The two of you that actually read Favoloso Mondo might be wondering about the latest news in this galaxy of slack that is this blog. So as I'm totally slacking today, here's a helping of quickies of news since erm, December. (Slack slack slack. Or not...)
So we've established that the Henchwoman was visiting in November. Three weeks later the majority of SO's family came to visit; his older brother for a week, and his youngest sister and father for around a month. There were times I was really thankful that I don't understand [insert language that isn't Italian or English here], namely during family arguments, and other times were I would rapidly stop wondering if they were talking about me and instead would be bored off my Keister.
We've also established that his Dad's a wee perv. There were a few times when his family slept at my place as we would have dinners there (being bigger). He perved on all of my flatmates. Subtly, but it was definitely perving.
We had to warn the girls that SO's dad was prone to nightly bathroom excursions that didn't involve A) locking the door (as he's not a generally well man and thus keeps unlocked doors for safety reasons) and B)turning on the lights. So there was a distinct possibility of my flatmates walking in on an elderly pissing perv.
And on Christmas day when SO & I arrived, the door to my bedroom was open. I walked into my room as any normal person does when confronted with an open door only to find my father-out-law* wearing nothing but a shirt, pants in hand. GAH! And then the cheeky twerp just grinned at me as i very redly excused myself back out. Thank Dog for my decorating skills as my TV set on the dresser blocked the majority of my view.
Just what i always wanted for Christmas - to see my father-out-law bare-arsed and grinning at me. Oh dear...
His family left and my mother arrived the next day, to ostensibly help me celebrate the 30th birthday. I've pretty much summed up the highlight of that trip in another post, but another two minor incidents stick out in my mind.
One of which was a conversation involving birth control. i mentioned that I hated the pill and was thus using the spirale aka an IUD. She informed me "Gee, that's how you were conceived."
Way to jinx my birth control, Ma. Think I'll put Super glue on the inside of my thighs now...
The other conversation revolved around SO. She really likes him. Gushes, in fact. She's meet him once before (the first time we dated) and liked him well enough, but after he took her around Rome one afternoon the gushing hasn't stopped. Which is fine, if a novel experience for me (SO is probably the only guy I've ever, ever brought to 'meet the family' so to speak.)
Gushing aside, the last night in Rome found us at dinner at a place where a friend works. While SO was of in the toilets or talking to our friend (don't quite remember), Ma observed that SO seemed rather Clucky, a fact that I had noticed for the Nth time out of the corner of my eye. 'Clucky' meaning that he was watching some toddlers at table nearby and his biological clock was ticking louder than an A-bomb on Bikini Atoll. All I could do was grimace and agreed that she was spot on, but that his biological clock usually ticked for about a week, during which I would be freaked out by random pronouncements about procreating, and a week later he would flat out declare "Fuck no, I don't want kids."
I've quit my old job. My new boss? She's a total bitch.
I officially gave notice in mid January and am working on starting up my own business, which has been stressful at times but will hopefully be getting of the ground soon. My now ex-boss has been dicking me around about the money he owes me, however, which has put a crimp in my planning to say the least. and here I'm stuck between Scylla and Charybdis, as getting a lawyer for extracting my money out of him would A) take way the fuck longer than just waiting him out (I Hope) and B) burn a bridge I don't necessarily wish to burn.
Meh. I had anticipated tightening the belt for a few months, but this situation better get remedied soon or I'll have a waist like Nicole Ritchie's upper arm.
It'll work out though...been busting the old ass, and there's times when SO has had a few moments of jealousy regarding my computer. But after one nasty bought of green-PC-meanies where a message of his made me cry for two hours (in fairness it was more like the straw that broke the camel's back), he's been nothing short of major league-supportive. And he too has been Capital TS Totally Stressed as well as...
His dad came back mid-January, not long after my mother left. Accompanied by another sister, his trip this time around was for medical purposes. The poor bastard has diabetes, has had multiple bypasses, strokes, attacks, you name it. That of course, doesn't stop him from eating, drinking, & doing stuff he's not supposed to. SO says that he ignores the doctor's advice for a few years until he starts to feel really bad, then checks himself into the hospital, behaves (less badly), gets better & starts the cycle over again. In the choice between carpe diem & prudence, SO's dad has chosen the former by and by large.
So his dad was in the hospital, getting tested for everything for about a month. They eventually unblocked 3 veins and once recuperated sent him home one afternoon with the long list of prescriptions he needs to take on a daily basis.
SO's oldest sister calls at 5am saying that Father-Out-Law has been taken back to the hospital in an ambulance. Turns out the hospital accidentally switched the dosages of the two types of insulin he takes, sending him into an insulin coma. F-O-L nearly had another heart attack 12 hours later when he awoke - he had gone to bed at the home of the eldest sister and woke up in yet another hospital. Would scare the living shit out of me, too.
So he's been in and out of the hospital for another month in total; they want to unblock another vein, but are afraid he won't be able to handle the anaesthesia. Both SO & his oldest sister are a bit frazzled, to say the least.
