Back in 2004-ish I wrote a series of articles for a start-up website called RelationshipWellBeing.com. The site was intended to bring together a number of relationship "experts" to discuss aspects of, well, relationships. Amidst the psychologists and therapists there was I, talking about being single, dating, and breaking up from a young woman's point of view. My work got a pretty positive reaction even if the website did not reach the heights its team aspired towards. The site, after years of inactivity, has since gone offline and as a result so have my articles. In an effort to keep them online I am going to be reposting them here. After all, this did start off as a blog about singles' issues. Just bear in mind that these articles are a few years old and as such may not reflect some current situations in society, the online world, and my life.
This article was written before the rise of social networking sites. Facebook is probably the ultimate example of the points I am trying to make here. Of course, the user fees no longer apply, making digging through one's past all the more attractive since there is no financial cost involved. The emotional costs, however, remain the same.
Living in the Past
“Someone is trying to connect with you.”
“Find an old friend right now.”
“Search for anyone, anytime.”
Barely a day goes by without me receiving some sort of e-mail advertisement enticing me to look up someone from my past. For a fee, of course.
The purveyors of companies that do personal searches are making some very big assumptions. They are assuming there is actually someone for whom you would be willing to shell out the shekels just to track down. And in the event that there is some former friend you would want to reach out and touch, your shekels would go down the drain to learn that he or she is not interested in communicating with you.
Obviously though, for some people it is worth the risk, otherwise these companies would not be in business. While I haven’t done any scientific studies on this topic, most of the people who utilize such services are probably either looking for an old flame, or trying to reconnect with someone they had a crush on way back when.
One of the better-known purveyors of the past is an online service that allows one to hook up with old schoolmates. I admit that while it is very interesting to see the names of my old classmates all lined up and teasing for me to take a look, I have yet to bite the bullet and actually pay the required fee.
I find myself having to question my motives before I whip out my credit card. It is normal to wonder what happened to people that you knew, especially those who you presumably cared about. This is called natural curiosity. It’s also normal to see if that tramp who stole your boyfriend in high school married him or ended up pregnant and dumped. Or, if the class jock who thought he was such hot stuff and used to give you wedgies is now in rehab. This is called morbid curiosity.
I am willing to bet that the majority of people who utilize services that purvey a blast from the past, have secret hopes of picking up where they left off. People who are still single and, in times of loneliness or just extreme sentimentality, harken back to the good times they had with that special someone. We tend to romanticize the past – we focus on the aspects of long-lost relationships that were positive, and miss them. But we also have to remember that an ex is an ex for a reason.
Then there are those who have had a long-standing secret crush on someone. Perhaps they were too shy back in high school to voice their feelings. Or the person was taken, or otherwise not interested. But if you are still single, or single again, and finding a desire to reach out and touch someone from days gone by, ask yourself this question: Will it really improve your fragile state of mind any, to find out that the cute guy who sat next to you in grade eight is now married with three children? Is a priest? Is undergoing a gender reassignment?
Then again, closure is an important aspect of moving on.
Digging into the past can extend beyond the romantic sphere, and into our day-to-day social lives. A former teacher of mine once told the class that when a certain group of his friends get together, all they can talk about is high school. Yes, it is an important time of life, but for some reason something was holding these people back from talking about anything that occurred after senior prom. And I have to admit that I do tend to discuss my university days quite often. It was a time in my life when my attitudes and worldview took a major turn, my career was chosen, and I began to embark upon what became a string of romantic disasters. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
Thanks to the Internet, checking up on someone is easy as long as the other person has some sort of online presence. A friend of mine who recently completed graduate school in journalism, told me that a popular pastime amongst the students was “Googling” their ex-boyfriends and girlfriends. But very few actually dared to make contact. Satisfying the urge to answer the question, “Where are they now?” was enough.
And if living in the past is distracting you from moving on, enough certainly is enough. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting about failed relationships or long-lost friends. But if our hearts and minds are always in the past, then we will not have enough energy left to head towards the future.
Paula E. Kirman is a freelance writer in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Her website is: www.MyNameIsPaula.com.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Update on a Weekend of Writing, Music, Photos
Yesterday was a rare day for me. I actually relaxed and took some time for myself. I headed to a nearby cafe (on foot - it was too windy to ride) with a book I have been meaning to finish, and actually got through it. No marches, rallies, meetings, or events. Just me, a cup of chai, and The Shack.
