Even a married lady like me gets annoyed by Valentine's Day spam. This spam advertised a combination fitness centre and dating service. Personally, I cannot imagine combining a gym workout with dating. I'm the lady what got the male attendant banned from the University of Toronto Athletic Centre weight room during Women-Only Hour. (The whole point of Women-Only Hour was to prevent men from staring at women while we worked out, but the worst offender was actually that attendant.) Incidentally, I had a big old argument with a prof about Women's Only Hour. He thought it was unfair to men, but meanwhile my Dad was horrified a Jesuit was working out in a public gym in the first place. It made him (Dad) feel nostalgic for the 1950s. Meanwhile, my shock when the tremendously handsome, muscular man at the chest press put on his glasses and was thereby revealed to be my prof---!
Let's just say that I am still a big fan of Women Only Hours at gyms.
Anyway, the annoying ad reminded me that it is time I reasserted my solidarity with Singles readers by agreeing that Valentine's Day is annoying when you're Single and very often when you are not Single but male. And hordes of girlfriends and wives are disappointed on Valentine's Day because they think of it as a Big Deal and think their boyfriends and husbands should too.
Well, I love my husband, but I usually go home to Canada in mid-February, so no V-Day for us. We must have had some V-Days together, though, as I recall that his traditional V-Day present is a handful of snowdrops from the woods. In my opinion, this is the cheapest and yet most romantic V-Day gift in the world.
The idea of fitness + dating epitomizes for me the reduction of love to Luv, love being a real, time-built relationship between a man or woman and his or her family, his or her country or people, his or her best friends, his or her patron saints, his or her God. Luv is the heady rush of infatuation that either calms down into marriage or burns out, leaving ashes. I am grateful for the stage of marital love called Luv, for it transformed my life and set B.A. and me in the right direction. However, I hate how it utterly drowns out the rest of romantic love and the other loves. The airwaves and television are obsessed with sex and treat family life as a carnival sideshow or opportunity for adverts.
One of the wonderful things about marriage is that it transforms the person you are crazy about into a member of your family--as far as you are concerned, the most important member of your family. This makes him or her just as loveable and nearly as annoying as other members of your family. I am sure that when B.A. saw me sitting demurely on a sofa in the New Town, politely dabbing at my nose with a tissue, he did not foresee me this morning, running around yelling "Where the H*** are my KEYS?" Any member of my current family could have warned him, but fortunately they were not there.
I had an email today--I haven't answered it yet--and it is from someone who is dreading going on a first date. She doesn't like going on dates, and I am not surprised. Dates are like going to the dentist. You don't enjoy going, but you have a vague sense that something might be wrong if you don't. The difference is that you really should go to the dentist. Your teeth won't fall out if you refuse to go on dates.
My advice will be to think of dates not as a way of meeting future boyfriends but a way of meeting future male friends. I'm not much of a networker on my own behalf (too shy), but I enjoy introducing friends and acquaintances to other friends and acquaintances I think they should know. It's good to have new people over for supper, and to bring this or that person--especially younger ones--into the old gang.
I think friendship is a place where Luv is just that more likely to mature into Love--either marital love or the love of friends. The relationship does not begin with the artificiality of a cafe, or the frank carnality of a bar or (ye saints above!) exercise studio.
O tempores, o mores! How I wish we could return to the days of variety in love--with popular songs about Mother and Home and Land of Hope and Glory and the Old School and the Regiment. Sure, some of it was sentimental and false, but it gave a truer and more generous picture of human emotion than the sludge on the radio of today. I'd like to add to the list Grandma, Grandpa, Teacher, Mentor, Dear Old Auntie and Kind Mr Contini at the Ice Cream Shop.
It was my birthday recently, and look away now if you don't want to read sappy married people stuff. Sappy married people stuff ahead. Okay, so B.A. and I have two standard squabbles. They are A) the state of the kitchen and B) the hours I spend studying Polish. The kitchen alone is worth hours of traditional marital discord. The Polish adds an exciting international note, plus drama when I weep because compared to my parents and brothers and sisters I am really bad at languages. So it was particularly kindly of B.A. to wash all the dishes from my birthday lunch, even though he cooked the birthday lunch, and really very generous when I opened my new it-bag and found a volume of Polish poetry.
Wah. If I should perish early, don't kill each other in your battle to win B.A. for yourselves.
***
OPERATION VALENTINUS: Okay, you know the drill. If you are Single, pick three to five Single friends to whom to send valentines and chocolate. This way, even if you get nothing, you will have given three to five deserving people a lift. I will soon put out a sign-up feature. Meanwhile, on the theme of love (as opposed to luv), please mention below the most thoughtful gift you have ever received. It can be from a parent, teacher, priest, friend, sibling, cousin, uncle, aunt, grandparent, fiancé, spouse. Anyone you love and who loves you in a REAL, lasting way.
Showing posts with label Operation Valentinus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Operation Valentinus. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
Friday, 8 February 2013
Love of Place
One clever reader said that she doesn't like trash-men, anti-Valentine's Day Valentine's Day parties, and I think she's onto something there. It is foolish to spit on something good, like romantic love, when deep in your heart you know it is good. It is a much better idea to celebrate it--although how to do that when you don't have a love interest, boyfriend or husband can be a puzzle.
One solution is to make Valentine's Day about love, not just romantic love, which is what you have done when you have sent cards, chocolate or party plans to your Single girlfriends.
But you don't have to rule out romance entirely. For example, many people, including many artists, feel passionate love for their own countries, their cultures, even their fellow countrymen. In the 21st century, with our worries about (or, sadly, embrace of) racism, this can make some of us--especially in shame-bedeviled English-speaking countries--rather nervous.
But thank heavens nineteenth-century poets and twentieth-century songwriters did not share our timidity about expressing love for our countries, cultures and people! If they had, how impoverished we would be, and some of us might not even have a country. If your nation has been free from foreign rule for over 200 years, you might take national identity for granted: not so the Poles, Slovaks, Czechs, Lithuanians, Latvians...
Personally I do not see why loving your own country and your own folk better than other countries and other folk makes you more likely to go to war or be a hateful person than an old hippy like Gilles Vigneult, who wrote, "Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver." ("My country is not a country; it's winter.")
As a matter of fact I grew up in Toronto--which Hilary White often says is not really Canada--at a time when the chattering classes (mostly from Toronto) were taking apart the notion of what it was to be a Canadian in our post-1967, multi-racial, multi-ethnic country. As a child I longed to be Swiss, for the Swiss seemed to have a strong national identity and knew who they were, and didn't think being Swiss was reduced to just having a Swiss passport. I also envied French-Canadians, especially in Quebec, for their unique culture was not at all masked or swept away or (then) even threatened by immigration.
Migration does something odd in that it separates a culture or one's sense of oneself as belonging to a nation from a geographical place. One of the odder sights in my parents' neighbourhood is a Pakistani man who shovels snow in traditional Pakistani clothing. Whereas those clothes are probably absolutely perfect for the climate of Pakistan, they make absolutely no sense whatsoever in the northern parts of Toronto in February. But perhaps he is afraid Western clothing will make him Western, which he does not want to be, although he certainly now lives in the West.