Curly's doing well in Berlin and I miss the bloody bastard on a daily basis, if only to give me the male interpretation of some of SO' weirder pronouncements. He texted me at 4am sometime around my birthday - the message read "I am engaged." which was a 'Holy Fucking Shit' moment if there ever was one. But 'twas not a proposal brought on by mass consumption of German beer - he had hinted in an email earlier that week that he might have big news for me soon.
And two days later they called the engagement off, as the timing was not optimal due to various visa and already established travel plans. they're still happily together, and some of the visa/timing issues are working themselves out, so I fully anticipate becoming a Best Man in the next two years, if not sooner.
This news from Germany is relevant as it sparked a , erm, discussion, betwixt SO & myself one night over Chinese. He made a comment about 'getting engaged and calling it off' which I found totally uncalled for.
"Excuse me? Look who the fuck is talking, Mr. Propose Three Times and Takes It Back"
"I only asked you once and I had problems at the time that lead to us breaking up"
"I don't think so. You proposed in Egypt, sans ring and then took it back after a bad dream during a nap the day after. You proposed at my old apartment, again sans ring, and took it back a week later after we had some stupid fight. and then you proposed with the ring, if you can call that time period a proposal, and then we broke up due to those problems."
"See? Only once."
"Oh, it only counts with a ring? Great, I'll have to remember that one."
I swear to God he gets off on pushing my buttons sometimes.
Anyway, this conversation lead somehow to Sproglings and the Creation of, a topic that we had danced around before. My stance has always been "Never say never, and I don't deny I have a Biological clock, but for now, Hell Fucking No." His has depended on the week - one week it's "I really want kids" (or rather, he really wants a daughter. Guess I should thank my lucky stars he's not talking in plurals...), the next it's a "Hell Fucking No" that is 10 time more vehement than mine (and mine is very, very vehement, people.)
So I reiterated my Sprog Stance, but as marriage was in the discussion also, I flat out told him that IF (please imagine that in 10 foot high letters) I decided I wanted kids, I would only have kids with someone who had the balls to first marry me, as you'd better damn well be able to commit to ME for a lifetime before you even think about bringing another life onto this planet. In other words, if you can't commit to someone (or even make the attempt - I know divorce is common nowadays and that's a whole 'nother can of worms) who is standing before you in flesh and blood, you have no business planting crotchlings without a care in the world.
I'm a bit of an old-fashioned girl in this sense. Marriage is something that, though it is not an active life goal of mine, is something that I will do ONCE in my life, if at all. And divorce would be the absolute last option exercised. That is the level of commitment I would give and would expect in return. And that commitment would have to exist before I even thought about popping out Sprog.
And I made it clear to him that 'you' in this instance was a general 'you' and applied to whomever I was/am/will have(ing) a relationship with; it wasn't aimed strictly at him.
SO's stance? Marriage is just a legal construct. And therefore it's less complicated to just split up than divorce.
So I grew more and more pissy attempting (upon request) to better explain my opinion while he just kept coming back to 'So it's just a piece of paper.' I finally gave up on the drive back to his place and seethed in silence at his hard-headedness/button-pushing/my inability to explain fully/the ridiculousness of the conversation considering we don't even live together.
Once back at his place, he broke the silence.
"So either I marry you and we have a kid, or I don't marry you and we don't have a kid. Is that right?"
"Basically."
He thinks for a bit
*shrugs* "Well, between my nephew, my niece and my best friend's daughter there's enough leftover to go around. So i stay with you and we don't get married"
I'm really surprised he didn't hear the huge sigh of relief coming from my uterus - Force 5 Hurricane, it was.
And that would be the end of my tale of my near brush with procreation, if not for last night's offhand comment in the car. A few days again some Tv program had done a special on the 'Las Vegas of Europe'. Basically some place in Scotland where it's disgustingly easy to get hitched quick. No seriously worrying comments were made that night and i totally forgot about it until yesterday.
he picked me up from 'work' (my place) and on the drive back to his place I mentioned my dad had emailed with news that there is a distinct possibility of him being eligible for Italian citizenship and there I too would be eligible.
"Figo. Così non ti devo sposare."**
*I chuckle uneasily.* [Didn't we already have a discussion on this topic?!]
"Che dici? Ti porto a Scozia?"
[What the fuck?! Ok your best evasive move is to chuckle again like that's a mildly amusing joke. Because he's driving & you're already hitting an imaginary brake pad while he does - marriage and his explanation of that comment do NOT need to enter the equation right now if you wish to continue living.]
And so I did just that. and without a doubt the topic will come up again in the near future, causing me heart palpitations and crisi di nervi
And I'll actually update the blog again when it does.
*Foo-out-laws: defined in a previous post as in-laws when you are in a serious relationship, yet not married
**"Cool. I don't have to marry you."
"what do you say. Should I take you to Scotland?"
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