September 3, 2008

• Successfully Solitary

  We kicked off our "From the Dorm Room to the Altar" series yesterday. I'm pleased to introduce my first guest writer, Jess (Xanga name MlleRobillard ). She's a loquacious lady from Louisiana who combines cooking skills, history tales, and guest columnists into a very interesting Xanga site. Did I mention she also posts audio clips to go with the posts? Recently we've been glad and thankful to read that Hurricane Gustav apparently did no lasting damage to her house or irrepressible blogging pets. Please feel free to also meet this talented lady at her site after reading this article. And PLEASE RECOMMEND as well-- my guests took a lot of time and effort to write these articles!

  Being an old maid is like death by drowning, a really delightful sensation after you cease to struggle. (Edna Ferber)
   
  In
  the past ten years I have been a bridesmaid seven times. It's still an
  honor to be asked, and I've gotten used to wearing ugly dresses, but
  lately I've begun to wonder; are the rehearsals, dinners, showers and
  ceremonies practice for my own big day, or are they the closest I'll
  ever get to being a bride?

  In my teens and early twenties I was
  quite certain that marriage was something that would just happen, like
  the weather. I'd meet HIM. He'd propose, we'd marry, have babies, and
  there I'd be. People pair off. It's the expected course of things.

  It
  hasn't happened. I've been busy with family, my church, my career, and
  my writing and I didn't even notice it not happening until a few years
  ago when family and friends started applying pressure. That's
  delightful. The invitations ("We've also invited Joe's friend Eustace,
  he's the nicest guy. Please don't be put off by that little problem of
  his"), the well-meaning reassurances ("It's okay, dear. My cousin
  so-and-so didn't get married until she was almost your age") all leave
  me somewhat cold, but I understand that they are well meant.
   
  Quite
  simply, I haven't met a man with whom I'd care to spend my life. I have
  met wonderful and dear men, but so far, not the one. I seem to be well
  on my way to a glorious spinsterhood. I thought I'd share a few of my
  thoughts and a little advice about being a cool, desirable but not
  desperate single woman.

  Many of the terms used for an unmarried
  woman are derogatory, old maid, for instance, or my least favorite "a
  sex and the city girl". Many of these terms suggest a preference for
  mullets, comfortable shoes, and the Indigo Girls,
  if you know what I mean. Nothing against my lesbian sisters, but it is
  inappropriate to be categotized by people who can't be bothered to
  consider the idea that a woman might be enthusiastically heterosexual
  and just (for whatever reason) not married. I prefer the word
  "spinster".

  To be a successful spinster you should live alone,
  if possible, because you need to be able to be alone in comfort. The
  cliché about lonely and alone is very true; they are different and you
  need to decide which you are. You can have pets (cats, dogs, anything
  with fur), but no more than 2 of anything and 3 total. Anything more
  than that, you become the creepy animal lady and your house smells like
  a pet store. If you do get a dog, it should be a bigger dog – at least
  15 lbs. Nothing Paris Hilton would coo over should be allowed in your house. No lizards, snakes, or
  birds. Fish are okay, but they should be completely decorative and
  un-named; simply a hobby.

  You can't live in a scary
  neighborhood. No rundown apartment buildings with a convenient meth lab
  one floor down, nowhere that you are afraid to walk home at 2 a.m. Your
  furniture can be a little ratty with aspirations towards bohemian, but
  you need to throw out all furniture that your parents gave you. A couch
  from the Seventies is not an antique. At least some of the furniture
  should be pre-assembled, not the kind where you sit for four hours on
  the floor with a screw driver struggling to put bolt G into the bottom
  right hole on panel C while reading directions translated by an angry
  Swede into broken English.

  Being single does not mean giving
  up. You still want to be hot. Not hot like Pam Andersen hot or Angelina
  Jolie hot, but the hottest you you can be. Avoid plastic surgery, as it
  smacks of desperation; instead, invest in attractive, age-appropriate
  clothing, a great haircut (not the same one every time!) and awesome
  shoes. Shoes will always fit, even if you gain 10 lbs. or lose 15. They
  will make you feel sexy and cool. You don't need $500 Jimmy Choos. Just
  find some that are hot and that you feel good in. They don't need to be
  uncomfortable, just stylish. It does matter what you look like. It's
  great if you are all about inner beauty and wear men's polo shirts
  and no make-up. Good for you. Just know that no one else is about inner
  beauty. We ("we" being the whole world) are about outer beauty. If you
  have chosen to be single, you are already cool, and secure, and
  interesting enough on the inside. Pluck your eyebrows already, throw on
  a hot outfit and make sure they wonder what they might be missing.

  A
  few sacrifices may need to be made on your way to becoming a modern
  spinster. Assess your current group of friends. Have any of them ever
  uttered any version of the following phrases? "Don't worry, you're so
  pretty; you'll meet someone some day," or "I just don't know how you
  stay so strong. I would be lost without (insert boyfriend/husband's
  name here)." These people, usually women, are not your friends. They
  are spectators, watching your life, trying to make themselves feel
  better by comparison. Forget them.

  It's a good idea to make a
  few financial sacrifices and save a little money, in an account
  separate from your checking account and your debit card. Two months'
  salary is about right. You never know if an illness or our current
  economic woes will strike, and you want a cushion to land on if you
  fall.

  You probably can't afford to eat out every day (especially
  if you need to work on the aforementioned savings account). Oreos and
  ramen noodles are unwise to eat regularly, so here's my solution.
  Designate one or two days a month as "cooking days". Make several of
  your favorite meals, divide them into one-serving disposable containers
  (I save margarine tubs for this) and freeze them. A decent meal is only
  a few minutes in the microwave away.

  Faith matters. I know not
  everyone is a Christian, but it helps to believe in something other
  than yourself. Alone and awake at 4 a.m. on a Saturday can be a
  miserable experience otherwise. Try meditation, prayer, spiritual
  reading. Keep an open mind.

  Don't be afraid of change. Meet new
  people, dance with a stranger. Do something for charity, maybe
  volunteer one day a week. A surefire cure for loneliness or situational
  depression (as opposed to a clinical diagnosis of depression, which may
  need therapy or medication to control) is to help others.

  Remember
  to wear old underwear and not to shave your legs for first dates. There
  are precious few of us who can't be talked into something, sometime, by
  someone. Why risk your self esteem, your health, and your reputation?

  Be
  safe and remember: no one is going to take care of you but you, so
  don't sacrifice your freedom on any terms but your own. You don't need
  to become a different person to be worthy of love. If God has someone
  in mind for you, that person will be there in the right place and time.

  Thanks, Jess! Check back here for a new essay tomorrow--GP.

  • 3:25 pm
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