The Spinsterlicious Life (A Book Review)

The Spinsterlicious Life: 20 Life Lessons for Living Happily Single and Child-free by Ms. Eleanore Wells - Book Review

There are not a whole lot of books out there that share a positive view of single living women. So about a month ago when my phone buzzed to tell me I had a Twitter message from @spinsterlicious, Eleanore Wells, asking if I’d be interested in reviewing her new book, The Spinsterlicious Life: 20 Life Lessons for Living Happily Single and Child-free, I of course said “Yes” without hesitation. Aside from already harboring a desire to read and review the book, I was also flattered to have someone who I admire ask me for my opinion. The book arrived in the mail about five days later and I dove on in. I should note that other than a copy of the book I have received no compensation for this review.

I loved this book. Once I began reading it I couldn't stop. I carried it with me everywhere I went over the 48 hours following my receipt of it. I read it while waiting for the bus. I read it in between classes on campus. I read it when I should have been studying or doing homework. I read it in the kitchen while stirring a pot of simmering fish head soup. Over the past week I read it again in order to better prepared to write this long delayed review and I found I loved it just as much the second time through.

The Spinsterlicious Life is more than just an enjoyable and often humorous read however, it is an instruction manual for how to live happy and solo in a world that has done a pretty good job of convincing us that being coupled off is the only road to contentment. Written as 20 lessons, one chapter equaling one lesson, with titles that include the expected “Marriage. Kids. They’re not for everybody;” the humorous, “Be patient with women who’ve lost the ability to talk about anything but their kids;” and a few warnings, “Use birth control;” the book tells Ms. Wells’ personal journey from perceived old maid to spinsterlicious.

The book opens with an introduction that gives a bit of Ms. Wells’ background and an explanation of how she came to choose the word spinster to describe herself. The 20 lessons that follow contain a blend of her personal experience and the shared anecdotes of her fellow spinsters covering all areas of single life in an honest and often humorous fashion covering not only the joys and freedoms that come with living single (Lesson 2: Indulge yourself! Romance. Sex. Adventure.) but also the potential downsides that one may encounter (Lesson 4: If you don’t get married who is going to fix that?). Each lesson is self-contained and one can read the book straight through or pick and choose those chapters that immediately appeal.

Eleanore Wells writes with the voice of informed experience; that of someone who has the authority to give frank advice on her chosen subject because she has lived it. She has learned from her successes as well as her missteps, and she has come to know that she has something to authentically share. She does not shy away from telling the sometimes very personal story of how her life lessons were learned and those of us who are following in her spinsterlicious footsteps can only benefit from her experience.

Whether you are dancing happily down the road of self-declared spinsterhood, find yourself newly single and unsure how to manage it or you just want to find away to understand your maiden aunt who seems to be quite content to live the solo life, this book is well worth the read.

Spring has sprung...squeak

It’s springtime and while it is one of my favorite times of the year, it is also the time of year in which trees, flowers, grass and other forms of flora spew forth copious amounts of pollen into the air in the hopes that it will land on the sticky end of a waiting stamen, thus ensuring the continuance of their particular plant species.  I don’t begrudge the plants the fulfillment of their desire to reproduce.  I love the beauty that flowers bring and the resulting berries and fruits that are often the result of the frenzy of spring fever, but like many others out there I suffer from the unpleasant side effects of this annual flower orgy...

I sneeze, sniffle and wheeze my way through mid-spring.  My eyes water and itch, nose drips and my lungs rebel.  These symptoms are generally dealt with via a daily dose of allergy medication.  However there is one rather annoying side effect that does not seem to be readily resolved by any over the counter solution.  

 

It begins mildly enough, I start to get a bit of roughness that can at first be described as sultry but it only takes a few days to go from Kathleen Turner to Selma Bouvier and before too long, if I’m not careful, I find myself barely able to squeak out a “Hello.”  Now you might find yourself thinking, “Spinster Jane, you live alone, you work at home, and you are studying for finals.   What does it matter if you lose your voice? Other than your cats who in the world do you have to talk to?”

If you are asking that question you must be new the world of Spinster Jane or during my little writing hiatus you’ve forgotten that my life is generally a busy, though well planned, whirlwind of activity.  I have lots and lots to do and all of it involves speaking in some form or another.   Dinner with a friend I’ve not seen in over a month, two days of working in the office at the end of this week and a full day of performances booked for Saturday.   And next week?  Next week is not really all that different.    

Losing my voice presents all sorts of difficulties.