I think one should live where one loves, and if one can't live in the beloved place for some reason, then to learn to love where one lives. If this proves impossible, then one should move. On the plane yesterday, B.A. pointed to Toronto out the window, and as I looked at the dear old ugly town, my heart sank and I felt very homesick for Edinburgh. I find it hard to love a city which constantly cannibalizes itself, and which constantly tears down the places I have lived and loved and even studied. In Edinburgh, the homes of my Edinburgh great-grandparents are still standing. In Toronto, my theological college has been ripped down. Edinburgh preserves and offers its past; Toronto is about money and food. Torontonians don't preserve; we consume.
But Toronto does have snow and it does have trees, and so I can find my love for Canada as Canadians traditionally have, in the weather and the wilderness.
Mon pays ce n'est pay un pays, c'est l'hiver.
And there is also the romance of other places--particularly cities. Paris, for example, is considered wonderfully romantic by womankind, and this has nothing to do with Frenchmen--or potential French boyfriends anyway. (Personally, the concepts of French pastry chef, French baker, French chef and French designer have always thrilled me more than the idea of French boyfriend although I imagine many women would protest.) Just BEING in Paris--always within five minutes of a patisserie--is enough.
Rome is also very romantic and, again, this has nothing to do with boys, although at my age it is particularly flattering to have 20 year olds sigh "Bellissima" at me, the charming wee liars. Florence is very romantic. Venice is romantic. The Rhine Valley is very romantic, if you are lucky enough not to know 20th century battlefield details. Edinburgh is romantic. The Highlands are stunning.
Frankfurt is probably not romantic, but I am very fond of it anyway. I am also very fond of Warsaw.
Well, that is certainly enough from me. But if I am in a mood to celebrate romance on Valentine's Day, which is the day after my husband goes back to Scotland, I think I will read travel books or go for a walk in the snow.
What places do you love best, and which places do you think romantic?
One solution is to make Valentine's Day about love, not just romantic love, which is what you have done when you have sent cards, chocolate or party plans to your Single girlfriends.
But you don't have to rule out romance entirely. For example, many people, including many artists, feel passionate love for their own countries, their cultures, even their fellow countrymen. In the 21st century, with our worries about (or, sadly, embrace of) racism, this can make some of us--especially in shame-bedeviled English-speaking countries--rather nervous.
But thank heavens nineteenth-century poets and twentieth-century songwriters did not share our timidity about expressing love for our countries, cultures and people! If they had, how impoverished we would be, and some of us might not even have a country. If your nation has been free from foreign rule for over 200 years, you might take national identity for granted: not so the Poles, Slovaks, Czechs, Lithuanians, Latvians...
Personally I do not see why loving your own country and your own folk better than other countries and other folk makes you more likely to go to war or be a hateful person than an old hippy like Gilles Vigneult, who wrote, "Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver." ("My country is not a country; it's winter.")
As a matter of fact I grew up in Toronto--which Hilary White often says is not really Canada--at a time when the chattering classes (mostly from Toronto) were taking apart the notion of what it was to be a Canadian in our post-1967, multi-racial, multi-ethnic country. As a child I longed to be Swiss, for the Swiss seemed to have a strong national identity and knew who they were, and didn't think being Swiss was reduced to just having a Swiss passport. I also envied French-Canadians, especially in Quebec, for their unique culture was not at all masked or swept away or (then) even threatened by immigration.
Migration does something odd in that it separates a culture or one's sense of oneself as belonging to a nation from a geographical place. One of the odder sights in my parents' neighbourhood is a Pakistani man who shovels snow in traditional Pakistani clothing. Whereas those clothes are probably absolutely perfect for the climate of Pakistan, they make absolutely no sense whatsoever in the northern parts of Toronto in February. But perhaps he is afraid Western clothing will make him Western, which he does not want to be, although he certainly now lives in the West.
I think one should live where one loves, and if one can't live in the beloved place for some reason, then to learn to love where one lives. If this proves impossible, then one should move. On the plane yesterday, B.A. pointed to Toronto out the window, and as I looked at the dear old ugly town, my heart sank and I felt very homesick for Edinburgh. I find it hard to love a city which constantly cannibalizes itself, and which constantly tears down the places I have lived and loved and even studied. In Edinburgh, the homes of my Edinburgh great-grandparents are still standing. In Toronto, my theological college has been ripped down. Edinburgh preserves and offers its past; Toronto is about money and food. Torontonians don't preserve; we consume.
But Toronto does have snow and it does have trees, and so I can find my love for Canada as Canadians traditionally have, in the weather and the wilderness.
Mon pays ce n'est pay un pays, c'est l'hiver.
And there is also the romance of other places--particularly cities. Paris, for example, is considered wonderfully romantic by womankind, and this has nothing to do with Frenchmen--or potential French boyfriends anyway. (Personally, the concepts of French pastry chef, French baker, French chef and French designer have always thrilled me more than the idea of French boyfriend although I imagine many women would protest.) Just BEING in Paris--always within five minutes of a patisserie--is enough.
Rome is also very romantic and, again, this has nothing to do with boys, although at my age it is particularly flattering to have 20 year olds sigh "Bellissima" at me, the charming wee liars. Florence is very romantic. Venice is romantic. The Rhine Valley is very romantic, if you are lucky enough not to know 20th century battlefield details. Edinburgh is romantic. The Highlands are stunning.
Frankfurt is probably not romantic, but I am very fond of it anyway. I am also very fond of Warsaw.
Well, that is certainly enough from me. But if I am in a mood to celebrate romance on Valentine's Day, which is the day after my husband goes back to Scotland, I think I will read travel books or go for a walk in the snow.
What places do you love best, and which places do you think romantic?
Monday, 6 February 2012
Operation Valentinus 2012
I'm a bit late this year in announcing Operation Valentinus, but I was reminded by a manipulative email from a Catholic dating website in my inbox. It was called "Pre-Valentine's Day Dread?"
The Valentine's merchandise arrived with force: boxed chocolates, shooting cupids, red roses. It can be dispiriting for those of us who are still searching for that special someone to wine and dine on Feb. 14.
Maybe it's time to become a full, paid member of X.
Ah dear. I see that that particular dating website has become a full-fledged Catholic industry, with smart bloggers and interesting articles and the occasional nihil obstat. It's amazing what can be done when subscribers are coughing up a one-time six month payment of $75. Maybe if I stopped writing about how exploitative I think Catholic dating websites are, I'd get a cut of the action.
But never mind that. It's time to launch Operation Valentinus. And Operation Valentinus is not based on signing up on dating websites to ogle photographs of men and deciding to contact them based on their ability to spell, but on showing your Single friends how much they mean in your life right now.
There are two parts to Operation Valentinus. The first part involves choosing five or so Single friends and sending them cards and chocolate--particularly chocolate--in the post for Valentine's Day. The second part involves arranging a fun party for Singles on the night of Valentine's Day, preferably far away from any restaurant teeming with couples willing to pay £45 per person for that which cost only £20 the night before.