My latest article for the Phoenix Multi-Faith Society is "A House of Understanding and Cooperation: The EMCN's Trinity Manor". I also wrote one about the Genocide Memorial Garden dedication ceremony I attended last week, but it hasn't been posted yet.
The Spring issue of Prairie Books Now is online and available to download. On Friday, we put the July/August issue of Boyle McCauley News to bed. The July issue of the SPURR has been delayed by a couple of weeks due to circumstances beyond our control. I spent part of yesterday doing some editing to make sure everything is fresh and timely when we hit print.
On Friday evening I took part in Critical Mass. June is Bike Month, so it's the biggest Critical Mass of the year. The weather held out until we started to ride at 5:30 in front of City Hall. Then, the sun went away and the wind kicked up. Fortunately, we made it through without anyone getting blown away. Here are some pictures. Afterwards, a knight in shining armour picked me up in his van, and we went to Edmonton's only Chinese drive-through at Panda Hut Express.
On Saturday I went back to the congregation for the first time in around two months. I gave the Torah homily, which was also featured on the UMJC's Torah study list and on their website. I also ended up playing guitar with worship, as apparently things have been a cappella as of late. I managed to tune my guitar to the piano.
What was especially thrilling about the service was that I met Sarah, Phil and Trish's new baby who was just born on Tuesday. I'm definitely getting to be more of a "kid" person. In fact, on Friday afternoon before Critical Mass, I helped a friend babysit a few of his grandkids - two girls under the age of five and a six month old baby. And apparently, there is a name for women like me: PANK. Professional Auntie, No Kids.
For lunch, I went to a new pho restaurant called Pho Hoang Pasteur. Then, it was off to Louise McKinney Park for Jazz in the Park, a free afternoon concert as part of Jazz City. In addition to the bands (which included local favourites Bomba and Alfie Zappacosta), there was food, a beer tent, and an instrument petting zoo where kids could check out and try the instruments. Needless to say, there were some interesting sounds coming from the pagoda. Here is a look. The act I came to see, and was not disappointed by, was Ndidi Onukwulu who is a female vocalist from B.C. performing a mix of jazz, blues, rock, soul, and worldbeat. I really enjoyed the variety in her sound.
As I approached the festival area, I was taken by an installation of an office cubicle sitting right there in the park. It was part of The Works visual arts festival, and certainly made me think about workplaces and office space.
So that is pretty much a summary of the past few days, if you add in a few coffees with friends, guitar playing, housecleaning, and learning to throw a football.
My latest article for the Phoenix Multi-Faith Society is "A House of Understanding and Cooperation: The EMCN's Trinity Manor". I also wrote one about the Genocide Memorial Garden dedication ceremony I attended last week, but it hasn't been posted yet.
The Spring issue of Prairie Books Now is online and available to download. On Friday, we put the July/August issue of Boyle McCauley News to bed. The July issue of the SPURR has been delayed by a couple of weeks due to circumstances beyond our control. I spent part of yesterday doing some editing to make sure everything is fresh and timely when we hit print.
On Friday evening I took part in Critical Mass. June is Bike Month, so it's the biggest Critical Mass of the year. The weather held out until we started to ride at 5:30 in front of City Hall. Then, the sun went away and the wind kicked up. Fortunately, we made it through without anyone getting blown away. Here are some pictures. Afterwards, a knight in shining armour picked me up in his van, and we went to Edmonton's only Chinese drive-through at Panda Hut Express.
On Saturday I went back to the congregation for the first time in around two months. I gave the Torah homily, which was also featured on the UMJC's Torah study list and on their website. I also ended up playing guitar with worship, as apparently things have been a cappella as of late. I managed to tune my guitar to the piano.
What was especially thrilling about the service was that I met Sarah, Phil and Trish's new baby who was just born on Tuesday. I'm definitely getting to be more of a "kid" person. In fact, on Friday afternoon before Critical Mass, I helped a friend babysit a few of his grandkids - two girls under the age of five and a six month old baby. And apparently, there is a name for women like me: PANK. Professional Auntie, No Kids.
