What if I don't want to be alone?

it's reader mail time!

Briefly: If you’re in the UK, you have another day to take advantage of the 25% off pre-order deal Waterstones is running on I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself, which now has an official pub date of July 3, 2025! Such an honour. Flakes and Twirls for everyone. [Fun, crazy-making, fact: Growing up, my Speak and Spell toy was American made and I always had to decide between wanting a perfect score, or wanting to spell colour correctly. #CanCon]

Now! On to the first Good Decisions Reader Mail edition. This was so fun. If you want to submit your own, you can do so here. Also, if you like getting your mail, now is a good time to add that to the list of things you’re telling your representatives.

I enjoyed your piece about eating alone, and doing things alone takes a bit of practice but it's worth it. There are some things tho that I find hard to do alone: amusement parks, big concerts, fairs, mostly because they are more fun to do with others, not as much fun by yourself. Any thoughts on either doing things like that alone, OR finding others to go along?

I’d hate for you all to think that just because I take immense enjoyment from my alone time that I don’t also fully believe in together time. I take enormous joy in my friends, as you know, and there have been plenty of instances where I’d prefer to be doing something with others, and for whatever reason (including that I often just can’t get it together enough to organize) I end up doing it by myself. Which is frequently great, and enjoyable; I don’t ever want to miss out for want of company (related: always be the kind of company that is worth missing). But also, some things are more fun with others. (That said, I actually love attending concerts by myself. One of my best concert experiences was the time I bought a last-minute ticket to Patti Smith in Paris in 2019.)

When I’m flying solo in places where’d I’d rather not be, I opt for one of two ways to be. I either sink deep into my Harriet the Spy alter ego, and spend a lot of my time observing others. Other people are great theatre, and I love to eavesdrop.

OR I put on my older person at the post office persona and become someone who strikes up conversations with others. This takes practice. Mostly in the sense of being able to identify people you actually want to be in conversation with. Unless you’re feeling especially daredevil, in which case, go forth and be fast and loose with your small talk. Americans are generally friendly and love to talk. Same with the English. Same with the Italians. (This does not work in France.) If you don’t feel like doing the opening tap dance some conversations require, just be straight and say, “I’m here by myself. Any suggestions?” People generally love to be helpful, is my experience.

NOW. If you want to find people to do something with, you have two options. Be an organizer and plan in advance. Depending on the stage of life your friends are in, this might mean giving them enough time to organize child care/accepting your excursion will include kids (not necessarily a bad thing!)/understanding at least half the people will cancel/putting up with someone’s partner you’d rather not put up with. If you go this route, I would also suggest you consider inviting people you don’t know very well (or even at all), but would like to know better. Groups are a great way to take the pressure off.

OR you can just not make plans at all and take your chances. Ask people that day, and see what happens. I’m currently of the opinion that you stand a better chance of seeing people when you do things last-minute because technology makes it so easy to cancel. These days, I have way more luck asking people one-to-two hours ahead of time, than I do one-to-two weeks. The other day my friend Rachel organized a dinner for eight people on like 10 hours notice. And everyone showed up! In a snowstorm. The risk with this, obviously, is that people may already be booked, in which case, see above re doing things alone.

Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, is still my favorite Scorcese, but this was delightful. Imagine taking on Edith Wharton! Also I appreciate that he switched the hair colours. An excellent spirit vs letter decision.

I made a huge decision to change jobs, and move several states away. How do I maintain excitement when I now have mountains of paperwork, moving logistics, endless hoops to jump through? Thanks!

First of all, congratulations. Moving to a new state, and a new job, is truly huge. Personally, I think any kind of moving is huge. All my major adult moves have taken place within the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn and they have been big life events. But this sort of uprooting is especially brave. Well done, and bon courage!

The challenge for me when I move is resisting panic, so I’m impressed you’re looking for excitement. Here’s the thing, though. Not everything involves excitement. Not everything should involve excitement. Sometimes life takes a mundane turn and you go through a phase where all the world has to offer you is paperwork, logistics and hoops. I’ve come to embrace these phases. They can be a necessary respite. I try to see them for what they are, buckle down, and release myself from the expectation of fun. I find there is something, if not exactly enjoyable, than reassuring in this.

A small example, which is by no means the equivalent of changing jobs and moving states: A few weeks back I picked up a freelance writing gig that I would describe, loosely, as involving a lot of endless and not terribly enjoyable logistics (except the paycheck, which is very enjoyable). When I said yes to it, I recognized that, along with the work, I was accepting that for a specific period of time life would be less than what I preferred it to be. I find recognizing this in advance, and knowing the end date, makes it all much easier. And I was right, on all counts. Workwise, it’s been a rather mundane few weeks.

Of course, yesterday afternoon, once I’d finished this work for the week, I promptly took myself downtown to Metrograph for a late afternoon showing of Age of Innocence (which was packed, by the way, and by the youth! A decidedly different demo than my usual Film Forum comrades). Afterward, I walked up to Greenwich Village in the arctic temperatures. A few blocks from Knickerbocker, I decided that if there was a seat at the bar I was going to treat myself to their French Onion soup and a glass of red wine (if there wasn’t, my bathtub awaited). And there was a seat! (See above re not planning.) Better yet, right after I ordered, two regulars came in and the bartender asked me if I would mind moving down the bar so they could sit together (obviously fine) and then she bought me a second glass for being so accommodating.

Point being, dinner alone at a bar remains one of life’s great gifts and when you are in the logistical, hoops, paperwork valley, treat yourself in the small ways available to you, knowing that on the other side awaits the excitement you’ve temporarily forfeited, which in your case, will contain multitudes, I’m sure.

Next week: Everything I (re)read this month.