To: Heather
From: Sister
Subject: A woman of seven and twenty…
I am reading Sense and Sensibility today. Marianne said this:
“A woman of seven and twenty can never hope to feel or inspire affection again, and if her home be uncomfortable, or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might bring herself to submit to the offices of a nurse, for the sake of the provision and security of a wife.”
So there you have it. It is too late for you. You may as well become a nurse.
I am sorry to have to tell you this.
end message
Oh god. I knew it. I knew there was a reason I wasn’t dreading the big three-oh. It’s because all hope is really lost by twenty-seven!
Considering the fact that my stint in the medical profession lasted only until I saw my first GSW (gun shot wound, for you laypeople) and I face planted in the emergency room, even the nursing thing isn’t going to give my life some. But never fear. All is not lost. Things are not quite so limited as they used to be and there are plenty more useful professions an old maid like myself can pursue.
I’ve started compiling a list.
Schoolmarm. Not really a stretch from my current profession. And recently, within the span of twenty-four hours, both my friend, Matt and this guy were prescient enough to saddle me with this label. Both instances also resulted in dinner/drinks. Pity date/charity case? Maybe. But I’m OLD and dried up! Pride is not a luxury a twenty-seven year old spinster can afford!
Missionary. Who needs monogamy when you can have the father, son and holy ghost? Mother Theresa, you little minx.
Crazy Cat Lady. Who has more mystery than the possibly dangerous, certainly off her rocker bat who lives in the big corner house and hands out kittens at Halloween, eeking out a meager income on blog ads? And if you can’t have sex appeal, you may as well have mystery (and catch scratch fever). Okay, yeah. I admit that one’s kind of a stretch, but it beats inserting catheters any day.
I know, I know. Spinsterhood never sounded so good, right?
Also? That bit about not inspiring affection? Begging Ms. Austen’s pardon, but even at the advanced age of twenty-seven, my breasts are still quite perky, thank you very much.
And if its not affection they inspire… well, then it’s something else just as good.
But wasn’t she talking about Elinor? If not, Elinor was about that age. And she ended up with cute, sweet Edward.
Okay. Maybe I like Jane Austen.
Gosh, how can you say that a life of spinsterhood beats putting in catheters… just read my post (http://dustitwind.blogspot.com/2006/03/when-st-hits-fan.html)
to see what you are missing!! lol
oh gosh… thank goodness i still have a year more to go before i hit that dreaded twenty and seven. now i just have to step it up… who wants to be the crazy cat lady, or in my case more likely the dodgy dog lady…
Hmm, I have a different idea. You can be a “freak decoy.” Girls can hire you to go with them to bars and clubs and sit in a corner by yourself. You draw all the freaks (Let’s take a walk) to your corner, while your employers chill in peace on the other side of the room. I hear they pay handsomely for this, and you do have some experience to put on your resume. Just don’t think I’m going with you.
Aw, chill, willya? Parts don’t start falling off until you’re, like, 32, so you’ve got plenty of time.
I got married at 27, so
to Jane Austen.
I’m about to be 27. Lord, help me.
You, on the other hand, are obviously going to be just fine.
Something just as good as affection? I think not! lol.
Best wishes to you and your perky breasts.
Here’s my rule, I find it makkes me feel slightly better…
Old is officially 10 years older than you are at the minute.
However, boyfriend is 9 and a bit years older than me. Hmmmm, might have to raise that bar a little!
You forgot Nun and Librarian. With six months to go until I hit seven and twenty, I still have this mad hope that my Mr. Darcy will come along some day (and that I won’t have forgotten what to do when he does).
Librarian! That’s a good one, Devon. See, the sexy librarian is like, way up there on the male fantasy list (somewhere next to schoolgirl, I think). Unbeatable!
And Fisch: Fine. Don’t you worry, mister. I can always find an obliging shin to kick.
Ah! Today IS my 27th birthday. What wonderful timing.
PS, I love the blog.
Heather…You must have been reading my mind. I am twenty seven and am going through a quarter life crisis! It took me almost all of my twenties just to even kind of figure out what I want to do with my life. It doesn’t help that I have a 19 year old sister who THINKS she’s got it all figured out. I am getting ready to start nursing school, however I can’t seem to let go of my dream of being a professional photographer, which I have pushed way back on the shelf. Everyone tells me I can’t make a steady income at it, but if it’s so wrong, why can’t I forget about it?
Best of Luck to you in finding your dream career.