I do all of the things I should do.  I sip soothing tea laced with honey.  I make sure that when I am on stage I project my voice from my belly instead of my throat.  I try not to talk, much.  I cease singing in the shower.  In the end though all I can really do is wait it out.  So I muddle through mid-May to early June sounding like I never did quite smoking nine years ago and debating whether or not to take up the guitar so I can start a seasonal career as a sultry voiced folk singer.

Blog, blog, blog...or not

April 17th was the date of my last blog post.  It isn't that I've not wanted to write, it's that I've simply not had the time to write. 

"Waaaait a minute, didn't you say months ago that you were rearranging your life to make room for more creative pursuits including writing?"

Yup, indeed I did, however it took a lot more time than I expected for me to figure out just what those changes were going to be.  Now, finally, I'm actually on the edge of that happening.  

The spring semester is coming to an end in a week and as of this coming Sunday I will no longer be working two jobs.  There is more that I'll share soon but for now I'm just making sure that all of you know I am still here.  

Please check this space on Friday when a real blog post will be making an appearance, and next week a book review I've been wanting to write for some time now.  Plus a long overdue Spinster in the Kitchen update. 

Stay tuned!!

Ugly girls work hard and pretty girls are stupid

Newsflash to all my fellow spinsters:  if you find that you are single and successful in your career it's not because you actually wanted to pursue your dream it's because you decided long ago that you simply weren't pretty enough to land a man and so chose your career as the consolation prize.  At least this is the case according to a study done recently at the University of Texas at San Antonio.

To quote, "And among college-age women surveyed as part of the experimental portion of this research, those who rated themselves less attractive to men were morelikely to claim to aspire to a high-paying career."

...or maybe pretty girls are just stupid or more likely to be lazy?

Right.  This article by J. Maureen Henderson of Forbes.com breaks down the flaws of the study rather well including the assumption that the only reason a woman would choose to pursue a career is because if she can't have the security of a man taking care of her (because she is a hideous hag that no man wants) she really has no other choice than to do it herself:

"Tying career aspirations to not-so-thinly veiled evolutionary biology arguments takes self-actualization out of the mix, disregards that a woman might have 99 good reasons to become a computer programmer (and an inability to hook a man ain’t one) and assumes that our need to be attractive trumps our ambition. Maybe we’ve just figured out that we’re great leaders and want to exploit that?"

Oh wait, you mean some young women might actually want to follow a path that doesn't include marriage and children?  And wait...they might actually be happy doing so...oh, well we didn't even consider that.

A Quiet Sunday Morning

It’s a Sunday morning, almost afternoon, and I am sitting on the futon with my windows wide open and a cup of fresh coffee in my hand.  The spinster pride is scattered across the window sills chittering and meowing at the birds in the trees outside.  In the distance I can hear a dog barking. 

This is a rare quiet time for me.  I have written so many times before about how busy my life is and this past week was no exception.  I do have plans today, a paper to write, this evening my performance troupe has auditions after which I am meeting a visiting friend for conversation and a drink, but the next couple of hours are mine to do with as I wish. 

Right now, I am thinking that my wish will involve a blanket, a shady spot beneath a tree, a thermos of coffee and a book. 

First though, I should probably put on pants. 

Passion

Alright, just to get it out of the way, this post is not about the bosom heaving, sighing away the hours in the arms of a talented lover with whom I have such intense physical chemistry that I lose time and a sweat away a few pounds kind of passion. THAT is N.O.Y.B and while what is written below might contain enough sentiment* to be written to just such a lover, it is about a very different sort of passion...*you've been warned...it's full of it, and some parts are downright gooey, but I do mean every word.

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I always sort of thought that if I ever managed to be lucky enough to stumble across my passion, it would be in the pages of a novel I was writing or on a canvas I was painting.  I thought maybe I’d find it somewhere hidden in a mountain cabin after months of quiet, contemplative solitude.  Instead I found it smack in the middle of the town square, the air filled with the sound of a half dozen beating drums, shouting at the top of my lungs to a crowd of a hundred people, with dancers, jugglers, singers and fire spinners standing behind me waiting to entertain them, “Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we present to you....”

Passion is a difficult thing to explain. It is different than obsession with its all consuming nature, taking without any sort of return.  Obsession depletes but passion gives back.  Passion is at once a feeling and a thing.  It is symbiotic; its energy is increased by its self fueled creation.  

It is this passion that drives me to stay up late at night rewriting a press kit, updating a website, entering name after name into a mailing list database or negotiating a booking contract.  It is what brings ideas into my mind for show themes, scene introductions, or skit ideas and it gives me the commitment to write them down, flesh them out and eventually bring them to life on a stage.  

