Saturday, February 25, 2012
Solo and De-quirked
I've seen a bunch of stories lately about the trend towards living alone both here in the U.S. as well as in Europe. I pick up on these stories because I live alone, I guess that's why.
There's a long feature piece in the New York Times today about how living alone brings out quirkiness. It is among the ten most emailed stories. How weird is that? I believe this must not be a big news week. If there was something truly interesting going on, who would give a rat's ass about emailing a link to a feature such as this one? I wonder about these things.
Living alone has not magnified my quirkiness, in fact, I believe I'm less quirky than I was while living in the house on Tennessee Avenue, re-washing pots and pans because my housemates didn't really get into scrubbing all that much, for instance. Now that I live alone, I do my dishes once. I think I'm more normal here than I was there.
The people interviewed for the story speak of standing naked in their kitchens at 2:00 a.m. eating peanut butter out of a jar, or leaving a bra on the dining room table. Is that quirky? I guess. Imagine me shrugging my shoulders. I think it's quirky that people believe these behaviors to be quirky.
My behavior is fairly boring. I live in a clean apartment (no bras on the table), I cook and eat at mealtime, post to the blogs, play WWF on the ipad, listen to music, read the New Yorker, do laundry, vacuum and dust, hang out on FB. I also work here which is lovely and unremarkable, I think. During NaNoWriMo I got a little quirkier, rising at 5:00 a.m. to write for two hours every day. I guess that's quirky. Is it?
Living alone has made me less quirky. No one from the New York Times called to interview me, hence the unbalanced reporting in that piece, I think. Yes?