Dear mike,
Thank you so much for your recent letter. I was flattered, to say the least. Every once in a while I get the occasional letter from some kindhearted fella wondering if I am, in fact, single. Well, to answer your question: Yes. I am totally and completely single. Well, about as single as a single mother raising two children half of the time can be. What I'm saying is that at the current time, I am without a significant other. Which is actually somewhat of a rarity. You see, I am a relationship junkie.
I'm the type of woman who is more comfortable in a relationship than out of one. So much so that I've been known to stay in a not-so-good situation far past it's freshness date for fear of being out there alone in the cold, scary world of "I."
To brief you, the world of "I" is to singles what "time out" is to children. It's like punishment for adults who don't have a significant other when invited by the "we's" to join them in their "we are having a party," "we are going to the movies," "we would love for you to join us."
Just between you and I, I think it's a conspiracy. I think secretly the "we's" live in constant fear of the I's. I think what they are really saying is, "We would invite you to join 'us' but 'we' are afraid that your 'I' could be contagious and that 'we' could catch what you have and then our 'we' would be reduced to two 'I's' and that would be devastating to 'us,' so 'we' opt to only invite you, the 'I', into 'our' lives on limited occasions."
For example: Thanksgiving. I received so many gracious invitations from various "we's" who couldn't stand the thought of me spending the holiday alone, being that my children were spending it with their father and his family. I actually entertained the thought of taking one or more of them up on their invites. But in the end, I was plagued by the vision of sitting amongst the happy we's, all chatting animatedly about all of the things they are most thankful for and knowing that in the forefront of their minds it was that they were not like me, the lonely I standing out like a sore thumb at the end of the table like a leper feasting on my own dead and rotting flesh. So, I decided to go it alone. Foregoing even the thought of calling my ex-boyfriend to beg an invitation to be a we if only for one more day. And I did it. I rented movies and feasted on turkey pot pie for I. You know what, Mike? It wasn't half as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Don't get me wrong, I haven't joined the ranks of the "I am woman, hear me roar; I don't need no stinkin' man to validate me as a woman" lone- wolf approach that many of my single gal pals have adopted. But it was nice to know that I could make it through a big holiday like a grown up and not fall apart at the mere thought of growing old alone. I have actually resigned myself to the idea that that could very well be my fate. That my life will just be a series of interviews to see if I'd like to start dating someone to see if I'd like to have a relationship with someone that I will inevitably date until the "new car smell" of the relationship wears off and then I have to start all over again.
Not that I'm above it, but that's not what I want, Mike. What I want more than anything in the world is to find that special someone who will take me on the next part of my journey, hopefully to happily ever after. Someone with whom I will feel safe enough to fall asleep with—as the inside spoon—night after night after night. And with whom I can feel comfortable enough to wake up next to years down the road when my Cross Your Heart Bra is crossing at my navel. Someone who isn't afraid to love and be loved all the way. Someone who can help me to realize that yes, eventually the "new car smell" of a relationship will fade over time, but that that doesn't have to mean the end of the relationship.
I'm not sure if it's because I write a relationship column or if it's because I've been in Las Vegas my entire life, or if it's because I'm an I, but for some reason I am asked the same question almost daily: Where can I go to meet great single people? My answer is usually the same: How in the hell should I know? If I knew I'd be a we by now, right? I've tried various coffee shops, grocery stores, book stores, gyms, yoga studios, churches (yes, I said churches), restaurants, bars (blech!), you name it. I even went online for a short time, (don't judge, Mike). Here's what I've come up with: Mr. Right is obviously picking up his dry cleaning on Tuesdays while I pick up mine on Wednesdays and I keep missing him by that much.
I've decided to take matters into my own hands. For my own personal reasons, I got to thinking that I could host a singles mixer and bring really great single-and-searching people together and in the process raise money for an excellent cause.
So, Mike, here's the shot: I am going to take you up on your offer to meet me. Along with my very single, very beautiful friend Debora, I will host the first "Voice For The Children" Singles Mixer on Saturday, 6-9 p.m. at Z'Tejas on Paradise. It will be a fund-raiser for abused and neglected children. Admission is $10 and there will be tons of raffle prizes and a silent auction, with all proceeds going to benefit Child Haven.
Thus, if after reading this letter you are still even remotely interested in meeting me I would like nothing more than to find out if we can take the I in Mike and the I in me and maybe, just maybe see about becoming a we.
If not ... eat your heart out!