I know I’ve mentioned a time or two before that I am violently allergic to dating. It just seems profoundly unappealing.

A couple of months ago, I talked about my relationship status, and came to the conclusion it could best be defined as “friend”. Or, if you prefer, “independent”.

I’m watching a few of my real life and online friends go through the process of dating again, and frankly it looks unpleasant from the outside. Dating sites, uncomfortable dates, miscommunication, friends with benefits, bad sex, good sex but no call, and just generally playing the game.

New (but sure to be longtime) friend and kindred spirit Frances writes about this in her post hilariously titled Men Want Sex. And My Refusal to Become a Moose. She says, ” A few of us hold out, thinking that reason and humor and genuine affection is really what the “good” ones want.” Damn straight, I do! Oh, wait, she was talking about men. Seriously, that’s *me*, too. I don’t play hard to get, I have no clue about the game and I opt out!

Not to mention that as I see it, of the couple of hundred adults I know, it breaks down like this:

• 70% or so are married or in long term relationships

• 10% are gay or lesbian, and see above
• 10% are hot, brilliant, funny, interesting women who are either looking or not looking, variously
• 9% are attractive, brilliant, funny, interesting men who are completely uninterested and even actively avoidant of women, relationships and commitment (although some aren’t averse to sex if they can get it)
• 1% is open to a relationship but the night nurse at the psych ward won’t let him use the phone to call Courtney Love anymore

Seriously – many women remain eternally hopeful, but I only know one or two men who have not pretty much given up and become hermits. These are not good odds.

Let’s define the terms – maybe in a continuum?

Dating: two people formally spend time together with the goal of a potential romantic relationship.

Relationship: the dictionary defines this as a “romantic or passionate attachment” – although, technically, everyone has business, fraternal or platonic relationships with nearly everyone in their lives.

Commitment: A committed relationship is an interpersonal relationship based upon a mutually agreed upon commitment to one another involving exclusivity, honesty, or some other agreed upon behavior (engagement, living together, etc.)

As I’ve said, I find the concept of dating bizarre from my mid-life perspective. I don’t have the patience for it, the capacity to play the games, or any tolerance for idiocy. I’d much rather spend a wonderful, comfortable evening with good friends of either gender, sharing good food, drinks, laughs and camaraderie and go home alone, than spend an awkward, painful evening with a near-stranger that might or might not end in uncomfortable sex and a nearly negligible chance of a call back in the future.

In the process, I build a life that I love with people who are my family of choice. If by chance I happen to stumble over a friend that surprises me, who makes me think about romance and a different kind of relationship, that’s an added bonus. I’m not looking for it; I’m not averse to it. (I’m probably way too busy for it!) Either way my life is enriched by great friends and time spent being truly myself.

A post from a friend made me think. And think some more.

What’s with this relationship status stuff? And “looking for” stuff? Why do we have to be so neatly pigeonhole-able?

So, I lost my husband one year, three months and six days ago. Does that make a widow? Single? Mostly married, still, in my head?

I actually dislike the terms “single”. And “widowed”. They seem to imply a lack, a loss. (Although in my case, that is certainly true.) I prefer “on my own”, “independent”, or how about, “none of your business”.

We all need companionship, friends and loved ones to float down this great river of life with. Some are near and dear, some are casual, and some are here for a time and soon gone. There’s a time for everything, and to everything there is a season – even love we thought would last a lifetime.

I have amazing friends of both genders, here, in Anchorage, and across the country. They’ve lifted me up and kept me going, and have always been available to cheer with me and cry with me, and I have the privilege of doing the same for them.

So really, now that I think about it, when someone asks me what my relationship status is – or what I’m looking for – I think the very best answer I can give is “friend”.

Last week, after several Lemon Drop martinis and giant beers, we talked Janiece’s Smart Man into giving us a pedicure. He liked the numbers: four hot chicks and two smart men, one of whom would simply be an amused spectator, so agreed to try.

He had some conditions, though. First, he had us buy more beer. Second, he got to pick his methods. And third, he wanted us wearing t-shirts. Just in case wet t-shirts accidentally became involved.

We settled in back at the Big Yellow House, and he selected his tools for the job:

• Pressure washer

• Belt sander
• File and rasp
• Dremel cutting blade
• Masking tape and compressor sprayer
• Turtle wax and dremel buffer
• Vaseline intensive care
• Styptic powder

OK, a little unconventional, but we could live with that.

First, he put down a couple of plastic sheet drop cloths in the family room while he had us select our nail polish color. I say color, because he only wanted to load the sprayer once. Cleaning the nozzle can be a pain, so we all had to go with the same color.

The pressure washer didn’t work out so well. It was hard to aim, a little painful, and it broke one of Janiece’s side table lamps. Note to self: not intended for indoor use. Boogie went downstairs to hide at this point, but the rest of us simply had another beer.

The Smart Man could have been a bit more gentle with the belt sander and rasp, but we did have styptic powder on hand. And I guess the drop cloths were a good idea, after all.