For lunch, I went to a new pho restaurant called Pho Hoang Pasteur. Then, it was off to Louise McKinney Park for Jazz in the Park, a free afternoon concert as part of Jazz City. In addition to the bands (which included local favourites Bomba and Alfie Zappacosta), there was food, a beer tent, and an instrument petting zoo where kids could check out and try the instruments. Needless to say, there were some interesting sounds coming from the pagoda. Here is a look. The act I came to see, and was not disappointed by, was Ndidi Onukwulu who is a female vocalist from B.C. performing a mix of jazz, blues, rock, soul, and worldbeat. I really enjoyed the variety in her sound.
As I approached the festival area, I was taken by an installation of an office cubicle sitting right there in the park. It was part of The Works visual arts festival, and certainly made me think about workplaces and office space.
So that is pretty much a summary of the past few days, if you add in a few coffees with friends, guitar playing, housecleaning, and learning to throw a football.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
My Life in the Movies
Back in 2004-ish I wrote a series of articles for a start-up website called RelationshipWellBeing.com. The site was intended to bring together a number of relationship "experts" to discuss aspects of, well, relationships. Amidst the psychologists and therapists there was I, talking about being single, dating, and breaking up from a young woman's point of view. My work got a pretty positive reaction even if the website did not reach the heights its team aspired towards. The site, after years of inactivity, has since gone offline and as a result so have my articles. In an effort to keep them online I am going to be reposting them here. After all, this did start off as a blog about singles' issues. Just bear in mind that these articles are a few years old and as such may not reflect some current situations in society, the online world, and my life.
In this particular article, the movie examples I cite are somewhat dated (although still perfectly relevant to the points I am trying to make) and contrary to what I say about myself in the fist line, I have since become a movie buff.
My Life in the Movies
I’m not a movie person, so it was very much against my nature to watch two movies in one week: My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Mambo Italiano.
I’ve been meaning to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding, for, oh, about two years now – but I just never got around to it. Commitment has always been a problem for me. Plus, after seeing trailer after trailer for it, and from the many comments of other people, I think I had the storyline pretty down pat. And I did. Not only because of the giveaway remarks, but when ethnicity and over-protective parents collide, I think I have the basic plot pretty well down pat.
It was this exact combination that was one of the reasons I delayed seeing the movie for so long. I was afraid that Toula’s overbearing father would remind me too much of my own parents. Coming from a traditional Jewish family, the pressure to marry someone of the same religion is pretty much the same as on her to marry someone Greek. I live that life everyday – I don’t have to see it on the screen, be it big or small. To me, that’s not entertainment – that’s masochism.
While seeing the movie was not as painful an experience as I had anticipated, I did not find My Big Fat Greek Wedding to be particularly funny. Don’t get me wrong – it was a wonderful hour and a half of pure escapist entertainment, which I could measure by the time that flew by with nary a bathroom break – but it also didn’t run particularly deep. It moved along too quickly, the characters were one-dimensional, and frankly, I found Toula’s parents’ turnaround at the end to be contrived. But then again, perhaps that’s just me putting my own baggage into the storyline.
And then, there was Mambo Italiano. Another hour and a half of a similar theme, except this time the family was Italian, and it was a gay couple at the center of the film. This movie was Greek Wedding on steroids – the parents were far more stereotypically smothering and guilt-inflicting than their Greek counterparts. The way the parents bickered with each other, the neurotic relatives, the emphasis on living up to the expectations of others – this resonated with me deeply. My mother always told me that Jews and Italians have a lot in common. We’re both very clean people, with strong family values. She would know – she grew up in a New York Jewish neighborhood, interspersed with Italians.
Both movies deal with breaking traditions, while Mambo Italiano digs far deeper into issues in approximately the same amount of time. I’m not gay, but I could easily relate to Angelo’s desire for his parents to accept him for who he is, while at the same time strive to be “normal” in spite of one’s upbringing (which, of course, was done with the best of intentions on the parents’ part). I laughed more deeply, and cried harder. It made me relive scenes from my childhood. And it was much cheaper than visiting a therapist!
The role of ethnicity in relationships has much to do with our families of origin. If your family did not care about whether or not you dated or married outside of your culture, then odds have it that you didn’t care either. But if preserving ethnic bloodlines, heritage, or simply carrying a deep-seated cultural pride into a romantic relationship was the expectation, the voices of our parents carry on with us, even if we choose partners of a different culture.
Traditions, customs, and even simple things such as how to spend mealtimes and holidays, are all things that need to be negotiated in relationships. Like in Greek Wedding, with marrying someone of a different culture comes the fear of not carrying on those traditions. And in Mambo Italiano, living a different lifestyle altogether is a threat to a cultural dynamic (as Angelo says to the anonymous therapist on the Gay Helpline, there is nothing worse for an Italian than being gay).
