They're concerned about my intolerance for folks who don't drink and those who may have made the marital mistake a few too many times.
My first answer is "you're entitled to your preferences and I'm entitled to mine."
But that, of course, doesn't make for interesting conversation, a compelling essay or a marketable movie when Oprah's Harpo Productions purchases the rights to my weblog.
So I thought about it. Am I intolerant?
Actually, I don't think I am. Based on a quick review of my life, it looks like I'm tolerating a whole bunch of stuff. And, I'm proud to say, I'm tolerating without lecturing.
I honestly do believe in "live and let live." Aside from basic teasing of folks I know - which I'm obligated to do - I don't question how they live their lives.
I need to correct that. I do question how they live their lives. Remember, I'm a writer and a person obsessed with pondering useless shit. Plus, I listen to Dr. Laura every day.
Yes, I question how others live their lives.
But what I don't do is advise them or correct them or implore them to change. Unless, of course, they've expressed interest in my doing that.
And the nice thing is that I really don't care how other people live. If they're living a law-abiding life and not pushing the envelope too far on bugging other people or destroying their children, I figure everyone lives the way they're comfortable living.
But, that doesn't mean I enjoy inviting everybody and their distinct lifestyle into my life. I'm as normal as anybody else. Certain lifestyles just conflict with mine.
The biggest conflict that comes to my head is chaos. I really have problems with folks whose lives - and inner lives - are chaotic. I don't mean I have a problem with them. I just mean I have a problem being at my best while dealing with them.
Now, of course, anyone who knows me might be thinking "but your life is chaotic."
And there's the critical factor as far as I'm concerned. Yes, my life's been a bit crazy this year and particularly this summer. But that's just my life...not me.
Changing homes, shifting work locations, packing, not packing, being single, hating the dating part of being single. It's been a little busy.
But having a lot going on in your life isn't the same as having chaos. Aside from the occasional bouts of stress, I'm pretty relaxed. And calm. My life sometimes looks crazy when I visit three states six times in eight hours. But inside, the water's still.
So I really don't like other people's inner chaos. It's hard enough to maintain your own inner calm.
But even more than chaos, I've realized my uneasiness with extremes.
Maybe it's my rebellious nature that makes me wary of extremes. I grew up itching to do the opposite of what I was told to do. Actually, it wasn't an itch so much as a default or a drive. My nature was just contrary. At least where authority was concerned. And I guess when you're younger everyone's pretty much authority.
"Go to sleep" was just a dare for me to lie awake all night. It was almost like "go to sleep" was a curse. If I was told to go to sleep, I couldn't sleep at all. Maybe that's why I sleep all the time now. I'm making up for all that missed sleep during my childhood.
And, of course, "don't eat sweets" just made sweets all the more appealing. Even though my sweet tooth is weak at best.
It was just that the imposition of denial or restriction aggravated my instincts. Kind of like when someone tells you not to look. Maybe you didn't even want to look in the first place. But once you're told you can't look, that's all you want to do. Even if you don't really actually want to do it.
But I think my aversion to extremes goes deeper than mere reflex. I think it's always been the dilemma of black and white that drives me crazy.
I learned early that staying up late was bad. Going to bed early was good. Sweets were bad. Vegetables were good.
But I had a major problem with the fickle and illogical nature of the so-called rules.
If going to bed late was bad, how come so many people got to do it? And wanted to do it? And how come the good shows were on late?
If sweets were bad, how come the most popular girl in school always had tons of candy at her house? And how come everyone always got all excited about having dessert even before dinner was served?
I guess I didn't trust the concepts of bad and good since the rules weren't steadfast. It seemed only reasonable to me that if something were truly bad, it wouldn't be desired as much.
But the worst thing about the black and white culture that I grew up in was the hypocrisy. So many of the rules I learned early on got broken by those who made or flaunted them.
Parents who presented themselves as "perfect couples" ended up having affairs and getting divorced.
Some of the "great kid" straight A kids I knew ended up going to jail or rehab instead of college.
And some of the "religious" people I knew were observant only on holidays when they believed it counted. The rest of the time they felt free to conduct themselves in ways that were unethical and immoral.
