Rants and Articles.
Adulthood
Most reputable sources agree on the fact that adulthood is something you gradually grow into, like your older brother’s clothes, or… you know… a cock ring. I’ve always thought that notion is bullshit.
Adulthood snuck up on me and jumped from behind a dark corner screaming bloody murder and waving its arms around like that annoying aunt you always find at family reunions who keeps squeezing your cheeks for no good reason (and, as of late, has taken to squeezing your buttcheeks instead).
One day I was drinking my ass off, taking bets on whether my liver would actually burst with that 30th beer (it didn’t), and the very next day I was at my best friend’s wedding, listening as he vowed eternal love to his bride and facing the fact that I was growing up (come to think of it, that may have been the same day).
One wedding paved the way. One kid was followed by another, and suddenly everyone around me is married, has a mortgage and our usual drunk Fridays have been rescheduled to Saturday afternoons to accommodate the sleeping habits of blathering, raging bundles of joy (what the fuck is with that phrase, anyway?)
All the while, I’ve kept my usual pattern of getting involved in pointless, codependent relationships with mentally deranged women.
Slowly but surely, I’ve become the single guy, and everyone is starting to ask (some more loudly than others) if there’s something wrong with me. Or worse: They give me the look. If you’re a single person trapped in a group of married people you know what I’m talking about: Quadraplegics have got nothing on us! It’s like suddenly one developed a golf-ball sized raging boil of hardened pus in one’s face and as soon as people see you they start patting your shoulder and tell you condescendingly: “Don’t worry, dear, it will pass”.
So, this is a shout out to the couples from table 19 in Hilda’s wedding reception, pesky friends (you know who you are), and you too, mom —
I’m either:
- Gay.
- On drugs.
- Secretly a midget.
- A necrophiliac.
- Mentally fixated on my (or your) mother.
- All of the above (And yes, I am aware that that would make me a gay junkie secret midget with an oedipal complex who buggers dead people, and quite possibly the best party entertainment ever).
Take your pick, and stop trying to set me up, thankyouverymuch.
— sergio on November 29, 2004 
Comments
Ja ja ja…I think coffee is your drug.
This is what I do, I respond with: “Mejor soltera que casarme con la primera cosa que se cruza por mi camino”.
Works.
That was pretty funny… however… after surviving that day of marital ceremony, I find that the problem for me only extended much further.
You see, now we’re the only couple we know that does not yet have kids. I’m starting to get that same look you described when we mention that we *do* want kids and we *are* trying (which is always enjoyable). Just nothing happening yet and we’ve been married 7 years now.
So you see… it has some sort of correlation with peer pressure. We’re no longer dealing with friends who want us to just take one drink or one puff of the cig, now we’re facing those same peers who have taken certain steps that we haven’t yet. It never ends. It only becomes more socially acceptable (whereas early school hazing was much more frowned upon by adults).
Great post.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.
I am sure some of the greatest men in history were gay junkies, secret midgets with an oedipal complex who buggered dead people. Or very brave or smart or something.
You are always welcome in my house.
If you’re gay and you have a Bisexual friend, you’re always welcome in my house too. Hehehe…
nice.
That sums up what I’ve been going through too.
about 1/2 of my friend married and all of them starting to look me queer
Fortunately, not a single friend from OC … as far as I know.
…or are you already making plans Salamastre?
My boyfriend and I are the “aww sweethearts” of our group. The main qualification of being “aww sweethearts” is that we do not routinely throw dishware at each other, or set each other’s personal belongings on fire. This is not because we share The Deep Resounding Love of Eternity, but mostly because we are lazy and have exchanged too many belongings to try and extricate them now.
This status was not a big problem until one of my friends got married. So I got the whole “But Bia—I thought that surely you would be the first, tee hee!” thing, and then she proceeded to chuck the bouquet squarely at my head.
Now there’s just this general consensus that not only am I marrying him, we are plotting some sort of secret surprise ceremony. I probably will marry him eventually (he makes a mean fettucine alfredo), but I’m not exactly rip-rarin’ to settle down. Not to mention everyone seems to think that if I do not nail a ring to his finger *now*, he will run off with the first passing blonde that he sees.
In short: societal expectations are stupid. We must burn them. Sergio, you are always welcome at my house. I may not have enough chairs, but I will save you some pasta.
once again, brother Sergio, I’m feelin’ your pain. I’m so sick of my mother and sister looking for women on my behalf that I could scream.
I briefly considered lying and saying that I was gay, but then they’d just start looking for men for me.
Hahahaha!
You missed zoophile. You hated your previous cat in such way we could tell you had a love so sick admit.