After another round of beer, we decided that we’d give each other footrubs, round robin style, and let the Smart Man watch. He liked that. I think. He was kind of buzy futzing with the paint sprayer.

Unfortunately, the sprayer lacked fine control for polish application. The Smart Man’s stereo receiver and home theatre system will never be the same, it’s now covered with a fine coat of grape-colored purple lacquer. Still, he did a nice job of masking our toes (where the tape gripped and we weren’t bleeding) and the paint job looked fabulous.

One final drink, and we tackled the cleanup job. I think we’ll need to replace the paint sprayer, and I hope Janiece can get the spots of blood off her ceiling. (Anne should be just fine, we applied direct pressure.)

Next time, I think we’ll go to the nail salon. We like the massage chairs.

Note: None of this actually happened. At least I think it didn’t. But I do have a fresh pedicure.

This last week I was in Denver on business. The wide open skies and fabulous sunshine were awesome, as were my excellent hosts, Hot Chick Janiece^TM, her Smart Man, and their giant, sweet schnauzer Boogie. They took excellent care of me – thank you for everything!

Boogie, Janiece and the perennially cheerful (and anonymous) Smart Man.

I took some time off for fun on Thursday and Friday, and much fun was had by everyone. The Incomparable Anne^TM and the Organized Stacey^TM joined us for massages, shopping and pedicures, and Stacey’s husband JR jumped on board for dinner at local Asian restaurant Junz.

Stacey and Janiece. This was taken at dinner, after a Lemon Drop or two.

Anne, Jeri & JR (Stacey’s husband). Terry and JR were highly entertained by our company.

Jeri, Anne and Janiece at PF Changs, where we ate lunch in honor of our friend John.

I believe many things, fervently, and it’s been hard to narrow it down to a single focus for this essay. Still, something I received via email a few days ago resonated strongly with me.

To give beyond reason, to care beyond hope, to love without limit; to reach, stretch, and dream, in spite of your fears. These are the hallmarks of divinity. ~ Notes from the Universe

I consider myself to be richly blessed, in both a spiritual and material sense. I have amazing family and friends, who shine more love into my life than I could ever imagine. I am financially comfortable, with a lovely home, reliable cars, health care, and a challenging, interesting, relatively secure career. I am healthy and happy, with a strong body and immune system and spiritual and emotional resilience.

In some ways, my life can be defined by the great losses, the hard things I have faced. And I am realistic; my ‘hard things’ are nothing compared to those of those who truly overcome in this world — those who have survived abuse and still shine, those who have conquered cancer, those who have come through disaster with only the shirt on their back and rebuilt.

Still, I have flailed in a painful, horrible marriage years past all wisdom, until calling it quits. I have parented a mentally ill child, with prayers and tears and 3am self-flagellation. And I’ve lost a beloved husband, the man I thought I’d spend the next forty years growing old beside.

The heartbreak that accompanied each fresh, raw challenge has helped define who I am and helped me discover, serendipitously, how very much I love the people I share this life with.

More importantly, those events have reinforced my closely held belief that, in our short span on this earth, our mission is to love fully and give freely.

I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, and you welcomed me. Matthew 25:35

To those whom much is given, much is expected. If I see a need I can meet, then God has put it in front of me for a reason; it is my choice and my purpose to give, anonymously, quietly and generously. If I encounter someone who needs shelter, food, help, then if I can in any way, I am privileged to be able to provide hospitality, comfort and support.

Yet even if I am being poured out like an offering as part of the sacrifice and service I offer for your faith, I rejoice, and I share my joy with all of you. Phillipians 2:17

And on the spiritual plane, the same principle applies. If a friend, a colleague or a stranger needs support – a hand, a shoulder – I am happy to help. At every juncture in my life, I’ve been cared for by loving friends and family, whose encouragement and kind words have illuminated my way. If I can pass on a fraction of that light to those who cross my path, it is an honor.

Losing a husband, a life’s partner, reinforced how precious life and love are. Love those you have while you can, wholly and fully, without fear or reservation. Express your love actively, because none of us is promised tomorrow.

When I lost my father unexpectedly, ten years ago, I had the unusual opportunity to talk to him just a couple of hours before he died and tell him I loved him. I cherish that last conversation.

And when I lost my husband this March, I kissed and hugged him goodbye and told him I loved him that morning, as I did every morning. I will forever be grateful for that last kiss, and for that daily expression of love.

“To give beyond reason, to care beyond hope, to love without limit…” I believe we all have a purpose in life. To give and love freely – materially, spiritually, to family, friends and strangers alike – is mine.
___________________

This I Believe is an international project engaging people in writing and sharing essays describing the core values that guide their daily lives.

Hot Chick^TM Janiece suggested participation in it; here is her contribution:
This I Believe 2010 – Janiece

The Incomparable Anne^TM also wrote candidly here:
This I Believe 2010 – Anne