Passion gives back.   It is in the joy I feel when a performer pushes their limits and succeeds at something they never thought they could do.  It is in the excitement that comes with hearing music played and realizing that this unexpected grouping of musicians has become a band.  It’s in that thrilling moment when the lights are dark, the crowd is waiting and I know that with the next breath I’ll be stepping out on to the stage.  

I wonder sometimes what exactly made this so different from the other places in which I have sought passion or purpose.  I love to write and do so often, but if it’s late and I’m tired or frustrated I’ll eagerly put it off until another day so that I can climb beneath the covers and snooze.  Yet two nights ago, with little sleep the night before, I was up until nearly 1:00 in the morning, happily working out set lists. And is isn’t that I don’t have moments of exhaustion, frustration, or doubt.  Oh, I have them, I do; but they are just that, moments...and moments pass.  

Maybe it’s in the people who are a part of this.  When I step back and look at this creative and talented group of performers that have come together to make this idea come to life I feel awe and inspiration.  They dance, twirl and juggle their way across the stage bringing music and song to life and in response the audience laughs, stomps their feet, claps their hands and sometimes even arises to dance themselves.  I’ve had the pleasure of watching many of them grow in their art, step outside of their comfort zones and try things they never thought possible which has in turn, pushed me into new creative territory.  

It could be in the creative exchange.  The sharing and mutual development of ideas and the room for them to grow. Music that is written for a particular performer, a skit that is written to bring out another’s talent for physical comedy, space that is provided for a solitary dancer to tell the story in her heart, or a musician who finds himself brought from the behind the scenes to center stage and unexpectedly finds he is comfortable there.

We are still very small in so many ways, but we have come far.  What was once just a street show has made it’s way to the stage and beyond.  Though we are not very well known outside of our state, that is changing steadily. We are traveling to three other states for performances this year.  This is something that back in 2008, when this all began, I’m not sure would have even occurred to me as even being possible.

...I have this vision sometimes, many years in the future, where a group of us who were here now but much, much older, are standing at the back of a theater watching the house lights go down over a full house.  It won’t be the first time we’ve done this, watching a show from the audience side of the stage; we will have passed the performing torch on to others many years before but we are still here, still involved.  How could we ever stop really?. Yet, though we may not be on the stage, as the lights dim we still feel that familiar pause in our breath, that quiver in our stomachs that says, the show is about to begin.  The spot light will come up and solitary figure in a top hat will walk out, he or she will be younger than most of us are now, and begin to tell the audience of the journey they will be taken on that night...


You can be sure that I’m not doing this without a plan, and yes, I’ve big hopes for us, but in many ways I’ve no idea where this is going to end up.  I know that I am terribly lucky to be a part of it and I know that I’m on board for however long it lasts. And I do believe it is going somewhere great.  Where ever this passion brings me, and where ever we may end up, I’m so very, very grateful to be here now.  

Where oh where have I been?

"To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan, and not quite enough time.” - Leonard Bernstein

Where oh where has Spinster Jane gone?  Where oh where can she beeeee….???

Actually I’ve not gone anywhere; I’m still here, still living solo with three kitties and far fewer houseplants.  The houseplants all got some sort of fungus and one by one began to die off over the past month.  I did manage to save a few clippings and the pathos in the bathroom, which seems to have escaped the attack, continues to thrive.  I do miss them, but I admit to feeling some relief that their demise was something beyond my control since it is likely they would have died from neglect otherwise.

Spring has brought a whole new kind of busy into my life.  I am midway through the semester and I confess to not having been as attentive a student as I could have been.  If I continue this way I’m likely going to finish the semester with grades somewhere in the range of average.  If I do my usual second half of the semester push, I might end up with solid B’s.   Being as much a creature of habit as anyone, this is likely what will happen.  

I’m still juggling two jobs which, after the semester ends, will become easier to manage but right now it means that I’ve very few moments to call my own and what little time I do have left has been spent on finalizing the summer engagements for the performance troupe I manage.  Coordinating multiple events for a troupe of 17 people is not easy but I’m near to the point of having everything ready.   Of course this means that just as the organizational part settles down, the performing begins! 

I’ve also managed to somehow squeeze in a social life, though even I wonder some days just how I manage to get myself out of bed each morning.  I should be…okay, I AM exhausted, nearly mentally wiped out and pretty close to broke most days, but I can’t say that I’m unhappy. 

Single people have been in the news quite a bit over the past year and one of the common themes has been how full their lives tend to be.  I definitely fall into happily fulfilled category and while I like to imagine I have some sort of Get It All Done superpower, I don’t and so every once in a while something falls through the cracks for a bit, as has been the case with this blog. 

I am finally back.  It’s only been just over two weeks since I last posted but it feels like forever.  I’ve missed writing regularly and I hope that at least a few of you have missed me.