You know what Mark Twain said about Ms. Austen? That her writing made him want to dig up her body and beat her skull with her own shin bone. I’m not kidding. You shouldn’t take her seriously–I’m fairly sure her sole purpose in life was to foster insecurity among women and future disagreements between the sexes. Anyway, it’s not like she wild luck with the gentleman…
Actually, I think she was had some witty things to say and I am a sucker for her books. But I like Mark Twain, too. So I guess I just couldn’t go drinking with them at the same time. Bad things would happen.
hey now, Chris, don’t dis miss austen! she had a lot of good (and sarcastic) commentary about the social mores of her time, and much of that STILL holds true today. as for you, fish, just remember that in the end Anne (the character referred to in the passage) does get the guy. though it probably helps to have perky breasts. love your blog.
Glad to know I’m past all hope at 30 ; )
Happy Birthday! I’m about to be 27 as well, and I can’t imagine it’s as bad as Ms. Austen describes. Hope your birthday is tons of fun!
“Old is officially 10 years older than you are at the minute” – AMEN to that!!
My cousin (who will be 45 this year) is still a hottie, according to almost anyone who’s ever met her, and before I turned 40, she told me that it’s the most freeing age because you actually know who you are and have the experience to act like it with impunity.
Fishie, love, you are ahead of your generation on some of that, but just think how awesome you will be at 40!!! And for everyone else in that age-range, don’t get hung up on the number. All of us – in our heads – are about the same age anyway. The rest is just packaging. Just take the best care you can of the packaging, but enjoy the time you have, whatever your age.
(Yoda is leaving now….
)
pfff perky breasts are WAY overrated. I say we just go with the flow and buy stock in Wonder Bra!
Austen doesn’t mention it, but “Fallen Woman” is also an option for women of a certain age. I think you should just embrace the sin and go for it.
Hmmm, I think we should rethink the math on this one. In the early 1800s, when this book was written (1811) the life expectancy for a person was in their 40s. So, now it is about 77… someone who is better at math than I am should figure out the age that we should lose hope…however, when we do find out that age I am sticking with 10 years older than you are at this minute. That is much better.
For the record: It’s not my birthday. I’m well into 27 and WAY past hope!
Such a witty piece, but I think you submitted this just so you could use the word “marm”. Two other things: 1. I’m not sure what period J Austen wrote in, but in that period weren’t people dying around 50 then, So the J Austen 27 is actually the equivalent of 55 today. 2. You don’t have to be single to be a crazy cat lady…ala my wife, I have to take her purse from her when we go into PetCo, so she is not able to adopt anoter cat.
30 is the new 20, Fish, that makes you 17, which in J Austen’s world is probably the minimum age for marriage, so you’re actually right on schedule.
No no no to spinsterhood! We’ve pushed everything back by now, since the days of Jane–and to think even before then, a woman’s life was supposedly over at 18 or if she was deflowered, whatever came first. We’ve made strides since then–and you’ll be great!
Spinster!!! Hehehehe. That’s an almost forgotten word. Most people will think it’s a nickname for Ann Coulter
that, from your sister? wow.
it could be worse…check out my last post to see what wicked things supermarket checkout people say to me.
Is there a way in which you could prove this supposed “perkiness?”
You might want to add seer/witch to the list. Could be some good money in Tarot readings, just watch out for Jesuits bearing torches.
Well, I don’t like cats so that option is out. I guess I have a year to get hitched or else I’ll be falling back on that bio degree as a nurse, eh?
I’m happily past 27 by almost two years — and I highly enjoy being the crazy cat lady.
But you’re right, the librarian thing really does “inspire” many men….
At 30, I guess I’m well past my prime then. Eh, I’ll take being a crazy cat lady anyday over the constant wailing and responsibility of another human being for 18 years.
Oh my God – I attended middle school and high school with “this guy”.
In fact I attended his Bar Mitzvah and occasionaly babysat his little brother.
Small small world.
Heh. As a librarian, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “You’re really a librarian? Wow! That’s hot!” I generally just tell them to lay off the porn.
Now if the guy is cute, that’s a whole different story…
Indeed, I turned 27 a month ago. When I was filling out the “Over the Hill – All Hope is Lost” form that they send you on your 27th birthday, I filled in the bubble for “Crazy Cat Lady”. “Schoolmarm” just didn’t do it for me. Something about the word “marm” bothers me.
Cheers to all you 27 year olds out there!
I believe that “crazy cat lady” is more of state or condition than an profession as you can be a crazy cat lady and still function as the other two.
At twenty and NINE (WAY past hope!), I, too, became resigned to the fact that I would become a spinster…the Crazy Cat Lady variety. Not that I was particularly pleased with that option, but, hey, what are you going to do? So, I immediately got to planning my days of schlepping around the house, wearing a tattered bathrobe, filling myriad bowls with Meow Mix, or doing whatever it is that being a Crazy Cat Lady entails. The cautionary tale? Right, roughly 15 minutes (no joke!) after embracing the reality of my impending spinsterhood, my (now) husband walked into my life…and we were married one year later. And JUST when I was starting to get really excited about my Crazy Cat Lady schtick…Sheesh!