For me, being Jewish is an important part of who I am, mainly because it was important to my parents. Even when I at times am not being the model of a nice Jewish girl, I never forget where I come from. Which was not always functional (and still isn’t), and I am quick to poke fun at many of the stereotypical aspects of my parents and peers.
But when the cards are put on the table in a relationship, my Judaism is not negotiable. When a man cannot deal with my desire to join me as I maintain my sometimes tenuous connection to my heritage, I am gone. But to my parents, if a man is not Jewish, he is not acceptable, period -- even if he buys into my lifestyle hook, line, and kosher.
My parents and I are living examples of the changing attitude towards the role of ethnicity in relationships, from one generation to the next. To risk sounding too much like Reb Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof, on the one hand we have the desire to hold on to a part of ourselves, while on the other hand, we seek to separate from our families and forge our own identity. Choosing the “right” partner takes precedence over choosing someone with the same background as ourselves.
Movies like My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Mambo Italiano are becoming the storylines for the lives of more and more people. Who knows? Maybe one day I will be starring in one of my own.
Paula E. Kirman is a writer, editor, and website designer in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Her website is: www.mynameispaula.com
In this particular article, the movie examples I cite are somewhat dated (although still perfectly relevant to the points I am trying to make) and contrary to what I say about myself in the fist line, I have since become a movie buff.
My Life in the Movies
I’m not a movie person, so it was very much against my nature to watch two movies in one week: My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Mambo Italiano.
I’ve been meaning to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding, for, oh, about two years now – but I just never got around to it. Commitment has always been a problem for me. Plus, after seeing trailer after trailer for it, and from the many comments of other people, I think I had the storyline pretty down pat. And I did. Not only because of the giveaway remarks, but when ethnicity and over-protective parents collide, I think I have the basic plot pretty well down pat.
It was this exact combination that was one of the reasons I delayed seeing the movie for so long. I was afraid that Toula’s overbearing father would remind me too much of my own parents. Coming from a traditional Jewish family, the pressure to marry someone of the same religion is pretty much the same as on her to marry someone Greek. I live that life everyday – I don’t have to see it on the screen, be it big or small. To me, that’s not entertainment – that’s masochism.
While seeing the movie was not as painful an experience as I had anticipated, I did not find My Big Fat Greek Wedding to be particularly funny. Don’t get me wrong – it was a wonderful hour and a half of pure escapist entertainment, which I could measure by the time that flew by with nary a bathroom break – but it also didn’t run particularly deep. It moved along too quickly, the characters were one-dimensional, and frankly, I found Toula’s parents’ turnaround at the end to be contrived. But then again, perhaps that’s just me putting my own baggage into the storyline.
And then, there was Mambo Italiano. Another hour and a half of a similar theme, except this time the family was Italian, and it was a gay couple at the center of the film. This movie was Greek Wedding on steroids – the parents were far more stereotypically smothering and guilt-inflicting than their Greek counterparts. The way the parents bickered with each other, the neurotic relatives, the emphasis on living up to the expectations of others – this resonated with me deeply. My mother always told me that Jews and Italians have a lot in common. We’re both very clean people, with strong family values. She would know – she grew up in a New York Jewish neighborhood, interspersed with Italians.
Both movies deal with breaking traditions, while Mambo Italiano digs far deeper into issues in approximately the same amount of time. I’m not gay, but I could easily relate to Angelo’s desire for his parents to accept him for who he is, while at the same time strive to be “normal” in spite of one’s upbringing (which, of course, was done with the best of intentions on the parents’ part). I laughed more deeply, and cried harder. It made me relive scenes from my childhood. And it was much cheaper than visiting a therapist!
The role of ethnicity in relationships has much to do with our families of origin. If your family did not care about whether or not you dated or married outside of your culture, then odds have it that you didn’t care either. But if preserving ethnic bloodlines, heritage, or simply carrying a deep-seated cultural pride into a romantic relationship was the expectation, the voices of our parents carry on with us, even if we choose partners of a different culture.
Traditions, customs, and even simple things such as how to spend mealtimes and holidays, are all things that need to be negotiated in relationships. Like in Greek Wedding, with marrying someone of a different culture comes the fear of not carrying on those traditions. And in Mambo Italiano, living a different lifestyle altogether is a threat to a cultural dynamic (as Angelo says to the anonymous therapist on the Gay Helpline, there is nothing worse for an Italian than being gay).
