Getting It, Or The Adventures of House November


I am watching a mini-war from my balcony. (Actually, I just caught a couple of missiles? rockets? flares? flashing bright red in the night sky accompanied by loud but distant booming – no I am not joking. It really is a mini-war.)

I have been wanting to post for days but I can never organize my thoughts enough to sit down and write coherently and in sequences other people can follow. Tonight however I’ve decided to forget about sequence and coherence and just write because I’ve missed blogging.

I’m going to be riding an emotional roller coaster visiting my parents for a week, starting the day before yesterday. There are a bunch of things going on at House November at the moment. My younger sister wants to get married and the circumstances are a little complicated. My father is turning 73 today and thinking about death. Someone in our extended family just died and he was at the funeral yesterday, which definitely doesn’t help his case at all. My mother is a sweetheart and I love her to pieces, but she is sometimes crazy and without malintent, manages to make already bad situations a lot worse.

Besides the political clashes that I can see evidence of from my balcony, there is a mini-war going on between my father and my sister in House November. My mother is like a guerrilla group, not part of the main conflict but having her own agenda that doesn’t quite fit in with the situation at hand. She tends to push tension levels higher. Sometimes she also fucks up the cease fire.

I am the quiet country in the middle trying to mind my own business. Quite often, I am a casualty in the cross fire. It is not always pleasant.

Yesterday, I was hit three times. 

1) I was told by extended family that I am fat. I am most definitely pudgy. Ok, maybe I’m a little round. I’ve been fat. I was fat at 19. Really fat. I’m nowhere near that fat today, I’ve made sure. There’s a whole complex set of issues that come with having been a girl that big. I didn’t exactly lose it all the healthy way. I made it all the way to thin. I gained some weight back during a month long war when my fiancé, and loads of other people, were forced to leave the country like fugitives. I lost some of that weight when I broke off my engagement. I gained and lost and gained weight while I rebounded from that disaster, with a Mr. Oaf, from which I learned that I happen to suck at rebounding.

I gained weight when I first started dating Nook. Now I’m losing it again, because having had to go on a low cholesterol diet, I have been choosing what I eat and how much of it I eat.

Here’s the thing: I love food. I love cooking it and I love ordering it at restaurants, I love the way food looks, smells, and tastes and I love fucking eating it. I am going to eat. I do not need to be told that I am fat, or not to get fat so that someday Prince Charming will pick my wafer thin waist out of a crowd. If you have a wafer thin waist then yay for you. You get to eat more. Of that, I am jealous.

First of all, I have Nook. That’s pretty damn near close to Prince Charming. Second, if Prince Charming’s criteria for choosing a woman revolves around waist size, then fuck him. There will be no super slim pickings over here.

I will lose weight until I feel comfortable and my test results come back normal. Then I’m going to bake (or buy) myself the biggest, richest, most buttery cake ever and eat it straight out of the box while sitting in my inflatable kiddie pool. Pretty.

2) During an argument with my sister concerning the November family inheritance, my mother told her that I will probably never get married or bear heirs.

I want to get married and maybe bear one heir. Actually, my va-jay-jay isn’t too sure about heirs. It shudders at the thought of insurmountable pain. All that Kegel muscle training urged upon me by many, many women’s magazines gone to waste. No, it definitely does not want to bear heirs today. Or next week. Or in a month. Maybe in a couple of years, when I’m focused and going in one direction rather than in twenty different ones. BUT NOT NEVER MOM!

3) When I finally asked my father why he keeps pushing this marriage thing with me he said, “I want to hold just one of your kids before I die.” This really tore me up inside. With all that’s going on at work and in the family right now, this is the last thing that he needs to be worrying about. But he’s worrying. And I feel terrible about it.

After being told that I was likely going to be fat, alone, and childless forever my spirits were dampened a little. Ok. A lot. And yes they didn’t mean it, but you can’t help how you feel can you? So I typed “30 and umarried” (I often do this when something makes me sad) into Google hoping to read something that might make me feel better and ended up with this article. I went from feeling miserable to being on the verge of tears. My brain was fogged by my emotions, but then I read the comments and the “About” page and I finally got it!

For those of you who don’t have the time to check it out, here’s a little tidbit. Men should be equally insulted.

“There is one group of men out there who are more likely to look favorably on the idea of a more mature woman with a career, and possibly having a kid or two with her. Given the financial, emotional and practical realities of divorce and custody issues, divorced fathers are a relatively easy catch for a woman who is past her prime mating and marriage years.”

“Although single mothers are almost universally made out to be victims in mainstream culture, these days the opposite is generally the truth — they have victimized some man in their life with no regard for him or even the children she had with him. Men rarely do that, and they are prevented from doing so by the law in any event, so a single father is not much of a risk in that regard.”

It’s a site for bitter men. There are similar ones for bitter women. It makes about as much sense as the idea of “legitimate” and “illegitimate” rape that’s all over the news today. I can’t even bring myself to quote some of the comments I read at the end.

I am grateful for the article and the people who commented because I scoffed myself right out of my misery.

I have given myself a period of one month to weigh my options before submitting my resignation from my post as User of No Brain Cells at Dead-End Job Ltd. One of the more recent options that have surfaced involves starting a new Masters program. That is something I may decide to do, but I am still uncertain. There is only one thing on my agenda that I am completely sure of right now.

Come November, NaNoWriMo will be upon us. (Yes, I was being cute. Also, get it?) I entered last year but I never managed to finish, the same way I signed up for this blog almost two years ago in preparation for NaNoWriMo but never wrote a word.

