Monday, October 15, 2012

You're a Chicken and I'm Diane Keaton

Greetings, citizens of Blog world!

Forgive me in advance for any misspellings in this post, my p is sticking (ahhh, source of all my woes - my pee sticks and my p sticking).

Should you only be in the mood for a low dose of Stork today, please ignore this post entirely and may I draw your attention here.  A week from today, there is going to be a video challenge. Should you want to join in on the fun - and you should, we're going to collectively take a little bit of shame out of all this by coming out of the closet - please refer to that post and join.  And if you are super famous and/or your face is full of boils, you may participate in said challenge using only your voice (and I promise - when drawing my mental picture of you, I'll give you really, really good boobs).

If you are not down for either, I call chicken, m'lady.  Ironically, participating in a video challenge will not make me want to find the real you - but if you don't participate, I will become a blood hound, hunt down your chicken ass and call you in the middle of the night making bok-bok noises.

My jaw has blown out yet again (minds out of the gutter, ladies, I have TMJ - apparently I am delightful when awake and horribly angry when I sleep, video related threats aside) and I seem to have accidentally thrown out my perfectly good ambien when I was getting rid of old prescriptions.  (Which proves the old adage, messiness is godliness and cleanliness is the devil's playground).

Monday has been quite manly, indeed.  I must have had some sort of car dream during one of my hostile sleeps, because I became convinced this weekend that Towanda the old reliable Honda was on death's door.  She... hiccups.  I'll be sitting at a light and she kind of shakes for a minute before getting her shit back together.

Cut to me, this morning, sans functioning jaw, doing an interpretive dance in front of a large group of manly mechanics to try and explain what she was doing.  After some glazed stares, a lovely man in coveralls won the round of charades and sadly I was without a cookie or even an ambien to reward him.

So me, Towanda, and her new sparky spark plugs are off to try and convince a pharmacist that I am not a drug addict, but a silly insomniac woman who cleans and sleeps in furious spurts.  My charm will be more difficult to get across without the ability to speak, so after many years it seems my modern dance classes will finally come in some practical handy.

Today I kill two birds with one stone.  Today's manly Monday fact will be about my gay husband, Mr. T, and also covers one of my answers to an October writing prompt. Both involve the queen of all things awesome, Diane Fucking Keaton (yes, fucking is her middle name.... scientific fact).


The question is, what is the greatest compliment I ever received.

So I'm not sure if it's the greatest compliment I have ever received, but it was pretty fucking great and infertility related.

A few months ago the gay husband, Mr. T, was sick and so we were watching movies and laying around like walruses.  I had never heard anything about The Family Stone, but it was one of his comfort movies and he was the one that was sick.

Anyhoo.

Diane Keaton in the movie is.. Diane Keaton.  She's the matriarch, she is pretty funny, very blunt and very mellow.  (Again, Diane Fucking Keaton, ladies and gentleman).

There is one scene where they're having a big family dinner, and a new girlfriend accidentally says something insulting about Diane's deaf and gay son.  While the new girlfriend is stumbling to try to undo it, and the whole family is visibly uncomfortable, Diane's character is quiet for a moment, ignoring everyone else entirely.  She then throws her fork at the insulted son who is looking down, embarrassed, and then says "Hey!  Hey you.  I love you and you are more normal than any asshole sitting at this table".

We're watching this, and Mr. T turns to me and says, "I wanted you to watch this because this is exactly the kind of Mom I imagine you're going to be".

In the moment I don't make a big deal of it (I probably give him my signature compliment response, a tidy little boob shimmy), and I don't even know if he remembers saying such a thing in his drug-fueled sickly state... but rare is the moment where someone of their own accord turns to someone like me and makes a statement like that.  Having someone tell me specifically what kind of Mom I would be was magical, because I have a hard time imagining it myself sometimes. Not to mention in this instance he was comparing me to an awesome Mom, a Diane Keaton Mom.

When all this infertility nonsense makes me cold, I pull that gem out of the back of my head and it warms me right back up again.

And honestly, ladies, I have very little usable advice in the how-to-handle-infertility department (other than to laugh as much as possible, and to buy cheap panties after someone utters the dreaded words 'progesterone suppositories').  My one rare gem-o-the-day is that if at all possible, you should run out and get yourself a gay husband in addition to your straight one, because they can be disarmingly wonderful and absolutely invaluable, even to a cold-hearted name caller (chicken!  yes you - the one underestimating her bravery) like me.

Oh, and get the panties for $5 a pack at target - get the gay husband someplace where they charge you $50 for one pair of brightly colored boy panties. They are very different shopping trips.




30 comments:

  1. I so want a gay husband...I just tell my husband he has to be both and well, that doesn't go over too well...see my manly post for the day.....

    BTW, I love what Mr T said to you...as you will be a wonderful fantabulous mom.....

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    1. Every man secretly channels his inner gay via a girly drink!

      And thank you, lovely. ;)

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  2. Yeah. I can see you being that kind of mom. Absolutely.

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    1. Thank you, darling - I shimmy in your general direction. ;)

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  3. Love the gay husbands...I have quite a few under my belt. I can totally see you being that kind of mom, or that kind of person. I could see you doing that for your friends as well. I'm excited for not being called a chicken because as I will be looking pretty hellacious laying up in the bed and all!!