Aw. Rank me in the mentally deranged women category. I’m also a bitch with no sense of properness in handling relationships of any kind, a self-torturing exhibitionistic freak that posts self-portrait photos taken in her washroom on the blog, AND a lesbian with extremely long fingernails. The latter is important to underline because: “Long fingernails have various uses. They are good for back and head scratching, they are handy self-defense tools, they are unquestionable proof of lesbian (or at least finger-fucking) celibacy and a sure obstruction for fast typing.” Which makes me not only an eunuch, but also a masochist, being that I spend most of my time struggling with the keyboard and still refuse to cut the damn claws.
Only you could put a link to an explanation of a cock ring, and a picture of an innocent baby together in a post and make it work.
Thank you!!! What is the deal with marriage??? it shouldnt even be allowed! We should get rid of it along with the weekdays as planned : ) and if anything, you are welcome in my house too! Like bianca said, i may not have enough chairs but i do have a great huge comfortable couch that you are welcome to!
The good thing about the bunch of us who hang around this site is that, we seem to understand and be empathic about all this crap.
I get the same thing from my mom, and my friends are starting to fall into marriage like flies into hidden spider nets. Nothing wrong with marriage, I guess if you find the “one” that is cool. Yet finding that one seems to be so much easier for some people.
Me?. Well, I am a geek who has grown reading about super fantasy girls, and watching anime with cute girls and the bestest attitudes. I have issues with real woman, they never live up to those expectations!!… O.o
Anyway… Screw what society think you should be doing. Do what you feel you should be doing. And as long as you have a couple of friends to share your points with, everything is not lost. (coldplay starts playing).
I feel your pain. Everyone I *used* to hang out with are all committed. I *finally* got a good woman (according to everyone who was not dating her) you know “that cute doctor girl”. (by the way what is up with family and marrying doctors?) We just broke up and now the look that I get is thrown at me twice as hard.
The tribe is frustrated.
Turumbar, do not worry, mine could be called a de-facto marriage, but before it becomes an official thing, with a party, relatives and a signed contract, we need more $ stability. With our career choice, I bet most of OC will be married before us.
What I find strange is that I never did worry about it. I was not looking for ‘the right girl’(tm). I just went with the flow, and now I know she is the right girl. How could it be otherwise?
When I knew we would eventually get married was when the tought of sudden and unplanned parenthood went from ‘the most terrifying nightmare on earth’ to ‘it could actually be cool’.
And I think this it what this is all about: Your family wants you to have children. The tribe wants you to have children. LIFE WANTS YOU TO REPRODUCE.
Getting married is just a prerequisite for having children.
And having children is not the most rational thing to do. It is scary, expensive, time consuming, debiltating and very risky. If you think about it, it is not a wise thing for most people to do.
So once you take that path, you want reassurance from people around you. If everybody is doing it, then it must be right. Right? And if it is right, I want you to do it too.
So Sergio, maybe you should become a sperm donnor, in as many places as possible. Get receipts, laminate them, and when people give you The Look, shove the receipts in their faces and say: I AM SPAWNING, OK? AND I WAS LOOKING AT PICTURES OF WOMEN WHILE I DID IT!!! NOT A SINGLE IMAGE OF MEN CROSSED MY MIND!!!
Hear, Hear!
Well said Saladmaster. I find myself in a similar situation (long term relationship that will eventually lead to legal, official and maybe even religious acceptance). My problem is I’m not interested in children but she is. Even though she has accepted living with me a childless life, every time someone mentions “are you going to have children?” it really depresses her.
However, it seems only my Mexican friends seem to ask those things and that fact brings me to say one thing to you: You yourself are perfectly ok, you just happen to be living in the wrong society. Around here (Ontario, Canada), it seems everyone is ok with either being a bachelor, being gay, living together unmarried or not having children (they don’t like midgets though… just kidding, they find those fine as well). There are other things they are extremely anal about (and when the time comes, I’ll complain about it properly) but you would never find yourself complaining about your “no-wife” problems here.
In summary, I agree with those who say its society’s fault. However, I just wanted to mention that there are societies in the world where its not such a big problem.
Gabo, my theory to account for your observation, which is mine, my theory I mean, is:
Societal pressure to breed in Ontario is less than in Mexico because Ontario is not only outsourcing help desk and IT jobs to China and India, but breeding as well.
From http://www.gov.on.ca, “26.8% of the population of Ontario were foreign-born” and “China (and its Special Administrative Regions - Hong Kong and Macau) was the leading country of birth” and “India was the next leading country of birth of immigrants to Ontario.”
If you stay there, being an immigrant, the responsibility to spawn the next generation of canadians will be on your shoulder’s. If you come back here, well, you know how it is.
I almos’t made it’s to the end without’s an apostrophe.