It's really that simple. If you have discovered, year after year, that certain holidays make you feel depressed, then you owe it to your mental health to prepare for them. And just like your priest/spiritual director/mother said, there is something about thoughtful gestures for other people that makes you feel good yourself.
So I recommend that girl Singles send valentines and chocolates to their Single girl friends, and that boy Singles send valentines and chocolates to their elderly female relations. Elderly female relations love to hear from their young male relations whenever, and will never get the Wrong Idea. If boy Singles send valentines and chocolates to girl Singles in whom they are not at all interested in a romantic way, they risk giving the Wrong Idea.
If Married readers want to take part in Operation Valentinus, then they should plan their list of Single beneficiaries very carefully. Market research (e.g. me googling) indicates that Single girls like to get Single stuff (like my book) from Single friends but not as much from Married (or getting-married-next-week) friends. The last thing you want to get, as a Married woman whose own Valentine's Day might be lackluster, is a snippy response from the Single friend to whom you sent a card and gift.
As for the fun night you are going to have on Valentine's Day, I rather leave that up to you. My caveat is that you stay out of bars because predatory men might be taking special advantage of vulnerable women. I envision busy kitchens of Singles cooking for each other or revealing the dishes they have brought from home, or putting Chinese take-out on plates. And I envision cult classics on the DVD player. But mostly I envision friends having fun together and seeing for themselves that being Single doesn't mean being alone and unloved.
The Valentine's merchandise arrived with force: boxed chocolates, shooting cupids, red roses. It can be dispiriting for those of us who are still searching for that special someone to wine and dine on Feb. 14.
Maybe it's time to become a full, paid member of X.
Ah dear. I see that that particular dating website has become a full-fledged Catholic industry, with smart bloggers and interesting articles and the occasional nihil obstat. It's amazing what can be done when subscribers are coughing up a one-time six month payment of $75. Maybe if I stopped writing about how exploitative I think Catholic dating websites are, I'd get a cut of the action.
But never mind that. It's time to launch Operation Valentinus. And Operation Valentinus is not based on signing up on dating websites to ogle photographs of men and deciding to contact them based on their ability to spell, but on showing your Single friends how much they mean in your life right now.
There are two parts to Operation Valentinus. The first part involves choosing five or so Single friends and sending them cards and chocolate--particularly chocolate--in the post for Valentine's Day. The second part involves arranging a fun party for Singles on the night of Valentine's Day, preferably far away from any restaurant teeming with couples willing to pay £45 per person for that which cost only £20 the night before.
It's really that simple. If you have discovered, year after year, that certain holidays make you feel depressed, then you owe it to your mental health to prepare for them. And just like your priest/spiritual director/mother said, there is something about thoughtful gestures for other people that makes you feel good yourself.
So I recommend that girl Singles send valentines and chocolates to their Single girl friends, and that boy Singles send valentines and chocolates to their elderly female relations. Elderly female relations love to hear from their young male relations whenever, and will never get the Wrong Idea. If boy Singles send valentines and chocolates to girl Singles in whom they are not at all interested in a romantic way, they risk giving the Wrong Idea.
If Married readers want to take part in Operation Valentinus, then they should plan their list of Single beneficiaries very carefully. Market research (e.g. me googling) indicates that Single girls like to get Single stuff (like my book) from Single friends but not as much from Married (or getting-married-next-week) friends. The last thing you want to get, as a Married woman whose own Valentine's Day might be lackluster, is a snippy response from the Single friend to whom you sent a card and gift.
As for the fun night you are going to have on Valentine's Day, I rather leave that up to you. My caveat is that you stay out of bars because predatory men might be taking special advantage of vulnerable women. I envision busy kitchens of Singles cooking for each other or revealing the dishes they have brought from home, or putting Chinese take-out on plates. And I envision cult classics on the DVD player. But mostly I envision friends having fun together and seeing for themselves that being Single doesn't mean being alone and unloved.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Auntie Seraphic & The Catherinettes
Thanksgiving Dinner Report post below.****
Hi there, Seraphic!
I teach French to little kids, and today this involved celebrating St. Catherine's Day by making taffy. Not being francophone myself, I had to look up the French Canadian tradition, and I noted that St. Catherine's Day (November 25) seems to have a lot connected to it with regards to single women.
Apparently her intercession has been invoked for the past 8 centuries by single women wanting husbands, with varying degrees of desperation. It also seems that unmarried women over the age of 25 were dubbed "Catherinettes" on St. Catherine's Day. Catherinettes would take the opportunity to send cards and treats to their fellow Catherinettes.
This made me think of your Operation Valentinus, and thought it would be fun to bring it up on your blog. Mind you, I suppose celebrating St. Catherine's Day in this way might be an unnecessary reminder of one's singlehood, and being dubbed a Catherinette might be somewhat scarring...I think it's a fun name, but then again I am still one year away from being a Catherinette myself...
Here is a link to the ever-so-reliable Wikipedia...read the sections on Canada and France: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Catherine's_Day
Anyway, I thought it might be something fun/questionably relevant to bring up on your blog tomorrow (or rather, today, since for you it must already be Nov. 25th!) I will not be offended if you don't bring it up though!
God bless,
A Reader
I did not know any of this, so I am grateful to my reader for sending this email. I strongly support the notion of Single women sending each other cards and treats to affectionately mark their shared Singleness. Sisterhood is powerful--when it really is sisterhood and not some men-are-scum-rah-rah political pose.
I am struck that a Catherinette is (or was) a Single woman who has had her 25th birthday. Some sort of black magic seems to be attributed to one's 25th birthday, which is absolutely bonkers from the point of view of a 40 year old. When I was 25, I was not very smart, but at least I had tremendously beautiful skin, no grey hairs at all and probably hundreds of healthy little eggies hidden away. You would think that, given the improvements in women's health, looks and life expectancy, we'd now go into a panic before our 35th birthday instead of our 25th, but no. Thirty-five is not-such-a-big-deal and twenty-five is woe-is-me.
Why this is, is less of a mystery the more you discover about the history of turning 25. But I think it may also be that adolescents are rather anxious and adult women rather less. You have the impression that your youth will be over when you turn 25, but then you reach 25 and 26 and 27 and realize it isn't.
If you don't have children, your youth can go on and on and on, which can be either good or bad. In my case it is good because I can hang out with twenty-somethings without them treating me like their mothers, but it is bad because in some ways I remain a feckless human being. I am sure I would be a better person if, like my mother, I did laundry every Monday and ironed it all until it was done.
Below this post is the Thanksgiving Report Post, so if you collected points yesterday, report them in the combox for that post. Meanwhile, happy Feast of Saint Catherine of Alexandria!
Monday, 14 February 2011
Happy Valentine's Day to All My Little Singles
Poppets, I am back from Notre Dame, and I have to write an article for one of my papers like, right NOW. But Happy Valentine's Day from me to you, and I will return soon to tell you all about my amazing adventures in Indiana. Notre Dame rocks; it really does.