For me, being Jewish is an important part of who I am, mainly because it was important to my parents. Even when I at times am not being the model of a nice Jewish girl, I never forget where I come from. Which was not always functional (and still isn’t), and I am quick to poke fun at many of the stereotypical aspects of my parents and peers.
But when the cards are put on the table in a relationship, my Judaism is not negotiable. When a man cannot deal with my desire to join me as I maintain my sometimes tenuous connection to my heritage, I am gone. But to my parents, if a man is not Jewish, he is not acceptable, period -- even if he buys into my lifestyle hook, line, and kosher.
My parents and I are living examples of the changing attitude towards the role of ethnicity in relationships, from one generation to the next. To risk sounding too much like Reb Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof, on the one hand we have the desire to hold on to a part of ourselves, while on the other hand, we seek to separate from our families and forge our own identity. Choosing the “right” partner takes precedence over choosing someone with the same background as ourselves.
Movies like My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Mambo Italiano are becoming the storylines for the lives of more and more people. Who knows? Maybe one day I will be starring in one of my own.
Paula E. Kirman is a writer, editor, and website designer in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Her website is: www.mynameispaula.com
Friday, June 26, 2009
Why Am I Still Single?
Back in 2004-ish I wrote a series of articles for a start-up website called RelationshipWellBeing.com. The site was intended to bring together a number of relationship "experts" to discuss aspects of, well, relationships. Amidst the psychologists and therapists there was I, talking about being single, dating, and breaking up from a young woman's point of view. My work got a pretty positive reaction even if the website did not reach the heights its team aspired towards. The site, after years of inactivity, has since gone offline and as a result so have my articles. In an effort to keep them online I am going to be reposting them here. After all, this did start off as a blog about singles' issues. Just bear in mind that these articles are a few years old and as such may not reflect some current situations in society, the online world, and my life.
Why Am I Still Single?
It is the number one question that singles get asked, especially if you are over the age of 30: why are you still single? It has many variations, sometimes phrased as a comment, rather than a question – “I can’t believe a nice girl/guy like you is still single,” followed by the more direct and probing: “When do you think you’ll get married?”
As mature singles, we ask the exact same question –but not to each other. Rather, we ask ourselves in times of loneliness or frustration: “Why am I still single?”
Most of us have a timeline in which we expect or want to be married with a family. Thirty tends to be that magic number. For some, it may be 25, but 30 is definitely a marker on the far end of the map.
To be single, over 30, and a woman is not as big of a stigma as it was in years past. But it can still weigh on one’s mind. When I am asked that inevitable question, a few things pop into my mind.
I’ve always been one of these people with an uncanny sense of telling when there is going to be a problem, before it becomes a problem. If I ever went for another career, my friends have told me that I should go into disaster planning. Perhaps always being able to second-guess situations might be good for survival in a war or tornado, but it’s not necessarily good for survival in relationships. After all, no one is perfect. All of my friends who are “happily” married have their share of problems too. It’s just that they have learned to deal with them. Negotiation, and, frankly, love covers a multitude of quirks.
Yet my foresight into the characters of other people has earned me the brand of being mature beyond my years (I was told that in my early 20’s), and full of wisdom and discernment (buzzwords from my religious friends). Upon reflection, I have been either extremely smart, or extremely stupid. I know for sure that I have averted at least a couple of marital disasters. But there have also been situations where I think I may have just given up too easily.
Had I gone down any of the paths formerly before me, wearing a white dress, by now I would possibly be divorced, like a single parent – both of which also carry with them little of the stigma of our parents’ generation. My biological clock would not be ticking as loudly, because I would already have children. But in most ways, I would simply have traded one set of problems for another.
I don’t have a bitter ex trying to make my life miserable. I am not myself a bitter ex trying to pull the pieces of my life back together. Rarely have I ever seen a divorce where everyone involved parted ways peacefully. I have become a sounding board for my friends, a witness to the carnage of lives tearing apart.
However, the desire to avoid the War of the Roses just doesn’t seem to be an acceptable response to the barrage of socially awkward questions. Here are some witty repartees I have collected, courtesy of other mature, single adults:
Question: Why are you still single?
Answer: I don’t know – maybe you should ask my ex’s.
Question: Would you like me to fix you up with someone?