And, as I got older, I saw more of the same. Some funnier. Some more sad.
There was a boyfriend - briefly - who kept kosher. But only at home. He ate at Burger King everyday for lunch.
I never said anything. I figured to each his own meat - kosher or not.
And I didn't even say anything when he rejected my apple pie at Thanksgiving.
We were going to my folks' house for turkey day and I knew he'd institute the kosher rule since we were going to a house and not to Burger King.
I accepted that he wouldn't eat turkey. I figured that was his choice. I just told my mom to make plenty of other stuff. And, being the kiss butt girlfriend I was, I ran far out of my way to a kosher bakery. Yeah, me, the anti-religion girl - bought a kosher apple pie at a kosher bakery.
On Thanksgiving, I proudly displayed the pie I'd chalked up extra mileage for.
And, of course, Mr. Extreme wouldn't eat it. It wasn't organic.
The weird thing is that he looked normal in every other respect. But he apparently loved his ever-changing food rules more than he liked having family, friends and a lover. He lost a bunch of family, friends and one lover that day. All without a lecture.
It's not that I can't accept or understand people's choices and idiosyncracies. I'm actually quite empathetic and a keen observer of the human dynamic. I understand the impact of circumstance. And of course I understand that people can change.
It's just that I'm always offended by those who aggressively assert their perfection or rightness while living their lives in ways that aren't so perfect and are sometimes far from right.
The black and white rules just never seemed very black and white at all. Gray areas always seemed much more pervasive.
And so I began - early on - living in gray. The only rules I trusted were the basic Golden Rule and a couple other ones I learned in first grade.
I definitely tried to treat others as I would want to be treated. It wasn't always - and still isn't - easy, but I concentrated on being aware and perceptive in my relationships with others. I don't know how successful I've been at treating others on par, but it is something I work at and strive to better all the time. Two points for trying. Three for getting it right some of the time.
Otherwise, it's basically just been "be nice," "do no harm" and "be prepared for a good opportunity." I figure that these tenets provide a solid foundation; all else should usually fall into place.
I have, however, made one addition to the basic rules. I've interpreted these "simple" rules as directives to action. The difference between actively and passively being nice is significant. As is the difference between an active and passive approach to doing no harm.
But, other than those few rules, I mostly live rule free. Aside from abiding by legal commands, legal prohibitions and community restrictions, there are very few rules systems I employ. Rules, to me, are just extremes. Do this, don't do this. This is bad. This is good. More of what I rejected a long time ago.
My friends tend to be similar. They're all pretty straight - or not straight - in terms of living a good, honest life. But, other than that, I'd characterize most or all of my friends as "whatever" people.
And it's funny, because my friends are all very passionate, involved people. I'm sure some people see my friends as a bit compulsive. Some of them run marathons and ultramarathons or do triathlons and Ironman competitions. It seems they'd have to follow lots of rules regarding their diets and schedules and training.
But, actually, those same miles-obsessed folks also tend to be pretty laid back. No major extremes in any particular category. Except for going to sleep pretty early.
And so, it only makes sense that in dating I'd seek out the same.
Right?
Well of course that's right. DUH!
But, of course, I'm the last one to figure out that little gem.
In my defense, I did realize early on that tallying one's favorite movies, favorite colors and favorite books got me no closer to knowing who they were and whether we'd mesh.
Apparently, if those are the criteria, Ted Kozinski and I have a lot in common.
And I did try being open to lifestyle. If the person wasn't a sports enthusiast, I visualized other ways in which we could connect. Especially on the all-important level of when to go to sleep and when to wake up.
You try convincing a non-athlete that waking up for 6am swimming isn't unreasonable.
"Christmas dinner at your folks' sounds great! But I need to be home by 7. The post-Christmas run is at 5am...can you drive me there? It's only an hour away!"
Yeah. I figured the details of likes and dislikes didn't matter so much if the basic lifestyle stuff worked. I figured I could be interested in any guy as long as he didn't mind lights out for me by 9pm.
But something was missing.
