Happiness Is Overrated

The first entry should act as a sort of mission statement. A manifesto of the single mom in the suburbs, a person who is, for various structural and economic reasons and by pure happenstance, somewhere she would rather not be. Poe said that a good story should be read in one sitting. Then someone else said that a good story should be written in one sitting. I'm trying to do this, which is why I don't have time to look up who said this.

But this not really a short-story. It's more of an investigative tramping expedition... the intention here is to shed light and humor on a sometimes dullish but mostly wonderful existence...

The plan is to document my life in the suburbs in the spirit of making lemonade from life's lemons. And why, you ask, is life in the suburbs so horrible for a single mother? Surely, with divorce rates sky-rocketing and single-parent households increasingly the norm, a single mother shouldn't stay single for long. "Perhaps," you might say, "it is your own fault you are single and not the fault of the suburbs, and why not move to the city if you're so unhappy?"

"Perhaps," I would respond, "you are right. It may very well be my fault. I do plan on moving. But it is not actually accurate that single parents are increasing. Divorced ones are." I happen to be single. Being in a shared custody relationship is not the same as being single. In some ways, single is easier. I can move whenever I want, raise my daughter how I want. Bref, there is no negotiation. But a woman in a shared-custody relationship has one benefit that I do not have: the odd Friday night off. And let's face it, I'm not going to invite some guy to my house to meet my kid on a first date. So, I should add to my title-- sexless in the suburbs, or worse, sexless single mom in the suburbs. (If I add that, I might actually attract some fans.)

But let us get at this sex-problem a bit. Because really, I'm not so poor I couldn't hire a babysitter, and it's not like there aren't any men around. I see them, at the gym, blowing snow off their driveways. I've even been approached. They are mostly illiterate, lonely, materialistic and.... married. If they are not married, they are so recently divorced that they might as well be. If they are genuinely single, and still choose to live here, what the fuck is wrong with them? Well, check out the other three adjectives on the list.

I would finally respond that being unhappy makes far better blog-material than happiness. If I was happy, I would write a book about it. You would find it in the self-help section of your local bookstore. But the fact is, I don't want to be happy. I want to be unhappy in interesting ways. I think this is our birthright. It is actually the secret to real happiness in the West (where most unhappiness is an attitude problem anyway). My desire to be unhappy in interesting ways is precisely what makes me unhappy in the suburbs where everyone is living The Dream. Logic dictates that someone who is "living The Dream" is asleep.

But I can't leave this life behind without first documenting it, because it is, in its own way, worth something.

So let us interrogate this situation, shall we? Let us embark on a journey of what life in the suburbs is really like for a single mother, and if the misery, monotony and (in)voluntary celibacy are not interesting and amusing. There are also moments, I might add, of real joy and beauty. I will include all of it. I promise I will try to be funny. And really, what could be more funny than dating? Especially online dating. I've been doing a bit of that recently, so let me give you an account of a real, bonafide single-mother-in-the-suburbs date. This guy, he's named X, and he's what I'd call a real S.O.C. (Suburbanite Of Choice)


My next post is titled-- "Mr. Bald Balls"-- stay tuned...