Answer: Why do I need to be fixed up? Am I broken?
Question: Don’t you feel your biological clock ticking?
Answer: I am not sure about that, but I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my rear end.
One of my favorites came in the form of a postcard that I saw at a gift shop. An older woman is asking a younger women why she isn’t married. “I forgot,” was her flip answer.
It really isn’t a joke. We are all so busy these days with advanced education, careers, social causes, hobbies and activities, and a variety of other distractions to occupy our time, that the void left by not having a significant other, really isn’t all that significant after all.
Yet there is always a part of a single person that worries he or she will never find lasting love. Being continually faced with questions that are awkward at best, and insensitive at worst, does not help single people feel comfortable with who they are. The focus should be on not how to answer these questions, but to discourage them being asked in the first place.
Paula E. Kirman is a freelance writer and website designer in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Her website is: www.mynameispaula.com
Why Am I Still Single?
It is the number one question that singles get asked, especially if you are over the age of 30: why are you still single? It has many variations, sometimes phrased as a comment, rather than a question – “I can’t believe a nice girl/guy like you is still single,” followed by the more direct and probing: “When do you think you’ll get married?”
As mature singles, we ask the exact same question –but not to each other. Rather, we ask ourselves in times of loneliness or frustration: “Why am I still single?”
Most of us have a timeline in which we expect or want to be married with a family. Thirty tends to be that magic number. For some, it may be 25, but 30 is definitely a marker on the far end of the map.
To be single, over 30, and a woman is not as big of a stigma as it was in years past. But it can still weigh on one’s mind. When I am asked that inevitable question, a few things pop into my mind.
I’ve always been one of these people with an uncanny sense of telling when there is going to be a problem, before it becomes a problem. If I ever went for another career, my friends have told me that I should go into disaster planning. Perhaps always being able to second-guess situations might be good for survival in a war or tornado, but it’s not necessarily good for survival in relationships. After all, no one is perfect. All of my friends who are “happily” married have their share of problems too. It’s just that they have learned to deal with them. Negotiation, and, frankly, love covers a multitude of quirks.
Yet my foresight into the characters of other people has earned me the brand of being mature beyond my years (I was told that in my early 20’s), and full of wisdom and discernment (buzzwords from my religious friends). Upon reflection, I have been either extremely smart, or extremely stupid. I know for sure that I have averted at least a couple of marital disasters. But there have also been situations where I think I may have just given up too easily.
Had I gone down any of the paths formerly before me, wearing a white dress, by now I would possibly be divorced, like a single parent – both of which also carry with them little of the stigma of our parents’ generation. My biological clock would not be ticking as loudly, because I would already have children. But in most ways, I would simply have traded one set of problems for another.
I don’t have a bitter ex trying to make my life miserable. I am not myself a bitter ex trying to pull the pieces of my life back together. Rarely have I ever seen a divorce where everyone involved parted ways peacefully. I have become a sounding board for my friends, a witness to the carnage of lives tearing apart.
However, the desire to avoid the War of the Roses just doesn’t seem to be an acceptable response to the barrage of socially awkward questions. Here are some witty repartees I have collected, courtesy of other mature, single adults:
Question: Why are you still single?
Answer: I don’t know – maybe you should ask my ex’s.
Question: Would you like me to fix you up with someone?
Answer: Why do I need to be fixed up? Am I broken?
Question: Don’t you feel your biological clock ticking?
Answer: I am not sure about that, but I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my rear end.
One of my favorites came in the form of a postcard that I saw at a gift shop. An older woman is asking a younger women why she isn’t married. “I forgot,” was her flip answer.
It really isn’t a joke. We are all so busy these days with advanced education, careers, social causes, hobbies and activities, and a variety of other distractions to occupy our time, that the void left by not having a significant other, really isn’t all that significant after all.
Yet there is always a part of a single person that worries he or she will never find lasting love. Being continually faced with questions that are awkward at best, and insensitive at worst, does not help single people feel comfortable with who they are. The focus should be on not how to answer these questions, but to discourage them being asked in the first place.
Paula E. Kirman is a freelance writer and website designer in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Her website is: www.mynameispaula.com
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Weekend and Beyond: Bicycles, Festivals, Dedications
Festival season is officially here. The Works is considered the first big festival of summer, and it began last weekend. I dropped by to check out some of the art in Churchill Square and surrounding areas, as well as pay a visit to the art gallery to check out that 17 foot long baby. It was surreal - and extremely creepy. I also was amazed by the impressionist paintings of local artist Mary Joyce. Mary is one of our peace activists and I was thrilled to see her work in such a mainstream context as the AGA.