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    1. Thank you, lovely. ;) Consider yourself free of a midnight 'bok-bok' call!

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  4. Awwww...I love this post! You are going to be a kick butt mom! Totally!!

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  5. You have made me yearn for a gay husband. Just watched Annie Hall a couple of weekends ago, aka: one of the most perfect romantic comedies of all time. Diane Fucking Keaton. I am inching sloooooooowly out of the closet on this IF nonesense. 96.44% there about outing my infertile ass on the blog. IRL, I've been telling anyone who dares to ask me when I'm planning on having kids, anyway. This includes my grandfather who in the middle of dinner one night about a month ago, asked: "So, when are you guys going to give us some grandchildren?" (taps his wristwatch) "You aren't getting any younger..." This comment did not bode well. I looked at Hubs, and he looked at me, and then I went into a diatribe about my cervical mucus and ovulation disorder, and how he might want to study up on PCOS and infertility before he started tapping his fucking wristwatch. Yes...coming out of the closet is sounding better and better already.

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    1. DOOOOOOOO it. We're in the closet because we KEEP ourselves in the closet. Nobody else is shoving us back there! It's us. And maybe if we start coming out of the infertility closet, we can inspire others to do the same.

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  6. Man, I totally have a gay hubby -- we've been "married" since the age of 16, basically -- but he's the straightest-acting gay ever, and is totes useless with the infertility stuff. He doesn't get why anyone would be so obsessed with the idea of having kids, at least biological ones, and hates talking about anything to do with vaginas, and doesn't really understand what RE stands for, let alone POAS before AF. Sigh... but maybe it's just those amazing one-off compliments that make it all worthwhile. I would DIE for a Diane Keaton comparison! :)

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    1. Oh no honey.. YOu need to get yourself a FLABOYANT gay. A girlfriend as it were.

      Mine even went with me - and WATCHED - the trial transfer before our IVF.

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  7. Ladies, I am soooo out of the infertility closet. I don't think I was ever in it to begin with. Mostly because I am a terrible secret keeper, but also because the infertility was bad enough to deal with on its own. I couldn't imagine the pain of living a double life. Take it from me, it is so freeing!! I own this badge because I earned it. Even if it's a sucky one, it's still mine. It's still part of my story and wouldn't hide that for a second.

    It makes me so happy to see the bravery you ladies have. Be loud and proud! Then, at least you'll have a few extra shoulders to cry on when it gets rough, as it often does. Also, when I'm super bloated from the Clomid it gives me a great excuse to blame away my fat day :)

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  8. I love Diane Keaton and I Love you. I think you are going to be a badass mom. I would glady child share with you so you could throw a fork at our kid.

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    1. Ha! Ms. sunshine, in another life we run away together and adopt ourselves a kid.

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  9. You are making me miss my Wayne again (who is, incidentally, touring the UK next year in 'Pricilla', because he is THAT fabulous). I wish there was an online fag hag dating agency. Hmmmm, hole in the market?

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    1. There SHOULD BE ONE.

      Mr. T was telling me about this app that many gays have wherein at least in L.A., you meet other gays to meet up with... and that occasionally it's used by a clever girl who just arrived to L.A. and wants to make new friends.

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    2. Yes!!! I need this service!

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  10. You and Mr T are clearly a gay-friend marriage made in heaven! He sounds as brilliant as you are! I think you will be an awesome Mum, he is so right! Perhaps a scary MiL though, warning off any nasty pieces from your son/daughter ;)

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    1. Oh I would indeed be the best and/or worst mother in law a person has ever had, depending on their fabulousness.

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  11. That is a really REALLY wonderful compliment from your gay hubby. Plus, I love Diane Keaton, especially in Something's Gotta Give. One of my all-time favorite movies. But I can't watch The Family Stone because my mom died of cancer...it's just a little too real for me.

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    1. Ohhh Sams, I know - believe me. My Dad died of cancer and Mr. T failed to warn me this was a cancer movie.. (So moral of the story number 2, Mr. T can be quite the dick lol).

      I looooove Something's gotta give. one of my all time favorites.

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  12. I freaking love this! And I totally got misty-eyed for you. "sweet" would be an understatement got what that was. Not just to tell you that he believes you will be a mom, but THAT mom. I love it!

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    1. A rare and drug filled moment of sweetness.. I doubt he even remembers saying it but it's one of my go-to happy moments. ;)

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  13. Oh that was such a sweet thing to say. I lOVE off the cuff comments like that, there is so much more sincerity behind them. I haven't seen the film before, but I do completely avoid anything that makes me cry. Is it really sad?!

    Out of curiosity, does anyone else think they will have a kid with attachment issues? I've already told my best friend not to expect to ever hold my baby, I am never letting go once it's in my arms! Haha!

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  14. Diane,
    I love that movie, actually started watching it the other day, every christmas season from October on I watch a few of my favorites over and over again and I wish to be 1/8 the mom that she is in that movie, I love that..... Made me tear up.

    xo
    Ali

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  15. I've fallen off the cyber planet for a month, but it feels like years. Videos? (Gulp.) I love that movie! Your gay husband is amazing.

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  16. I chuckled at the thought of your interpretive dance. What must those manly mechanics thought?

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