(Start with "Monday" if you can. We're in the thick of a huge holiday bash here. We're bashing our relatives. We're bashing our friends...b'dum bum. ) So, what were we talking about? Oh right. When our friends come up with the fab idea of having their big events, like weddings, during the holidays. There's an optimist for you. Obviously they're not taking into account divorce statistics or they wouldn't get married on Christmas and set themselves up for future "I'm so depressed", "How could I have been so wrong?" "I want to shoot myself" Christmases.
These holiday events, of course, can be a good thing for us, the infertile guest. The traveling nuisance, the financial nuisance, the rearranging your schedule nuisance. You're so wrapped up in the sheer inconvenience of it all, it could be a nice distraction. (And a wonderful excuse to relatives: "I'd love to come to your house for Christmas and watch your eight kids in their matching red sweaters sing along to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir CD again this year...I just have this wedding...Aw. I wish I could. I really wish I could. But I can't. See ya.")
As for holiday parties in friends' houses- I've never fit into one yet. First I was single. So everyone felt sorry for me because I couldn't snag a loser like they did. So people would ask: "Who'd you come with? ...oh right."
Then I was married and people would huddle together and talk about their kids and some yutz would ask us: "You still don't have kids do you? Why not? What are you guys waiting for?"
Of course I wanted to say: "I'm waiting for you to stop talking. Do you think you can manage that?"
I think a big contributor to my terrible time at these parties was that I don't drink. I'm sure if I could have stuck my head into the punch bowl and stayed there blowing bubbles all evening, the parties would have really been fun. I could have shown up equipped with little boats and duckies and made a night of it.
And yet I preferred to be around the people who knew nothing about my infertility and asked impertinent questions because they didn't know any better, than my jerky friends who knew my deal.
My friends tip-toed around all things remotely fertility-related. They were all so self-conscious about saying something dumb in front of me that they couldn't help it. It would always end up turning into the "oh crap" party.
"Hungry Lori? I made some deviled... oh crap."
"Did you get that toothpaste coupon I emailed you? It's a great deal: For three dollars you get two giant tu...oh crap."
"You're not going on vacation with that guy Steve are you? I wouldn't go anywhere with him period!... Oh crap."
"Let me just run up and check on the wash. Last I looked it was in the spin...Oh crap."
"I just read such an interesting article about Darwin's principles of ovulation...Oh crap."
So, for the whole night, for really no good reason, they'd be so nervous they'd all be walking around on... oh crap.
Listen I gotta go. They're lighting the town Christmas tree tonight. It's really a big deal here. Not quite the one in Rockefeller Center though. I tower over it. And I really shouldn't. If you tower over the town Christmas tree and you're 5'2", there's a problem.
I'll talk with ya again on Monday.