And although you are all the poppets, I have to send a special Valentine's Day greeting to Holly, who was assigned by the Edith Stein committee to take care of me. Having a P.A. (I quickly decided Holly was my P.A.) is very awesome, especially if she is as thoughtful as Holly. I spent the weekend either exhausted from sleep deprivation or completely wired on coffee, and the fact that I nevertheless had a great time, delivered my speech well and got back to Toronto a-live has a lot to do with Holly. Listen, she even figured out how to get in touch with me when I was in South Bend airport without a phone and my dad had called her to tell her my flight from Chicago was cancelled. Brilliant!
Okay, more soon. You do something nice for yourselves and for another Single girl today, if you are a girl or her brother or dad.
And although you are all the poppets, I have to send a special Valentine's Day greeting to Holly, who was assigned by the Edith Stein committee to take care of me. Having a P.A. (I quickly decided Holly was my P.A.) is very awesome, especially if she is as thoughtful as Holly. I spent the weekend either exhausted from sleep deprivation or completely wired on coffee, and the fact that I nevertheless had a great time, delivered my speech well and got back to Toronto a-live has a lot to do with Holly. Listen, she even figured out how to get in touch with me when I was in South Bend airport without a phone and my dad had called her to tell her my flight from Chicago was cancelled. Brilliant!
Okay, more soon. You do something nice for yourselves and for another Single girl today, if you are a girl or her brother or dad.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
No Red Mantillas
Alert: Contains Sentimental Married Lady Stuff
Early tomorrow morning I will fly to South Bend for the University of Notre Dame's Edith Stein Project conference. I am very excited! For one thing, I know I have readers driving there, and I am delighted and flattered. For another, I know Wendy Shalit and Dawn Eden are also speaking, and I've always wanted to meet both of them in person.
The conference, then spans February 11 and 12th. On the 13th, a Sunday, I will go to Mass and then fly back to Toronto. On February 14th, I will still be in Toronto, and not home with my husband, which means no Valentine's Day for me.
For years I have been poking fun at Valentine's Day, but somehow when Father Z, who obviously is a man, did so yesterday, I felt rather taken aback. It's one thing for women to laugh about Valentine's Day, but it feels rather different when men do--although they are perfectly right to critique the crass sexual messages. The truth is that many, many, many women take Valentine's Day very seriously indeed. And when wondering why I felt so cold to Father Z's joke that men should give their girlfriends or wives mantillas (someone else, I think, suggested they be red*), I put my finger on it.
Women want to feel loved. Men want to feel loved, too, but they don't seem to have the same attachment to calendar dates as women do. On Valentine's Day, many Single women feel very poignantly their need to feel loved, and Married women feel a need to be loved the way they were loved when their husbands were first courting them. Traditionally, women love to be wooed by the men they love, and these days if we aren't wooed, we'll woo in the hope we'll be wooed back. This has rather mixed results.
We can make fun of Valentine's Day excess, sure, but we can't make fun of women's need to feel love, of Single women's loneliness, of Married women's worry that our husbands just don't find us particularly exciting anymore.
Sentimental Lady Stuff begins here:
On my first Valentine's Day with B.A.--we met in person one September, remember--I had travelled back to the UK to see him, and we went to a small French bistro. He gave me a small antique pin featuring a baroque heart set with a pearl. It was made in the 1920s and B.A. joked to the storekeeper, "This belonged to Nancy Mitford, right?"
"I never said that," said the storekeeper, like a shot, until he realized BA was joking.
But I love that story--which illustrates the fact that B.A. knows who my favourite authors are--and I think of my pin as the "Nancy Mitford pin."
On my second Valentine's Day with B.A., we were married and money was tight. I think this is a frequent song of newly married people. There's more money for romantic presents before you're married than after. So I really wasn't expecting anything and trying not to feel bad that I wasn't expecting anything.
But I did get something. B.A. made me a valentine out of red construction paper and went out to the woods and picked the first snowdrops of spring. (Spring comes early on the east coast of Scotland.) He put the snowdrops in a little vase by the bed, and stood the valentine by the vase, and it made the biggest difference in the world.
This will be my third Valentine's Day with B.A., only I will be over here, and he will be over there, and my birthday extravaganza rather emptied the ol' bank account, so...
I don't know what he's going to do. I know I feel feel sad if he does nothing, but what can he do, poor man? I will just have to lump it, and be in solidarity with the women of the world who are also lumping it.
End of Sentimental Lady Stuff.
Single women who suspect V-Day could be a tough day can prepare ahead by sending their own Single women friends cards and chocolate (and maybe my book!), by meeting up with pals for a mini-Valentine's (or anti-Valentine's) party, by arranging a special treat for themselves that night or by volunteering for the evening shift. Single men, if they are feeling lonely, could contemplate how much money they are saving by not taking women to eat at the vastly inflated Valentine's Day prices which, incidentally, are not women's fault.
Married women and, above all, Single girls with boyfriends, should temper their expectations. But boyfriends and husbands, if they do love their girlfriends and wives, should step up to the plate. Women who are uncertain if they are loved read a LOT into little things. A Valentine's Day gift to a girlfriend or a wife does NOT have to be expensive, but it does have to be romantic. A special lunch if dinner is too expensive. One rose instead of twelve carnations. A lacy scarf. A valentine cut out of a sheet of red construction paper with paper lace glued to the back. It really is the thought---the CAREFUL thought--that counts.
A mantilla (especially a red one) is not romantic. I know Father Z was joking, but I cannot imagine a worse gift. Some Catholic girls are happily and voluntarily choosing to pin on a mantilla when they go to Mass, especially the Extraordinary Form of the Mass. But others are weirded out by it, and think uneasily of burqas. Ofred in Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale had to keep her head covered, and her dress--the dress of all the sex/baby-slave handmaids--was red. And the last thing a Catholic woman needs, as she works out how to be a Catholic woman, balancing tradition and modern life, is some man shoving a veil at her, telling her, in effect, to cover up.
It's almost Valentine's Day. Tensions are mounting. Let's all be extra gentle and understanding of each other and ourselves.
*Now I can't find any reference on wdtprs.com to a red mantilla! Did I dream it? I pondered the red mantilla question all evening!
P.S. The comment stream is a hoot. I feel badly for the woman who is knocking herself out to make a special Valentine's Day dinner for her boyfriend. My one consolation is that the comment is so over the top that it must be a spoof.
****
By the way, Father Z has asked bloggers to get their readers to vote on his mantilla poll here. I voted Woman/Yes/But voluntary. Where I got to Mass, some women wear mantillas, others wear scarves, others warm hats, and others nothing on their heads at all. I usually wear a mantilla, but if it is really cold, I leave my wool beret on.
Some women honestly just don't like dressing "like women", and I don't see why they should have to.
Early tomorrow morning I will fly to South Bend for the University of Notre Dame's Edith Stein Project conference. I am very excited! For one thing, I know I have readers driving there, and I am delighted and flattered. For another, I know Wendy Shalit and Dawn Eden are also speaking, and I've always wanted to meet both of them in person.