I’m glad that I finally started posting here and although I don’t know where it’s going, I will keep at it. I also plan to complete my 50,000 words. Then I am going to proofread and edit. I will ask Nook proofread and edit. I will ask anyone who has the time for and is willing to read it, to proofread and edit. Then I will edit again.

Come November, I will also turn 30. (Okay, that is the last time I will ever do that, I promise.) Who knows? Maybe a fat, childless, husbandless, “old” woman like me could get lucky at 30.

6 thoughts on “Getting It, Or The Adventures of House November

  1. Please do yourself a couple favors and . .

    1) stop reading women-hating blogs written by bitter men he only wants to make you feel worse than he does so he knows someone feels worse than him.

    2) stop listening to jealous family members. How do I know they are jealous without ever meeting them or even talking to them on the phone? Because there is no other reason anyone would say anything like that, unless (see #1).

    3) stop letting other people make you feel guilty about not running your life like they want you to. Your dad did his job. He raised you into an adult who takes care of herself, is creative, and organizational (hey you finished that cleanup in less than a day I think), and loving to a Nook and at least one cat. Now your life is YOURS! He thinks he is done, but he’s still breathing, so he should worry about living his own life and stop trying to run yours.

    Keep writing! That’s your baby right now. I don’t know, but I’ve been told writing a book is just like giving birth — complete with labor pains and tearful parenting moments.

    Wow. That’s more advice than I give most people who are close to me! It took two brownies to get through it . . :-)

    • Brownies. Excellent stuff!

      I try to do all of the above…well actually, I don’t do usually do #1, I just happened on that site by chance and I took it seriously until I realized what it was exactly but I don’t go looking for those awful sites.

      As for #2 and #3, I do know these things and most days I keep them in mind. Thank you for your vote of confidence – it’s just that it can get difficult to stay positive and believe in yourself with all these judgments floating about – like if Bob the Neighbor stood outside your fence and talked crap about your lawn to passers by but you could hear him.

      Thank you for the advice, Jean. It is very kind of you to have taken the time out to write it especially seeing as how you don’t give that much advice to people close to you.

      I will come back to look on it every time someone says something shitty to me this week. Oh, Nook read and loved your comment, he thinks it’s some pretty sound advice too :)

  2. Thoroughly enjoyed the blog post—although I am waaaay older than you, I have struggled my entire life with my weight and food obsession. I have been skinny, fat, and everything in–between. I also come from a highly critical family that I believe at times was embarrassed by my weight. It was (and still is) an albatross for me, but at my age I can’t concern myself so much about some chubbiness–it’s mainly about getting regular exercise, and eating better, which I do. One of the MAIN things that helped me through all this was my writing—-I kept a journal ever since I was about 13 and never stopped writing about my feelings. Now I blog, but I see things differently since I am on the other side of “over the hill”. It has taken me this long to realize that life is too short to take so seriously. My older sister was obese and had an eating disorder. She died 3 years ago at the age of 56 because she no longer cared about herself. She was a brilliant artist but she quit painting, and she lost her “bliss.” Don’t lose your bliss–focus on your writing for now and don’t worry about the other stuff–it will all fall into place when the time is right. And if you feel like eating a little something sweet at the end of the day, that’s OK too. Life is too short to skip dessert!

    • It’s funny – when I got really fat I didn’t even notice it was happening. And then when I made it to thin I didn’t notice that either. In the mirror I saw myself the same way. I walked into a store one day and asked for size 20 and the sales girl thought I was insane. That’s the first time I realized how much weight I had lost.

      Now I’m much more aware and I really am trying to take care of myself – and okay I have quite a few vices but I try not to indulge in them too much. I’m so sorry to hear about your sister…my mother is 57 – that is such a young age to leave the world.

      Also, dessert is my favorite meal of the day :)

  3. Hey, good to see you back, my friend. I missed you. You’re right when you say that if Prince Charming is fixated on waist size, fuck him. Absolutely. If that’s the case, then he’s only wearing a Prince Charming mask, anyway. The real thing would not care one jot about whether the packaging was better than the real gift – what’s inside.

    Reading the quotes from that site you mentioned actually made me feel sick. As a divorced father who now feels younger than ever at 46, I take great exception to the vile assumption they make here. Not all divorced fathers are easy pickings. Hell, some of us now have higher standards than ever before. Some of us are beginning to realise that we’re not the booby prize in life, that we have way more to offer than we have ever been allowed to express.

    A childless woman is not an “easy target”. She is a woman, and comes with all of the complexities and rewards that any worthwhile woman does, regardless of whether she’s had children or not. In a world when so many people spit children out like they’re fashion accessories, I’ll be upfront here and say that I *admire* the fact that you haven’t yet. It means you’re waiting until the time is right to be the best mother you can be. Don’t ever sell yourself short just because you haven’t had kids.

    Finally, when you sit in that pool and eat that cake, I’ll raise a toast to you. In fact, I want a photo of that cake. I want a photo of the slice that would be mine, and then I want you to enjoy it *for* me, my friend. :-)

    • Hey there Frank! I know, I keep going MIA. You’ve done a little bit of that yourself I see. I hope you’re doing alright.

      I’ve come to the conclusion that the site is just dumb. It’s just a site where men say horrid stuff about women and each other. I totally agree that divorced fathers are likely to have much higher standards. The site in general just paints a picture of women and men as being these desperate individuals with nothing else going on in their lives. It’s very generic and I have a suspicion that in none of the issues they discuss, do they write about men and women as human beings. I’m in no position to judge anyone’s writing but really, it’s a whole bunch of BS.

      On another note, I do want to be a good mother. I am always afraid that I won’t be because of all my hangups, but Nook reassures me that I would be. Thank you for your vote of confidence.

      The photo and cake request will be a dedicated post. :D Watch for it!

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