"And graven with diamonds in letters plain, There is written, her fair neck round about; ' Noli me tangere; for Cæsar's I am, And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.'"
When my friends got pregnant (three people expecting four babies in a period spanning two weeks - clearly there was something in the water that year) I maybe selfishly felt as if they were all Doing Something Without Me, at a time where I was getting out of a six-year-long abusive relationship and suffering from major depression. FOMO but with marriage and children, how fucking weird, but also how fucking real and terrible anyways. I came to feel like my friends were moving to a foreign country or maybe another planet entirely.
There was all this talk of stretchmarks and layettes and nursery arrangements, at a time when I was facing the very real prospect of homelessness, it was like we weren't even speaking the same language anymore.
"...and we're not sure if we want to put the crib next to the closet, or closer to the window. And then of course the husband's got to assemble the rocking chair still..."
"...I feel as if I'm actively dying. I may not have a place to live in six weeks. I have begun researching homeless shelters."
"He wants to name it after his grandfather if it's a boy but I said no way are we naming our son Horace..."
"...I have panic attacks in Target. My eyes are permanently red and puffy because I can't stop crying. I throw up a lot."
"Oh, yeah, I did that during my first trimester. You know, I have been SO TRANSFORMED by this experience."
"Yeah. Me too."
Things are better now, and I love those babies (who are now 2 1/2) with a scary fierceness I never expected. They ask to FaceTime with me on the phone - "I talk Auntie Wheea?" and when we are together we laugh and play trains and we draw on sidewalks with chalk. I love their mothers too, and even though I still do not have children of my own I came to learn that the country my friends moved to is not remote, inaccessible outback and it's really just next door.
I hate that so far she's been spot-on with my month. And now I'm terrified for the holidays. ARGHHHH FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU
Because maybe I like it when I walk down the street and Japanese tourists yell "Nani yo?! GOJIRA!!!!"
@Billycheer They don't have to agree. They just get a court order to do it. http://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/can-my-student-loan-creditor-garnish-my-wages.html
@A. Louise I guarantee that if I tell Sallie Mae that I am just putting the payments in escrow as a sort of peaceful protest until they start shapin' up, they are going to laugh until they barf, hang up the phone, wipe the bile from their mouths and then file that garnishment order. They do not care. They will be digging up my grave and picking jewelry from my corpse and the very fillings from my teeth before I'm even cold.
Let's be real: they will just garnish your wages.
My childhood-trauma 1950s-remnant salad was what my family called a "coleslaw ring". Imagine all the deliciousness of coleslaw, but in solid Jello-ring form with lime Jell-O holding it together. And about half a jar (gag) of mayonnaise spooned into the center (gag) as if the coleslaw itself didn't have enough (gag) mayonnaise in it already...oh god I'm going to hork. Horrors. Just...horrors.
Massive Attack's "Mezzanine". The entire album. That and a couple glasses of plum wine and LOOK OUT LADIES AND GENTS
My vote is for Cotton-Eyed Joe by Rednex.