So, what were we talking about? Oh right. The different sisterhoods we've created or been sucked into in our lives. There are formal sisterhoods that you join. Like the sisterhood at my synagogue. It's a very serious, religious group of ladies over sixty who come together bi-monthly to take a bus trip to Atlantic City.
I imagine they pray heavily in both English and Hebrew every time they pull the arm on the slot machine.
It's not a written rule that you have to be over sixty to join the sisterhood, it's just kind of understood. And if you're forty, you have to act like you're sixty and if you're sixty you have to kvetch like you're eighty. I believe that is a written rule.
Then there's the single sisterhood. Fun when you're seventeen. Mildly amusing when you're twenty-five. As comforting as prickly heat when you're thirty-five. It's all a big game of kick ball to me.
At seventeen you and all of your girlfriends are standing together on the same side of the playing field waiting to be picked. (Sexist I know) At twenty-five, some have been picked and some are still in your group. At thirty-five, most of them are on the other side of the field and the cheese stands alone.
At seventeen you're in the "Sisterhood of the 'Oooh, I Hope He Calls""
At twenty-five, the "Sisterhood of the 'Is He EVER Going to Call?'"
At thirty-five, the "Sisterhood of the 'I Don't Give a Fk if he Never Calls."
Singlehood and Infertilitydom are quite similar I think.
Okay, you may choose to stay single... or childless. But, let's say neither is on your agenda.
So you're going to get married someday. And then you're twenty and you're not. And you're thirty, and you're not. And you're thirty-five and you're not.
So at first the swinging single life was fun. You had millions of single friends and you all got together to complain about dating and analyzed your dates soup to nuts. (Did I mean that to be a dirty little pun? Only my subconscious will ever know for sure.)
And back then, frankly, you weren't ready to get married. But now you are...and it ain't happening.
So you always wanted to have kids. At twenty you were using birth control so it wouldn't happen. Frankly, you weren't ready to get pregnant. But now you are...and it ain't happening.
Next thing you know, you're a charter albeit, extremely reluctant member of the infertile Sisterhood of the Traveling Hormones.
It's a very important sisterhood that meets every minute on a thousand online support forums and every other day in your doctors' waiting room. You sign in, sit down, and do the secret hand shake: Arm extended, waiting for a needle to be jabbed into it.
The membership card is very valuable: It connects you with the sisterhood who understands what you're going through without you ever uttering a word. Something you rarely find outside of the sisterhood.
So, hold onto that membership card with all of your might until one day soon when you can all hopefully come together and burn the fken things.
Listen, I gotta go. The weekend's coming and I have to start on my chocolate. I only eat it on the weekends. A friend of mine pointed out the other day that I treat chocolate like alcohol and then I pointed out that the problem is that she treats alcohol like chocolate.
I'll talk with ya again on Monday.