30s TTC. It was the BESHt of times,it was the worst of times, it was the age of rummaging in gussets, drinking gin.....

[ginhag]

C'mon in BESHes to the beach bar...sprawl on comfy sofas while you wiggle your toes in the sand and watch a glorious sunset....and drink brightly coloured cocktails with sparklers in. Cos we're classy,innit.

I've got Adam and joe in as barmen, and we have a rather nice Cave of Gloom in the corner for those 'whyyyyyy meeeeeeee???' moments. We have a reggae sound system playing mob barley's greatest hits. It's a sunshine paradise!

Newcomers welcome,as long as they drag along a bucket of black humour and a vast amount of gin. And please note,some of us have been here so long we have forgotten the real world almost entirely.

Now,who's getting the next round in?

...although talking of gussets (and I know I don't know you ladies very well, but you seem like good sorts...) I have an unusual amount of CM todya....muchos strange. I am 6 days post-O (I think).....

tis all sunny and bright here....lovely, lovely sun. Will be bronzed goddess by summer.......

oh God. That's so many kinds of wrong.

Whoops, sorry - that was to the wank mitten, not salty's update!

May I just point out, my epic gusset activities would have had me elevated to hero status in any other culture. For sure.

Day at work over. Was a success but am knackered. Then came home to discover that my in-laws - who are decent sweet affectionate people but also, without exception, the most dithering incompetent vague borderline-demented socially inept people you can possibly even begin to imagine - have cocked even more people about viz. their wedding anniversary plans than I had previously thought. So I am now dealing with an OM who is borderline tearful (he has done everything he can to make the event nice but to no avail, as they cannot absorb any information more complex than a single syllable bellowed into their ear whilst someone in a neon tabard brandishes a semaphore flag), and fractious church members, and general prune-faced sniffiness and disapproval. Next Saturday, let me tell you my darlings, is going to be a kind of Fresh Hell hitherto undreamt-of.

Apart from that I'm fine obviously.

Shit

I'd have a gin before you go if I were you....
hmmm...speaking of gin.....

Can we all come??

I'm actually borderline tearful (an annual event, if that). I am so frustrated. And really angry with myself because I'm sure I could have averted this.

We've had months of this kind of conversation (names are changed to protect identities):

Every week for the last four years:

Glenda: HB! My Son! You won't forget we want a HUGE party for our WA, will you?
HB/The OM: Of course not Mum. We'd love to arrange something for you. It's all in hand.

Monday
Glenda: Hello D-in-L! Are we going to have a party for our Wedding Anniversary? Just something tiny. Not much.
HB: Yes, Glenda. We booked the church hall in June. Do you remember?
Glenda: Oh lovely!

Tuesday
Glenda (to church members): I don't think my son is doing anything for our WA and I always said I wanted a HUGE party!

Wednesday
Church Member: Hi HB. Don't you think you should, you know, be a nice human being and arrange something for your MIL's WA?
HB (tearful): BUT WE HAVE!

Friday
Glenda: HB, do you think we should have a WA party?
HB: (baffled) What, like the one we've booked in June?
Glenda: Oh well I don't know that I want a big do. But I'd like caterers! I have a number for a catering company!
HB: That sounds lovely, why don't you book them?

Saturday, 9.15pm
Glenda: Actually, Esme offered to cater.
HB: How sweet!

Saturday, 9.17p,
HB's Mum: HB, did you know that Esme and the church are furious because you've dumped catering for a party on them with one week's notice?

Saturday, 9.18pm
The OM:
HB: [mortified emoticon]

Dreading it DREADING IT

Oh Lawks and if you only knew the background....

I think I'm going to go and pour myself a pint of Amaretti.

Oh, and, the event will also entail people looking up and down and saying, What, ten years married and not children yet?! Go on, get on with it, best job in the world, can't think why you don't have three already, I had eleven by the time I was your age and look, they can all recite the books of the Bible in order!