The conference, then spans February 11 and 12th. On the 13th, a Sunday, I will go to Mass and then fly back to Toronto. On February 14th, I will still be in Toronto, and not home with my husband, which means no Valentine's Day for me.
For years I have been poking fun at Valentine's Day, but somehow when Father Z, who obviously is a man, did so yesterday, I felt rather taken aback. It's one thing for women to laugh about Valentine's Day, but it feels rather different when men do--although they are perfectly right to critique the crass sexual messages. The truth is that many, many, many women take Valentine's Day very seriously indeed. And when wondering why I felt so cold to Father Z's joke that men should give their girlfriends or wives mantillas (someone else, I think, suggested they be red*), I put my finger on it.
Women want to feel loved. Men want to feel loved, too, but they don't seem to have the same attachment to calendar dates as women do. On Valentine's Day, many Single women feel very poignantly their need to feel loved, and Married women feel a need to be loved the way they were loved when their husbands were first courting them. Traditionally, women love to be wooed by the men they love, and these days if we aren't wooed, we'll woo in the hope we'll be wooed back. This has rather mixed results.
We can make fun of Valentine's Day excess, sure, but we can't make fun of women's need to feel love, of Single women's loneliness, of Married women's worry that our husbands just don't find us particularly exciting anymore.
Sentimental Lady Stuff begins here:
On my first Valentine's Day with B.A.--we met in person one September, remember--I had travelled back to the UK to see him, and we went to a small French bistro. He gave me a small antique pin featuring a baroque heart set with a pearl. It was made in the 1920s and B.A. joked to the storekeeper, "This belonged to Nancy Mitford, right?"
"I never said that," said the storekeeper, like a shot, until he realized BA was joking.
But I love that story--which illustrates the fact that B.A. knows who my favourite authors are--and I think of my pin as the "Nancy Mitford pin."
On my second Valentine's Day with B.A., we were married and money was tight. I think this is a frequent song of newly married people. There's more money for romantic presents before you're married than after. So I really wasn't expecting anything and trying not to feel bad that I wasn't expecting anything.
But I did get something. B.A. made me a valentine out of red construction paper and went out to the woods and picked the first snowdrops of spring. (Spring comes early on the east coast of Scotland.) He put the snowdrops in a little vase by the bed, and stood the valentine by the vase, and it made the biggest difference in the world.
This will be my third Valentine's Day with B.A., only I will be over here, and he will be over there, and my birthday extravaganza rather emptied the ol' bank account, so...
I don't know what he's going to do. I know I feel feel sad if he does nothing, but what can he do, poor man? I will just have to lump it, and be in solidarity with the women of the world who are also lumping it.
End of Sentimental Lady Stuff.
Single women who suspect V-Day could be a tough day can prepare ahead by sending their own Single women friends cards and chocolate (and maybe my book!), by meeting up with pals for a mini-Valentine's (or anti-Valentine's) party, by arranging a special treat for themselves that night or by volunteering for the evening shift. Single men, if they are feeling lonely, could contemplate how much money they are saving by not taking women to eat at the vastly inflated Valentine's Day prices which, incidentally, are not women's fault.
Married women and, above all, Single girls with boyfriends, should temper their expectations. But boyfriends and husbands, if they do love their girlfriends and wives, should step up to the plate. Women who are uncertain if they are loved read a LOT into little things. A Valentine's Day gift to a girlfriend or a wife does NOT have to be expensive, but it does have to be romantic. A special lunch if dinner is too expensive. One rose instead of twelve carnations. A lacy scarf. A valentine cut out of a sheet of red construction paper with paper lace glued to the back. It really is the thought---the CAREFUL thought--that counts.
A mantilla (especially a red one) is not romantic. I know Father Z was joking, but I cannot imagine a worse gift. Some Catholic girls are happily and voluntarily choosing to pin on a mantilla when they go to Mass, especially the Extraordinary Form of the Mass. But others are weirded out by it, and think uneasily of burqas. Ofred in Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale had to keep her head covered, and her dress--the dress of all the sex/baby-slave handmaids--was red. And the last thing a Catholic woman needs, as she works out how to be a Catholic woman, balancing tradition and modern life, is some man shoving a veil at her, telling her, in effect, to cover up.
It's almost Valentine's Day. Tensions are mounting. Let's all be extra gentle and understanding of each other and ourselves.
*Now I can't find any reference on wdtprs.com to a red mantilla! Did I dream it? I pondered the red mantilla question all evening!
P.S. The comment stream is a hoot. I feel badly for the woman who is knocking herself out to make a special Valentine's Day dinner for her boyfriend. My one consolation is that the comment is so over the top that it must be a spoof.
****
By the way, Father Z has asked bloggers to get their readers to vote on his mantilla poll here. I voted Woman/Yes/But voluntary. Where I got to Mass, some women wear mantillas, others wear scarves, others warm hats, and others nothing on their heads at all. I usually wear a mantilla, but if it is really cold, I leave my wool beret on.
Some women honestly just don't like dressing "like women", and I don't see why they should have to.
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Operation Valentinus 2011
It is that time of year again. The shops are full of white, red and pink, and you all know what that means. Yes, Valentine's Day looms.
Now, if you are Single, Valentine's Day is the worst day of the year. It doesn't help if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend either, because then you have EXPECTATIONS, expectations that are often dashed and trampled by fate. Long-term girlfriends silently expect engagement rings, and long-term boyfriends silently expect their girlfriends to be thrilled by the charm bracelets they bought them.
Really, the whole thing is ghastly if you're Single.
However, when you are a Single woman without a boyfriend, as I knew first-hand for years and years, Valentine's Day still dominates your consciousness, and you feel lousy at the end. You feel lousy in part because of the faint hope than an "Anonymous Admirer" might send you something. If you have an "Anonymous Admirer" surely Valentine's Day is the day he will declare himself, but--guess what? He so rarely does, and that sucks.
So I have come up with a campaign for Single women, and this is its second official year. I call it Operation Valentinus. It's simple:
1. Draw up a list of three-five Single boyfriendless women you care about.
2. Buy each a valentine and a box of chocolates. The chocolates are more important than the valentine, so don't stint on the chocolates. Sign your own name on the card, of course.
3. Post the valentines and the chocolates (preferably together) to your Single friends. Write "Do Not Open Until Valentine's Day" on the package.
4. Organize a Girls Night In for February 14th. (The "In" part is important so that you aren't hit on by predatory men looking for lonely women that night.) Figure out who's bringing the supper, the cake, the candy, the DVD, the champagne, you name it.
Now, I don't want to punish girls with boyfriends, here, so if you want to, you can put girls with boyfriends on your Single Woman Mailing List. And you can put Single brothers and uncles and whatever other men you could not unwittingly mislead on your list. Last year I sent chocolates to my Single brother.
Oh, this reminds me that I did a poll, and more Singles were enthusiastic about getting valentines and chocolates from their Single female friends then from their Married female friends. So if you are married and long to inject some chocolate cheer into Single friends' lives, consider your list carefully. In your case, relations and bestest friends only.
I do not at all recommend that Married men send valentines and chocolate to ANYONE but their wives. Leave care of Single women to your wives. Seriously.
