SACRAMENTO, CA

I typically make a lot of New Year’s Resolutions, but this year I only made one: Stay single for the entire year of 2009. I know, I know, this doesn’t sound like an extremely difficult resolution, but with my dating record, I actually have to set a goal for this. See, I haven’t been single for more than a few days since I was 16 years old. That’s 12 years of being trapped in relationships!

Oh, I know some of you out there are rolling your eyes and sarcastically saying, “Oh, boo hoo for you.” But if you’ve never been single for your entire adult life, you’d understand how liberating it is to be on your own. Now that I’ve gotten over the initial shock of it, I wake up every morning and feel like doing the happy dance because I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I can apply for a job halfway around the world. I can stay out all night partying with the guys from kickball. I can take a spur of the moment road trip with friends - no questions asked, no guilty conscience, no forced invites, nothing but me and whether I feel up for it.

Now, to make this whole New Year’s Resolution thing work, I decided to make a list of rules that will hopefully help me from ending up right back in the relationship world. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far: (more…)

PORTLAND, ME-

My first kiss tasted like red wine and cigarettes. These are not completely unexpected flavors in someone’s mouth.   

He was 28, I was 16. He was French, a saxophone player with long hair and an earring. We spent almost every evening together that summer, holding hands, talking, eating dinner, drinking wine. He loved to use the salt and pepper shakers on the table to demonstrate situations. As in:  “this is you” – holding up the salt shaker – and “this is me” – holding up the pepper shaker. Then the shakers were off, moving around the table, doing whatever it was he was talking about.

I am not sure what made him want to kiss me that night. We were sitting on some stairs leading to the waters of the Danube. I swear there were shooting stars in the sky, but I could have been imagining things. I didn’t know how to kiss. I was OK with our lips touching, but once his tongue entered my mouth, I wasn’t sure what to do with it.  I pulled away a bit, mostly to giggle, but he interpreted it as reluctance.

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BROOKLYN, NY –

Dating’s a bitch.

And this is the time of year when it’s easier to plop in front of the TV with a bottle of Veuve and watch a House marathon rather than suffer through, as the only single person* in the room, the forced jollity of holiday events.  You start to miss the days when your mother pestered you about your dating life.  Anymore, she just slaps on her Colorform smile, tells hyper-enthusiastic tales of others – who got married even older than you – and passes the twice-baked potatoes with a heavy sigh; resigned to the fact that the children born to your siblings are going to be the only grands she’s going to get.

(*For the record, no, my widowed grandmother does NOT count, thank you very much and besides, even she has a boyfriend, so suck it!)

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LOS ANGELES-

Singing in public. You get a lot of this in Los Angeles. A lot of performers in this town. People in dire need of attention. There’s only so much of it to go around.

I was walking the dog last night on Sunset Boulevard, and we were standing at a corner waiting for the light to change. There was a guy next to me with a guitar slung over his shoulder. It was just the two of us standing there. Cars were going by. A city bus. The smells of exhaust and rain and garbage.

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