I’m 27, and apparently am avoiding certain doom with a wedding this summer, but I used to have a pact with a friend of mine that if neither of us were married by the time we were 40 (which when you’re 20 seems ancient) we would move in together and become crazy cat ladies together. We also figured we’d go on a few dates a year but other than that, it’d be us and the cats.
Fun facts about this quote:
This wasn’t Jane Austen speaking, it was Marianne. She wasn’t talking about Elinor or Anne. Anne was in Persuasion and Elinor was only 19. She was talking about the age of a woman who would actually be suited to Colonel Brandon. This was at the beginning when she thought he was old and infirm because he was in his 30′s and she was only 17. So it wasn’t Jane Austen’s opinion. She was showing how ridiculous Marianne was. But 2 years later, she marries Brandon anyway. So much for being infirm.
I only know this because I am a spinster with nothing better to do but read Austen all day.
Great blog!
Well, I was slightly worried there, as some women get, at the fact I ended a relationship recently, setting me far from marriage by 27, which isn’t too far off.
Then I got to those ‘smart’ comments about the time period and yada yada. Makes sense to me. We’ve still got a good 10 years till ‘marm’ or ‘nun’, and then we’ll go with the 10 years older idea.
Win win all around!
And Im definitely dogdy dog lady.
a woman’s life BEGINS at thirty – ESPECIALLY so if she’s single!
worried about spinsterhood?? honey! the freedom of CHOICE you have when unfettered by spouse or spawn makes the stereotypes of marm/maid just fall to the wayside!
viva la single woman!
Um, I was pretty sure it was obvious that I was being facetious. Guess not.
As a (gasp) 27 year old (student) nurse, I’m blowing raspberries your way. It’s nice to be informed that my life is over and my vocation is lame. ; ) Oh well, I’ll just content myself with imagining inserting large bore IV catheters into my ex-fiance’s puny little veins. There….I feel better now. (totally kidding, I give great shots)
Can we please NOT forget about Emma’s darling Miss Taylor who is probably well into her 30′s when she finds TRUE LOVE with Mr. Weston??????
28, single, schoolmarm.
Oh, Dear Fish, whence I too pass that threshold onto the prarie of 27 in a wee mere 3 months, I will look to you in all of your schoolmarm-nursey wisdom to ease the transition my saggy bosom and slipping sanity will surely happen upon. Alas, alas, my days here too are fading….*sigh*
Oh, I like the “10 years” thing, having just turned 59 and being married to a MUCH younger man… But don’t worry overmuch about the spinster thing…five years ago I was resigned to being an “old widderwoman” for the rest of my days and here I am…living in paradise, married 2.5 years to a gorgeous younger man! Ladies, there is ALWAYS hope!
Happy Birthday Fish…but HELLOOOOO you are hardly over the hill, Missy…..from 20 years older than you and 47 years YOUNG.
I guess it’s good that I became the schoolmarm…at 37 & single I must REALLY be a spinster! (NOT!) Life in the 30s is WAY cooler than life in the 20s…I love who I am and what I do and how I do it so much more every year. Heck, I’m even looking forward to 40! 27? Youngun’!
I am nine and thirty, and let me tell you, enjoy the perkiness while you can. As a matter of fact, let as many people as you can enjoy the perkiness with you.
Fish — Am 31 and get the trauma of ‘female expiration date’. (Much like a carton of eggs.)
It’s kind of fun >> a weight lifted off our slowly-becoming-concave shoulders.
I say HURRAH! re the expiration date…
Well.
Maybe not.
I shake my fist and say ‘I’VE GOT AT LEAST 12 MORE GOOD MONTHS!’
xo
m
I’m 33, have a cat (just one) and have a boyfriend. I don’t think Jane Austen anticipated multi-year modern relationships. But I do love her!!
Oh, thank you, SOOOOOO much encouragement to those of us who are, um, thirty-something and still single. Kill me now.
You know this post really began to upset me. Yes, I am a male. I know social norms in the 1800s were different for men, but still the idea of aging has been on my mind a lot recently. I am a neurotic, single male who will be 30 in just over a month. What a bunch of bullocks. I guess no matter the gender we’re all affected by the march of time. I then thought perhaps I should just slip straight into mid-life crisis mode and go out and buy a Corvette and a Harley. Then . . . well then my mind went blank by the time I got to the end of your post. What was I saying? Perky boobs should cheer everyone up and wash away the worries.
Leave it to a sister to remind you of such circumstances. I take it she is your YOUNGER sister?
Ok, my question, since no one seemed to address it: What was the deal with the GSW? Were you actually studying nursing/working at the hospital? Because aside from that, your options are: A) you or someone you know was in the ER for something else or B) you shot the person and followed them to the ER to see if they really died.