However, before I hit The Works, I rode downtown and cruised past some friends who were dropping their daughter off at the AGA for art lessons. We did breakfast at Timmy's and then I headed to the Bikeology festival for my volunteer position as official photographer/videographer. Bikeology is an annual celebration of the bicycle and the people who ride them. Here are the photos and this is a short video of some of the afternoon's highlights, like bike-powered smoothies, stunt riders, and live music.
After Bikeology it was a quick stop over to City Market, just a few blocks away, for a Fat Frank. Then to the Art Gallery and The Works. My breakfast friends Nick and Kylee and their kids were with me off and on for most of the day, as they were going around to the same events.
On Sunday, I attended a dedication ceremony for a Genocide Memorial Garden at the home of Rev. Audrey Brooks. Rev. Brooks is a Unitarian minister, Raging Granny, and good friend. She built a dry riverbed garden in front of her home and made it into a memorial garden for all victims of genocide. The dedication ceremony involved prayers, sacred readings, music, and people coming forward to place stones in the garden. On the stones we wrote the names of people, places, or events relating to genocide. After placing the stones, we spoke briefly about the significance of what we wrote. I placed a stone for the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, never to forget - which means not just remembering the victims, but to remember to espouse values of justice and compassion and peace towards all people, everywhere. Here are some photos and this is a 15 minute video.
I've been trying to enjoy the outdoors as much as possible, despite the ups and downs of the temperatures and the very high winds that have been kicking up. On Monday I went for a walk through Hawrelak Park with my friend Tim. We saw all Canada Geese of all ages, from tiny chicks to bigger goslings to full-sized mommies and daddies. We also saw goldeneyes, mallards, and other waterfowl. Nature and wildlife in the middle of a busy city. Take a look at the sheer cuteness of some of these pictures.
I have also been taking regular hikes down in the Buena Vista offleash area with Randy and Skooter. Skooter loves putting her head in the water, and then shaking it off -- usually on us. She will try to tear apart any large logs or tree trunks she finds. Being down by the river is just so serene. Here is a photo set from yesterday's walk.
However, before I hit The Works, I rode downtown and cruised past some friends who were dropping their daughter off at the AGA for art lessons. We did breakfast at Timmy's and then I headed to the Bikeology festival for my volunteer position as official photographer/videographer. Bikeology is an annual celebration of the bicycle and the people who ride them. Here are the photos and this is a short video of some of the afternoon's highlights, like bike-powered smoothies, stunt riders, and live music.
After Bikeology it was a quick stop over to City Market, just a few blocks away, for a Fat Frank. Then to the Art Gallery and The Works. My breakfast friends Nick and Kylee and their kids were with me off and on for most of the day, as they were going around to the same events.
On Sunday, I attended a dedication ceremony for a Genocide Memorial Garden at the home of Rev. Audrey Brooks. Rev. Brooks is a Unitarian minister, Raging Granny, and good friend. She built a dry riverbed garden in front of her home and made it into a memorial garden for all victims of genocide. The dedication ceremony involved prayers, sacred readings, music, and people coming forward to place stones in the garden. On the stones we wrote the names of people, places, or events relating to genocide. After placing the stones, we spoke briefly about the significance of what we wrote. I placed a stone for the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, never to forget - which means not just remembering the victims, but to remember to espouse values of justice and compassion and peace towards all people, everywhere. Here are some photos and this is a 15 minute video.
I've been trying to enjoy the outdoors as much as possible, despite the ups and downs of the temperatures and the very high winds that have been kicking up. On Monday I went for a walk through Hawrelak Park with my friend Tim. We saw all Canada Geese of all ages, from tiny chicks to bigger goslings to full-sized mommies and daddies. We also saw goldeneyes, mallards, and other waterfowl. Nature and wildlife in the middle of a busy city. Take a look at the sheer cuteness of some of these pictures.
I have also been taking regular hikes down in the Buena Vista offleash area with Randy and Skooter. Skooter loves putting her head in the water, and then shaking it off -- usually on us. She will try to tear apart any large logs or tree trunks she finds. Being down by the river is just so serene. Here is a photo set from yesterday's walk.
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