Now I will put up a poll, so if you want to pledge that you will send valentines and chocolates to 3-5 Single friends, click on the button.
The beauty of this is that even if you get NOTHING, not a card, not a chocolate, not a candy, not a flower, YOU will have given a lift to 3-5 other Singles. And that thought should keep you smiling as you await your cozy Girls Night In.
Now, if you are Single, Valentine's Day is the worst day of the year. It doesn't help if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend either, because then you have EXPECTATIONS, expectations that are often dashed and trampled by fate. Long-term girlfriends silently expect engagement rings, and long-term boyfriends silently expect their girlfriends to be thrilled by the charm bracelets they bought them.
Really, the whole thing is ghastly if you're Single.
However, when you are a Single woman without a boyfriend, as I knew first-hand for years and years, Valentine's Day still dominates your consciousness, and you feel lousy at the end. You feel lousy in part because of the faint hope than an "Anonymous Admirer" might send you something. If you have an "Anonymous Admirer" surely Valentine's Day is the day he will declare himself, but--guess what? He so rarely does, and that sucks.
So I have come up with a campaign for Single women, and this is its second official year. I call it Operation Valentinus. It's simple:
1. Draw up a list of three-five Single boyfriendless women you care about.
2. Buy each a valentine and a box of chocolates. The chocolates are more important than the valentine, so don't stint on the chocolates. Sign your own name on the card, of course.
3. Post the valentines and the chocolates (preferably together) to your Single friends. Write "Do Not Open Until Valentine's Day" on the package.
4. Organize a Girls Night In for February 14th. (The "In" part is important so that you aren't hit on by predatory men looking for lonely women that night.) Figure out who's bringing the supper, the cake, the candy, the DVD, the champagne, you name it.
Now, I don't want to punish girls with boyfriends, here, so if you want to, you can put girls with boyfriends on your Single Woman Mailing List. And you can put Single brothers and uncles and whatever other men you could not unwittingly mislead on your list. Last year I sent chocolates to my Single brother.
Oh, this reminds me that I did a poll, and more Singles were enthusiastic about getting valentines and chocolates from their Single female friends then from their Married female friends. So if you are married and long to inject some chocolate cheer into Single friends' lives, consider your list carefully. In your case, relations and bestest friends only.
I do not at all recommend that Married men send valentines and chocolate to ANYONE but their wives. Leave care of Single women to your wives. Seriously.
Now I will put up a poll, so if you want to pledge that you will send valentines and chocolates to 3-5 Single friends, click on the button.
The beauty of this is that even if you get NOTHING, not a card, not a chocolate, not a candy, not a flower, YOU will have given a lift to 3-5 other Singles. And that thought should keep you smiling as you await your cozy Girls Night In.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Another Year Auntier!
It is my birthday, and to celebrate B.A. and I are having lunch with four Singles in a French restaurant. We did not invite them with an idea of pairing them off (which thought rather boggles the mind), but because we like them. They are all very amiable, talented Singles with interesting Single lives.
On my 35th birthday, I stumbled around the dark, rainy streets of Boston with my Single male housemates (bless their little hearts) looking for a club. We found one, and it was not really the place for philosophy/theology Ph.D. students such as we. It blasted rap and Hip-Hop for the expensively dressed twenty-something white yuppies standing fashionably around with cocktail glasses, and I was simply miserable.
It occured to me that I was tired of a decade of being 25, and that I would like to grow up now. THIS birthday (it being one of those BIG birthdays, hint, hint), I vowed, if I were still Single, I would like to spend with children, real children, like my nephew, as their very grown-up aunt.
Well, that nephew is with his mother in Ecuador, and my subsequent nephew and niece are with their parents in Canada, so I will not have the mateteral thrill of watching small children spread my birthday cake all over their wee faces. However, I am glad B.A. is taking me and four of our friends to lunch, and that instead of going to a club after, we are going to watch The King's Speech.
Since this is a Singles blog, you may be wondering what I would be doing today if I were not married. And the answer, I think, is that I would have taken a train to my brother's house, and ordered the biggest chocolate cake his children had ever seen in their tiny lives. Yes, no doubt I would have returned to Toronto this weekend to go dancing with my girlfriends--and indeed next week I will go dancing with my girlfriends--but for the day itself I would have kept the vow I made at 35. I would have rejoiced in being Auntie.
P.S. Do you remember Operation Valentinus? It is time to think about sending your fellow Singles chocolates by mail. Stay tuned tomorrow for details.
On my 35th birthday, I stumbled around the dark, rainy streets of Boston with my Single male housemates (bless their little hearts) looking for a club. We found one, and it was not really the place for philosophy/theology Ph.D. students such as we. It blasted rap and Hip-Hop for the expensively dressed twenty-something white yuppies standing fashionably around with cocktail glasses, and I was simply miserable.
It occured to me that I was tired of a decade of being 25, and that I would like to grow up now. THIS birthday (it being one of those BIG birthdays, hint, hint), I vowed, if I were still Single, I would like to spend with children, real children, like my nephew, as their very grown-up aunt.
Well, that nephew is with his mother in Ecuador, and my subsequent nephew and niece are with their parents in Canada, so I will not have the mateteral thrill of watching small children spread my birthday cake all over their wee faces. However, I am glad B.A. is taking me and four of our friends to lunch, and that instead of going to a club after, we are going to watch The King's Speech.
Since this is a Singles blog, you may be wondering what I would be doing today if I were not married. And the answer, I think, is that I would have taken a train to my brother's house, and ordered the biggest chocolate cake his children had ever seen in their tiny lives. Yes, no doubt I would have returned to Toronto this weekend to go dancing with my girlfriends--and indeed next week I will go dancing with my girlfriends--but for the day itself I would have kept the vow I made at 35. I would have rejoiced in being Auntie.
P.S. Do you remember Operation Valentinus? It is time to think about sending your fellow Singles chocolates by mail. Stay tuned tomorrow for details.
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Today can be a good day.
Happy Valentine's Day to all my little Singles, especially Notburga, Berenike, Volker, Cecilia, Bolyongok, Theobromophile, Gruntette, IA_, Dominic Mary, Dayle, KimP, Hip2BSquare, DowntownDude, Calvinist Cath, Janet in Toronto, Wodkatonik, Shiraz, Frank Monozlai, Jasmina, Mary, Alephine, Elspeth, MargoB, Thwarted Throne, Alisha Ruiss, Lemons, Markyate Priory, Aussie Girl in Australia, Leonine, Healthily Sanguine, sciencegirl, The Sojouner, Claire Christina, Anna, Jessica, Francesca, Lizzie, Jen D, Clio, Maggie, Mark M, Aelianus, Papa Bear, Some Guy on the Street, Amy, B, Mulieris Fortis, Father PF, Father B, any other commentators and all the lovely lurkers.Valentine's greetings also to my married readers!
Special valentine's greetings to B.A.
Meanwhile, I am pleased to report that at least 3 of 4 overseas Operation Valentinus packages reached their targets in time.
