as part of a group date to the local giant corn maze, and given his engineering background, he studied that thing so hard and found his way out in no time. I took that as a sign. Or the time I was asked to go out with a guy not because they thought it was a good pairing, but nobody really knew his type so it was my job to figure it out. (Never mind that I totally failed covert operations.) He called no less than five times and hung up every time, so by the time I actually spoke with him I was already a little weirded out. Then he decided a good first date would be to sit on the floor at an Indian restaurant and eat with our hands. Fantastic. (My Papa always says when people say fantastic, they really mean bull shit. I would have to agree. Now you know.) Except we never even made it to that point, because he stumbled upon my family's Christmas blog (complete with the tongue-in-cheek annual letter, loaded with vehement sarcasm) and needless to say, he didn't think we were a good fit. My friends were livid, whereas I laughed uncontrollably.


What I'm trying to say is this: do us all a favor and think before you speak. That would be fantastic.