Gngngnnnnngn

oh that sounds awful....

At least it will be over and done with soon, hey?

Have a flaming sambuca on me [hug]

Fanks Salty. And yes I am making a mountain out of a teacup and a storm in a molehill. It's just I'm so tired. And the OM is so upset. And I don't want to go back to the church because it just reminds me of my upbringing and all the strangeness*.

BAH.

This flaming sambuca is JUST THE TRICK.

*Nothing sinister or illegal, I hasten to interject.

don't burn your lips on the glass!

Church gives me The Fear

Have you read "Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit"? My upbringing was not dissimilar, only her experience sounded more fun (my chapel would have thought the use of a tambourine was akin to a full-scale orgy unfolding in front of the communion table).

Poor heed

Arm yourself with a few choice one-liners in case of any intrusiveness. There's only so much nodding and smiling you can in response to such pointed rudeness (dressed up as concern, obv)

Oh lordy..... You might actually implode from the sense of warmth and soul-laughter you get by going back there....

Good book incidentally....

In fact, I always found the line 'it's a medical thing' prevented further comment. Not rude or argumentative but impossible to come back on. Perfect.

OR...you could say 'I'm keeping myself pure in the hope that the Good Lord will choose me for the second coming'....

Good advice Cunty. I'll write that one on my wrist and refer to it in moments of stress

Serious shittiness about your bills by the way. cannot bear all that stuff. Sometimes the injustice of it all makes me wanna puke.

Is a fabbo book SaltySeaDog! Plus, her delicatessen is a thing of wonder too.

Good work Salty, I think I'll go with that one!

I'm wondering if we need to out some music on in here? Perhaps have a little dance?

Do a little dance, make a little love, have fun tonight?

Yespliz.

I am going to watch Glee and eat a heroic plate of pasta topped with two ounces of parmesan and the devil take the consequences. Then I shall return and there'd better be a full-scale rave in 'ere

...or possibly 'get down tonight'.

Obviously I was brought up on the Bowdlerized version

DarlingHead just say this:

"As the Lord leads, Brenda, as the Lord leads."

(even if her name isn't Brenda)

I am on both your behalves, too. Do the others know what they're like, at least? It sounds like it would be hard to miss. So at least they might think "oh, it's just Bill & Maureen fussing, we know Head and whatahandsomecoppaheis will have it all in hand, being the superstars they are" ??

mmmmm...I may just chew directly on a lump of cheese.....

Glee-schmee.....

I may have raved myself into an early night by then.....

Firstly, thank you Headfucked for making me grateful for my ILs, secondly for you. There is a certain type of mega-dithering that seems to be a virtual personality disorder of the British middle classes; trying so hard not to 'cause a fuss' or 'be any trouble' that they can't settle on anything, change everything so often and so confusingly that no-one can keep up and by being so basically apologetic for existing that they end up pissing off everyone involved and ruining the event through the mind-boggling amounts of stress generated. My Mum suffers from a minor form of it - when we go out for a meal en famille, I have to squeeze her hand under the table in warning because she will keep a waiter at the table forever because she feels guilty about someone cooking for her and someone else bringing her food, etc., etc., and she keeps changing her mind as to what to get because she 'doesn't want to trouble the chef too much', FFS. And that's just in McDonalds*! BADUM-TSSSH.

As for the children-question thing, Cunty, as per usual, has it about right. 'It's a medical thing', followed by a slight tightening of the lips and a wistful glance at a fixed spot should do the trick. And if you get some really nosy and/or tactless git pressing for more info, just tell her that church isn't the right place to discuss bedroom matters. Use their uptightness against them! Alternatively, launch into a spiel about cervical mucus and erections and watch them shut up pronto

Am now ready to par-tay and rave. Bangers, I'll teach you the filthy version of 'Get down on it' - perhaps you could offer to sing it at the WA do? Most appropriate

*Not really, obviously. Mater would never countenance such a thing.