Survival Tip: Every time you see a canoodling couple today, take a breath and silently say, "Bless their little hearts." It might be fun to count them, too. Count up each couple whose little hearts you bless, and then report to me!
Monday, 8 February 2010
Valentine's Day is not Failure Day
A pal of mine called Valentine's Day "Failure Day", and I was shocked. I've been so consciously peppy about the Single Life for so long, I've forgotten that other women are perfectly comfortable complaining about Valentine's Day and equating not getting anything on that day to a personal failure of Titantic proportions. Once again, I encourage all women out there to make or buy Valentines for such Single female friends and relations who will not blow up like TNT in response to your kindness. Single men can fight off their V-Day loneliness by also doing a similar good deed, only in their case I recommend sending these valentines to Mom or Mum, Auntie and Sis, who cannot possibly read anything scary into them.
My five-year-old nephew Pirate, soon to become as famous as Christopher Robin (I hope), once electrified a room of his female relations by suddenly saying to his mother, "Mommy, you're my little sweetheart."
All his female relations cried "Awwww!" in one voice and looked all tender and misty and in danger of melting like butter in a puddle on the rug.
So I think that only good can come of brothers and sons and nephews firing off or bringing valentines and chockies such kinswomen as they are strictly forbidden by God and man to marry.
If you do something nice for someone on Valentine's Day, that day cannot possibly be a failure. Meanwhile, the day is a fantastic excuse for Single Women to have a party and tell (risque) jokes and watch Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean or Colin Firth's wet shirt in Pride and Prejudice.* It is an opportunity to dress as Marilyn Monroe or Jane Russell and sing a chorus of "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend." It is a Women's Solidary Day of epic proportions, which is no doubt why the [Woman's Private Part] Monologues are staged that day on Roman Catholic college campuses across the USA and at secular colleges elsewhere.
Personally, I always had better things to do on February 14 than listen to horrible stories about rape by soldiers and 'empowering' stories about statuatory rape by seductive lesbians, all in the company of the kind of man who can be talked into going to such a show. Apparently the audience participates by chanting an Anglo-Saxon word no lady or gentleman ever utters, no matter how stressed out she or he is. If the F-word is merely a bomb, this word is a weapon of mass destruction plus cancer thrown in.
No, there are better things that Single people can do for fun on Valentine's Day. They just need a little ingenuity and planning. So please, dear Single readers, my angels, reveal in the comm box what you're going to do on Sunday. By so doing you may give helpful ideas to your fellow Singles. I am going to an afternoon cocktail party being hosted by a clever, romance-less Single man. No doubt he will be rolling in chocolates by supper.
*Update: Fraternal correction by Berenike leads me to note that if for you sharing risque jokes and admiring matinee idols, even in all-female company, are occasions for sin, and not the female bonding devices they are for me, then obviously you shouldn't do those things. Frankly, I think reading romance novels with erotic scenes--a very common (and solitary) female habit--much, much worse. But, anyway, gnothe seauton.
Monday, 1 February 2010
Cognitive Dissonance?
Update: You can pre-order Seraphic Singles now by way of novalis.ca! Tip: this may be easier over Firefox than over Internet Explorer. The book comes out on March 1!Okay, so you've met this great Catholic guy. Your friends like him. You like him. You hang out a bit. Then you go for coffee. You both have fun. You hang out some more. Then you end up having dinner. It's fun, too. He calls you every second day. You get together once or twice a week. You're even thinking of taking swing dance class together. Your friends ask, "Has he kissed you yet?" and "Do you think he's the One?"
Meanwhile, you're discerning, and good for you. You're praying about it. You're saying, "God, is this the guy for me? Can I keep seeing this guy? I really like him, so I hope so. Should we be in a relationship? I feel a kind of spark..." And you think God is saying "Yes." Of course, you really WANT God to say "Yes", so... Hmm...
Then the great Catholic guy kisses you at the door, and you tell your housemate, and she high-fives you, and now you have to watch out because your hormones are going wild, and you're really looking forward to your next date, and then he tells you that he's really excited because he's going to Rome that summer as part of his discernment for the priesthood.
Welcome to Catholic life in the 21st century, my little chick-a-dees!
I think I've told you about the girl who believed the Holy Spirit was calling her to marry this friend of hers, "Tom". Tom did not agree. "Cate" was very upset that Tom was so deaf to the call of the Spirit that he did not hear Him calling Tom to marry Cate. Cate was very frustrated that Tom was ruining her vocation to marry him. But then Tom married someone else and had five children, and somewhere in there Cate got married to someone else and had three children.
Discerning your vocation is both A) a process and B) an inside-outside activity. God calls you inside your head, and He also calls you from the community. I suddenly had a big suspicion that I had a vocation to marriage after all when I fell in love with B.A., and then I was confirmed in this vocation when B.A. asked me to marry him, and then I accepted this vocation fully the minute I married B.A. in church, surrounded by approving friends and family. The role you play in the community is not up to just you.
So when you are discerning your vocation, you're never 100% absolutely sure until you are at an altar taking vows. You have to proceed from a position of 50%-80% sure. If you think you might be called to become a Benedictine nun and you've been praying about it, and talking about it, and going through spiritual direction, and you're only 80% sure, 80% is good enough for you to join the Benedictine novitiate. Or so would say Fr Stephen Wang, author of How to Discover your Vocation, which is published by CTS. (I got it from the back of my UK church for ₤1.95. It is excellent, except for ending before getting around to vocations to the Single life.) The novitiate is where you will progress to 90% or where you will discern that you'd feel happier out of the novitiate.
Now when you are 80% sure that the vocation that will bring you the most happiness and fulfillment is marriage, you continue your discernment by praying about it, talking about it, going to spiritual direction and keeping an eye out for someone to marry. And just as people interested in religious life visit religious orders, people interested in married life visit (or date) other people interested in married life.
Dating is, therefore, part of the process of discernment of a vocation to marriage. But it does lead to temptations, just as (I suppose) a visit to an order with a well-stocked liquor cabinet and snob appeal can lead to temptations of another kind. You need a certain amount of inner freedom in order to truly discern God's call, and getting attached too quickly through sexual stuff is the fastest way to wreck your inner freedom. God calls you to be open to other people, but He does not call you to occasions for sin. Nor does He call you to be a scandal for others by being all kissy-kissy in Catholic dorms.
Anyway, if you think you should date a guy, and somewhere along the line it just doesn't feel right, then it should be just like visiting a religious order that doesn't feel right. You might really enjoy your time, and you should leave as friends, but it is not that big a deal. It only becomes a big deal if you fall into sin or make promises you can't keep or just keep hanging out because you don't want to move on. But if you don't move on, you can't hear God's call and you can't find out where (or with whom) you're meant to be. My cardinal rule is, "If he doesn't give you a ring after a year of dating, you're through."
Yes, of course there will be disappointment. Nuns and monks put up with disappointment all the time: they're getting older, the postulants are getting fewer, and lovely young thing after lovely young thing comes, eats, stays a while, and then leaves. Too many who want to stay are bonkers or just a bad fit, and have to be asked to leave.