Hey, being a librarian isn’t that bad… Perhaps more interestingly, in England the marriage certificates offer the option of either ‘Spinster’, ‘Divorcee’ or ‘Widow’, so really everyone is a spinster, including the 17 year olds. Apparently in some parts of the country the only options are ‘Widow’ and ‘Virgin’. Makes you think, doesn’t it?
Whattup Grandma!
I think it might be a bad sign that I already fear being a cat lady and I’m only 21.
Love the blog.
Best advice ever given to me: Don’t give up.
Which means you must
1. Have a good idea of what you’re getting yourself into BEFOREhand
AND
2. Stick with it
It seems pretty obvious to me that nurses would have to deal with unpleasant wounds at some point in their profession.
Next time, think about whether you can deal with the downs that are characteristic to a profession, and prevent the heartbreak of leaving it in the future (same goes for men).
Plus, if 60 is the new 50, then 27 is the new 17.
Wait… are you talking about my stint in the ER? I was 17. You don’t stick with anything at 17.
I’m 28. Spinster-hood has little to do with age. One of my distant cousins didn’t marry until her late forties. On the other hand, reality hit me around 22. Spinster-hood has proved pretty much inevitable.
Please, any one in their 20s is not a
spinster. Just wait until you hit 30!
I got married at 29. I was told by a Pastor once that I better get married soon or I’ll be a Spinster too. I guess I showed him because he wasn’t the one that married us.
In Jane Austin’s time a girl was generally married by 17 or 18. Times are much different now.
YOU OLD!!!
That goddamn sun that rapes the screen everytime I come to read your blog is just too annoying. Count me out.
Rapes? Really? A little bit dramatic for an advertisement, don’t you think?
You’re one of those theater arts majors, aren’t you?
hi there – i just goggled myself for a little experiment and found this – http://thisfish.ivillage.com/love/archives/2004/05/cobblers_haberd.html – it’s you. but i didn’t know it was me.
oh so long ago.
blamelesslives.blogspot.com is me.
Dzu!
My god. So long ago, indeed! How’s tricks?
We modern women have many new pathetic alternatives.
Lonely business woman: Wearing a designer business suit, drinking cosmos at a bar, by herself. Avoiding returning to a recently purchased
gorgeous upper west side condo. Condo is cold, and the only thing in the fridge is bottled water and wine, in case someone comes over.
Gym Fiend: Spends her evenings on the stairmaster at the local gym. Her weekends at the spa having a bikini line waxed that no one will ever see.
But things these women don’t have that you do, are friends and a community that adore you.
I’m a woman of two and thirty and I wouldn’t trade the rich and adventurous life of being single. At least not yet.
At 27 I was not ready to be married even though an offer was on the table (and, from a wonderful man). Although I was capable of being a woman, I was still so much a girl. Fast forward 13 years. I had accomplished becoming more of a woman and . . . as fate, providence or the right hand of God would have it, the man who had made me the offer of marriage 13 years earlier was still as much in love with me as I was with him. We were married this past December. You never know what life has in store for you!
Other things you can now aspire to:
Ball-busting corporate executive…
School crossing guard…
Homewrecker…
Lesbian…
Crazy Aunt Fishie…
Obesely Bed-ridden Springer guest…
Biddy…
27 is not old! I just got married and I am 28 and glad that I waited. When the right man comes along it is worth the wait, rather than ending up with a loser!
at 29, been engaged twice (never made it down that aisle) and living alone the past two years, i have come to realize that i prefer the autonomy i can have without “spouse or spawn” (to quote another commenter). ah, the solitude i shall miss the most when i move in with my 35-going-on-17 sister! i am already the crazy cat lady and i LOVE it! now, if someone could just explain that to my boyfriend……
The crazy cat lady thing is not as bad as you might think. Every time I tell someone who’s been asking me why I’m not married that my lifelong dream is to chase kids from my yard with a rolling pin while wearing a pink robe and bunny slippers, it shuts them right up. They may think I belong in an institution but at least they stop asking about the non-existent dating life.
Don’t worry too much about being 27. Where I come from, you’d hit old maidhood by the time you were 21. I’ve been there for 4 years now and haven’t sewn rocks into my skirt quite yet.
Now if only I weren’t allergic to cats…
Wow, that’s hilariously superb, and so appropriate for where I am right now! Thanks, Fish!
Oh, you’ve a long ways to go. Anne Elliott, of Perseverance, was twenty-nine, and “her looks completely gone” and still she ended up with dashing Captain Wentworth.
These days, when I look at twenty-seven from my utterly withered thirty-six years, I think that’s way too young to get married.
Jesus. Im 17 and working to pass a few exams and I’ve just discovered that in 10 years (not so many when you think about it) my life will, effectively, be over. I have to say, I’m glad that I found out now, rather than waiting to find out what all the fuss was about, only to find that that was actually it. Wow. You see, this is why my mother shouldnt let me surf the net alone…