I found plenty of early risers. I even found plenty of guys interested in movies with distribution of fewer than twenty theaters nationwide. And, sure enough, I even found runners. And swimmers. And thinkers. And ponderers of silly things.
But something was missing.
I never asked the most basic question:
"Are you healthy?"
More importantly, I didn't focus on determining whether the guy was healthy in light of what healthy means to me.
What I really needed to know was whether a potential match had - and lived - the healthy balance I value.
Did he have friends? Did he see those friends enough to be a good friend but not so often that his friendships precluded a relationship with a woman?
Did he have interests of his own? Did he enjoy some hobby or pasttime or endeavor that he could share with others but also find enjoyment in by himself?
Did he have family relationships? As much as I appreciate dysfunction and the occasional need to separate from those who torture or abuse us, I needed to know if the person had reached some comfortable arrangement for having his family in life in a meaningful - or at least manageable - way.
And finally, did the person have an open mind and flexibility when it came to life's experiences? Did he welcome new experiences or was he bound by preconcieved notions of what he liked and didn't like.
Are you healthy?
I had never particularly thought about the isolated question before. Or its relevance to my life outside of my house. But I think I've hit my personal nail on the head.
I like health and I like healthy people.
And I definitely know how I define health in my life.
So, are you healthy? Answer the question before reading further.
Second question: did you answer that first question quickly or did you have to think about it?
Now, here's the better question: What does healthy mean to you? Do you know what healthy means to you?
I can answer the first question really quickly. I am healthy. And I know it because I check the state of my physical, emotional and intellectual health constantly. I can also tell you which of my friends would be able to answer that question quickly.
To me, personally, healthy means balanced. Really truly balanced. There's just something about extremes and absolutes that make me very nervous.
Someone who doesn't drink - by choice - asked me to answer the following question: "Why do you drink?"
My answer required no thought.
Why do I drink?
Because one or two glasses of wine or a good martini - shared with a friend or friends - is just so damn delicious a way to spend time. All of my friends love to go somewhere and taste a new wine we've never had or share sips of each other's martinis. It's fun. And yummy.
Sharing sips of a diet coke or water just isn't the same for some reason. Perhaps because it's not a new experience we're endeavoring together.
There's one particular restaurant my friends and I have gone to several times now where we just order some unpronouncable cheese and pate and then taste wine. If that's sounding too fancy, don't worry. It's Wendy's, PB&J and PowerGel the rest of the time.
It's just that sitting around having a glass of wine, relaxing and enjoying the ambiance is such a good environment for many hours of talking and being with friends. Which is exactly what my friends and I like to do.
Luckily, none of my friends is extreme in their drinking. It's rare that anyone has more than two glasses of wine or one mixed drink. And, of course, my parents and brothers love a good beer. Or even a bad one. Personally, I never developed a taste for beer. Wine's much more interesting to me.
And a glass of wine will definitely relax you better than a glass of water. I like that too.
But I never drink wine alone. There's no point. There's none in my house, unless I get a bottle as a gift...which I usually regift. Wine must be shared. So I guess it's the connection with friends that does it. And, it's much more fun to be part of the fun than to separate out from it.
But really, it's not about the drinking. It's not about do you drink or don't you drink?
I think it's really about whether you can meet others in the middle of moderation. Can you give and take in moderation? Can you share or not share in moderation? Can you hang in or hang out in moderation?
Moderation's a nice place to live. People tend to stay longer, live healthier and be calmer.
Plus, they don't worry so much when they eat too many bags of peanut M&Ms, miss a few days at the gym or watch too many "Man Show" marathons.
And, the public schools in the moderation district are very good, by the way.
It's ironic that I met my last soulmate because neither of us was drinking. We were both distanced a bit from the commotion around the beer at a hash. And we gravitated toward each other. He told me he didn't really drink. I told him I didn't really drink either.
It was only later when we were alone together that we shared a drink. With sushi. Fishy fish for me. Tastes-like-chicken fish for him.
Beer for him. Wine for me.
And, although I don't recall clearly now, I'm willing to bet that the joy of sharing was much much better than the buzz.