Meanwhile now-married me was disappointed when I dated some nice guy, and he broke up with me, and many nice guys have been disappointed when I dated them and then broke up with them. It would have been better if I had been a better Catholic and thought of dating not as a social accomplishment proving my worth as a woman but as a way of discerning my vocation and helping male friends discern theirs. There would have been less kissy-kissy and fewer broken hearts.
It could be that I was Single for so long because God wanted me to shape up my ideas. (And it could be that my husband was Single for so long because God wanted him to shape up his ideas, too.) Blogging "Seraphic Singles" and "Still Seraphic" was part of my own process of discernment. It also--and this is crucial--made me stop thinking about my own life and more about the lives of others. I admired famous Single people and acknowledged that many of them were nicer and braver people than I was and that I should be more like them. I read email from Single people who were sadder and lonelier than I was, and I learned to appreciate even more what I already had. I even got to the point where I could honestly stop praying "St. Anne, St. Anne, send me a man" and pray "Lord, Thy will be done." And, to my great surprise, God's will was for me to marry a certain Scotsman we call B.A.
God can do whatever God wills. And your discernment of God's will for you may take many winding paths. Don't get frustrated. Don't blame yourself for chastely dating X, Y and Z any more than a now-Jesuit blames himself for having hung out with the Franciscans, Benedictines and Spiritans first. Your vocation is not absolute until you take vows. Even an 80% devotion to the Single Life is not absolute, unless you take vows of perpetual celibacy. And even as Seraphic Single, I never got to 80% myself.
Update: It's February 1st. Have you decided to which Single friends you're sending Valentine's treats yet? Operation Valentinus is underway!
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Operation Valentinus
Okay, poppets. Here's the deal. Valentine's Day is three weeks away. I know, I know. Ugh. Why remind you so far in advance? Well, it is all part of my cunning plan.Valentine's Day can be a tough day for everybody. If you're Single with no sweetie, you feel utterly left out. If you're Single with a sweetie, you are a mass of anxiety. Will he propose? Will she like the scarf I bought her, or would she rather some furry earmuffs? (Jewellery? Wha---?) If you're Married, you have a nervous eye on the bank account. If you're a Priest, you may find yourself booked for overtime comforting crying Singles and disappointed Wives. And the cheap Valentine's Day stuff in John Lewis department store in Edinburgh is so tacky, I wonder myself, "Why bother?"
Frankly, there's not much we can do for Married people on Valentine's Day, short of suggesting that the female half of the comedy duo not have any expectations. Yes, she can expect a card and maybe a box of drug store chocolate because, unless he's blind, her husband is going to know that it is indeed Valentine's Day and that women love Valentine's Day and that husbands who ignore Valentine's Day get into trouble. But don't expect roses with petals like velvet and ruby earrings. If you do get them, they will be a delightful surprise. But if you expect nothing, and then get a new pair of suede gloves or a juicer, that will be a delightful surprise too.
Let us turn to Single people, both the merely anxious and the utterly left out. I want you to make a list of your Single friends. Women, get a pen and a piece of paper. Start writing. I can wait. Write, write, write.
Okay, now, look at my statistics on Single people and their attitudes towards Valentine's Day presents. It's on the right-hand side. (Scroll up a bit.) If you can't see it, type seraphicsinglescummings.blogspot.com in your browser and find if you can see it now. (Feb 4 Update: Poll gone. Just see below for the results.)
Welcome back. My Valentine's Day present results show that the vast majority of Singles who answered the poll would be delighted to receive a Valentine's Day card and chocolate on Valentine's Day. Of them, 33 would be delighted if a Single friend sent them and 3 would be cheesed off. Then 22 would be delighted if a Married female friend sent them and 8 would be ticked. Finally, 28 would be delighted if a relation sent ye olde card or candy, and 6 would be annoyed.
Now look at your list.
The Mission
If you are a Single woman, your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to send chocolates and/or cards to the people on your Singles list. If you're short of cash, just pick the first 3-5. Make the girls priority.
If you are a Married woman, you are sending stuff, too, only you're going to think much more carefully about this. Cross off the Singles on your list who have serious sometimes-I-hate-you-now-that-you-are-married stuff they're still struggling with.
If you are a relation, go for it, but NOT if you have a track record of asking at every family function, "Find anybody yet, honey? Oh, too bad! Maybe if you...blah blah blah." Pick the sisters, nieces, grand-daughters and aunts you send presents to at Christmas. Don't make this Valentine's Day the only time in a year you've communicated, or they may mistake your sudden rush of affection for nagging. And Mom always deserves a card. Always. For any occasion.
Men should think very, very carefully before taking on this mission themselves. Go look up the meaning of "Bull in a China Shop." Valentines and chocolates from Single men friends to Single female friends will usually be construed as courtship gifts unless their platonic friendship is of long and firmly platonic standing. Chocolates and cards from a married man, a priest or a elderly widower can freak girls right out.
Meanwhile, women should think carefully about which Single men friends they might send stuff to, for how terrible if the Single man friend should take this as the signal to carry you off to Gretna Green or Los Vegas. Eeek!
The Message
For Operation Valentinus, a blank card with a cute front is the best medium.
Single women are in a position of moral strength and assurance when sending Valentine's Day cards to other women. They can write, to Singles with no sweeties, "From one Single to another, Happy Valentine's Day." Writing this to Singles with sweeties, Singles who might be hoping for The Ring that day, is a bit trickier. "Friends Forever" is a nice sentiment that doesn't stress a perhaps onerous Singleness.
Married women might want to use this "Friends Forever" message. Or they could underscore what they and Single Pal still have in common: i.e. femininity. "Girls Rule!" would work for me.
Relations can ponder their relationship to their beloved Single relation in their message. Sometimes no message is necessary. The best Valentine's Day present of my entire life was a box of gold-wrapped chocolate hearts that just mysteriously appeared on my desk. It was from my dad. Dear old Dad has no sisters, went to a boarding school for boys, is really not into girls' stuff. But some impulse made him buy all his unmarried daughters at home chocolate hearts that year. And I was, like, "Yay! Best Dad in the universe!"
I really hadn't been expecting anything that day, and so Dad's gift was such a nice surprise, I want to pass it on in the shape of Operation Valentinus here.
The Acceptance
If you are Single and you receive Valentine's Day chocolate and/or cards from your other Single friends, from your Married friend or from your relations, your mission is to enjoy them. When a suitor gives you something, unless it is an engagement ring, it might be (in the long run) meaningless. Suitors come and go. But if your female friend or your relative gives you something, it does mean something. It means that people care for you. You have friends. You have real love in your life, even if it's not the kind of love peddled by the Disney movies. So bathe in it. Eat the yummy chocolates and send a thank-you note.
Meanwhile, my little Singles and Marrieds, if you take on this mission, I can assure you that when you wake up on Valentine's Day, you will not do it with dread. You will do so knowing that you have done your bit to take care of your beloved Single friends on a psychologically difficult day. You rule.
P.S. Don't send anything until Feb. 1. And write "Don't open until Feb 14" on the envelope or package. The goal is to give beloved Singles a lift on the actual day itself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)