Eat, Pray, Love.

A great friend sent me Eat, Pray, Love last year with a message, “Everyone’s talking about this book. Have at it. It’s not my thing.” The chatter has started again with the release of the movie. Julia Roberts is one of my favorite actors so I will see the film despite the fact that the noise surrounding it irritates me like a bad rash. Even Starbucks had the motion picture soundtrack stacked at the register this week. I’m not usually negative so I’ve searched to find the reason for my feelings. Divorce sucks. I know that all too well. I’m not zero on the empathy scale. I believe Ms. Gilbert has expertly chronicled her journey and moved beyond her emotional challenges. I liked that. My irritation comes from reviewer comments such as “It’s a fast-paced spiritual memoir.”

Are you kidding me? A talented and capable woman, albeit bruised, travels to exotic places for a year with no financial stress and the time to find herself and overcome the grief of her divorce. She finishes that journey by falling in love with a kind, successful and well-to-do gentleman. I say, “Good for her.” But let’s stop there. Please. It’s a modern day fairytale that happened to come true. I would happily consult with Oprah or Dr. Phil to hear their views on my stance.

If I’m going to gush on fantasy, this MomSpit Mama will go with just one night in Carrie Bradshaw’s closet with Mr. Big. In the mean time, I will diligently start shopping for school supplies, just the right backpack and rejoice in the joy my children bring me every day. On behalf of divorced, single-parents everywhere I should write Wash, Spin, Dry.

p.s. I really did enjoy the book and was sad to hear of the passing of Richard who fondly nicknamed her “Groceries”. I loved that part of the journey.