Salamastre and Gabo, true observations. In the US and Canada, the problems only arise when you go back to a community that is mostly mexican (like I will do around the holidays) you start getting that look again…
And you just can’t feel the urge but to (insert your own violent method of getting rid of annoying pesky things)
Another funny thing that happens when all your friends around you get the marriage/stable relationship itch is when they stop inviting you to their social gatherings (or start making excuses when you invite them to yours). It seems that over time a tacit rule is applied to these gatherings: all the assistants have to be in that exclusive circle of the ‘happily laced’.
One theory behind this tacit rule is that each member of the aforementioned group gets paranoid about any friends that are still single because they might, accidentally or on purpose, hit on any of their significant others -BTW, gay people can be invited to the ‘circle’ because of course, they’re no threat to the straight couples-.
Now, when you still had the chance to get together with your friends -of course, when you say “get together” now it includes your friend AND the appendix^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H significant other-, it happens very often that you catch that “I’m watching you My Friend” -which in this case My Friend can be read as Mother Fucker- glimpse from the boyfriend of the girl your laughing your ass with -in case it wasn’t clear, the boyfriend IS your friend-.
But see, keeping the group closed is just a delay mechanism because as time goes by the group ends up being some kind of a naughty playhouse: a swingers dream. Of course, they all live in denial even though their subconcius in each one of them knows who is fucking who and they live with it, because after all, belonging is more important than being an outsider.
So, there it is. The selfish gene conspires against you in so many ways.
Anyway, when you still have the chance to attend one of these gatherings since you are such a considered, thoughtful guy and you see this girl so bored, so striving to be knocked off her feet that is difficult to let the chance pass by… to resist the urge, to..
-Hey buddy, what’s up! How’s it going? You know your wife here has an excellent sense of humor- and those lips, that smile -Hey, are there any Tuborg’s left in the fridge? Got to grab one. Talk to you later-
Oh well, friendship first.
Maybe their paranoia is not that unjustified…
[Particularly incompetent spam deleted here]
Wow. Did that spam even have any point? I mean, it obviously wasn’t promoting any link…
Gabo… have kids…
Salamastre… marry her…
Sergio… stop toying with corpses…
Society needs you!…
synopsis:
spread the seed my friend. remember that man was made to “spread the seed.” i think David Koresh said it best and i quote:
“i will plant my seed in you.” (not really a quote, i made it up to support my own argument)
food for thought:
one of my friends recently enlightenend me on the positives of polygamy. it turns out (scientifically speaking) that if a man sleeps with a woman and the woman sleeps with no other man, the baby’s father can be definitively determined. vice versa, not the case.
remember that making the “better half” your spouse requires effort and no-one should put forth that amount of effort.
goodbye:
i end with a brief psalm…
may your crotch be infested with 1000 fleas,
and may your arms be too short to scratch them…
yes i know, i am an unoriginal bastard (figuratively and literally). i am also a hypocrit as i have a “better half.” live the dream and sleep around until you are a wrinkled freak.
other playful lines:
pick up your skirt, grab your balls and have some fun. i know, i know, another unoriginal line. this paragraph is so fucking long even i am losing interest.
Slammastre writes:
“So Sergio, maybe you should become a sperm donnor”
yes, Sergio. become a sperm Don. if you become the Don (professor of sperm), let me know if my sperm can have your blessing. just a playful punch, nothing personal so dont take it that way. feel free to slam back… i’m rick james bitch… all right, forget the unoriginal stuff. i quit.
Dude… you drunk?
I always get a huge kick out of the comments. Glad to know I’m not the only one on this situation. It’s also interesting how such a big percentage of the Oc audience empathizes.
So it IS a mexican thing! Although all of my single friends are always welcome in the house and I am known to go down a few beers with them -even in my paired state-, I DO get looks from the married women friends or the outright comment on how I am putting my marriage at risk going out with these men.
Fuck’em.
sergio writes:
“Dude… you drunk?”
ding ding ding. what do we have for him Johnny. anywho, this will probably be my last post. i have a tendency to irritate and enrage (truth seeker).
it is truly refreshing to see someone that obviously takes pride in his work (Zeldman, i thank you too for providing a link to this site). if only the average Henry Dumas had an inkling of this sometimes overlooked character trait. kudos to you Sergio.
i would end with another riveting quote but, alas, i am afraid the average Dumas is not ready for what i have to say. i will still read your stuff as it brings a certain wittiness missing from my every day life. goodbye… a tear.
Damn! Where is my violin?
analogous zinger:
a man who served in WWI puts on a helmet and alas, it is stuck. since that time he attempts to remove it using several forms of lubrication. doctors won’t operate because they could damage his brain.
my comment to him:
have you tried soapy water?
Great! I am definitely on drugs _and_ a necrophiliac.
LMAO. Excellent post.