Posted in Picture, Writing

Marriage is for Quitters

Being a 32-year-old, unmarried, childless waste of a human life, I am often asked when I’m going to sort my shit out.  I would like to take this opportunity to tell these people that I do have my shit sorted out, and said shit is divided up as follows:

Billy and I have been together for over 12 years with no intention of getting married.  Like none at all.  I have no interest in wedding dresses, flowers and colour coordinated fabric swatches all crammed into a room full of relatives who don’t particularly like each other.  We already have the mortgage, the dog and the joint bank account, why would I want the piece of paper that gives Billy permission to take a shit with the door open?   Now, this is not to say that we won’t ever get married.  I’m sure once I’ve popped out a few kids and my vagina looks like the blown out remains of a Baghdad government building I will give in and accept my fate, but until then, I would rather spend wedding-money on things like this:

Plus, I quite like being someone’s girlfriend.  It gives the somewhat exciting illusion that it could all come to an end at any minute* (*update: it did) and it also makes me feel like I have loads of time until I have to start breeding* (*update: I still don’t).  We did get engaged about 7 years ago, but that was essentially just so people would stop asking us when we were going to get engaged and also in the hope that they would back the fuck off my uterus and stop making unrealistic demands of it.  I wasn’t ready for kids then and, even though it won’t be long before my ovaries shrivel up and disappear in a little *puff* of dust, I still don’t know if I am.  Not long ago, I was accused by a complete stranger in a bar of being “selfish” for having this attitude towards having kids.  He said, and I quote:

“So you’re 32 and you don’t have any kids yet?  So you’re selfish then?  You’re a woman, it is your responsibility to have children.  Every man does not necessarily have to have a child but, as a woman, you do.  Right now, while you’re sitting here with your pint and your little job, you are depriving a child the right to human life.  How does that make you feel?”

I proceeded to explain that I felt it was more selfish to sit in a 2 bedroom council flat with no job, pumping out 5 kids who will then be brought up in cramped and poverty-striken conditions, but he was too busy staring at his sister’s tits to pay attention to anything I was saying.

When it comes down to it, money is the issue here and I hate myself for even saying that.  For the majority of our relationship, Billy and I have had no money.  At one point we were living off £30 a week between us.  In order to try to make the situation a bit better, we decided that I would go to University and Billy would take on a second job to pay the bills.  I graduated in 2009 and Billy is now free to start his own business, something he has always wanted to do.  It is only in the past year that we have bought a grown-up house and have money left in our bank account at the end of the month.  Do you have any idea how fun that is?  I’m still not over the novelty of being able to buy something I want for the simple reason that I can.  I just bought this teapot.  Don’t even need it:

All I want is a couple of years to enjoy this feeling before I spend all my free time being skint again and going to coffee mornings slightly drunk on wine and completely covered in shit-spew. I want a god-damn video game room before it gets turned into a nursery.  I want to go on a grunge pilgrimage to Seattle.  I like my boobs, my vagina is top-notch and I wouldn’t mind keeping it that way for a little while longer.  On top of this, I love my job and, right now, cannot bear the thought of leaving it.  I appreciate that there are people out there who can’t have kids, and I may live to regret putting it off for so long, but is having kids because other people can’t have them healthy motivation?  Probably not.

Maybe that sheep-raping Yorkshire dickhead in the bar was right.  Maybe I am selfish.  So what do you do when your head is that of a 14-year-old boy but your body is that of a middle-aged female?  I honestly don’t know.  What I do know is, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t start a family and, let’s be honest, what the world needs in these hard times is a Jillian/Billy combo-human (or ‘Billian’, as they will be known).  I am genuinely excited about one day having a baby, just let me buy a few more pieces of Lionel Ritchie crockery first.

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11 thoughts on “Marriage is for Quitters

  1. Surely if you have a baby and fatten it up on brie (served, of course, on Lionel Ritchie crockery) all you’d need is a sheet of glass et voila! Sumo table that COMES TOWARDS YOU WHEN COMMANDED!

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  2. I gotta say it.
    As a female, that turd you met in that bar is highly offensive.
    The day he shits out a watermelon that then proceeds to attempt to kill itself in imaginative ways for example attempting to die of salmonella by sneaking into the freezer at night and chowing down on frozen chicken nuggets a la Iceland (still convinced that’s not chicken… its more likely to be the aborted remains courtesy of the cheap human traffic labour Iceland employ to keep their prices so fucking low). once the death wish stage is over, they have to deal with the violent, screaming, demanding, selfish stage that generally lasts for about 20 more years.

    Then… THEN after he has done that, THEN he can come and call you selfish because you don’t feel like your womb defines you as a human being.

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    1. You know, I am near impossible to offend but that cock-nugget did almost get me with that one. Not because I care what he thinks, just because he knew nothing about me. What if I couldn’t have kids? He didn’t know that. Those comments could have destroyed some poor woman, he’s lucky it was me. He still tries to talk to me in the bar. I’m like, how about fuck you.

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      1. That is very true. I hope he was so drunk he could have said the same thing to a plant pot otherwise he may up saying it to the wrong person and get punched in his teeny tiny nut sack.

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  3. As someone who is married, has a child, and has given up on life, I can say I do miss the days when I could just go do something at night without having to find someone willing to ruin their night making sure my dumb 2-year-old doesn’t kill himself somehow.
    But having a kid can be fun when you’re willing to ruin its life to teach it to do funny stuff for your amusement. For example, right now Max has learned that he is not allowed to take off his shirt when he changes his clothes unless he sings Kool and The Gang’s “Ladies Night”, because it makes me laugh. It’s no Lionel Richie teapot, but it’s alright.

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    1. Oh my God, that is legend. The derrickman just came in my unit and asked me why I was sitting laughing all alone like a creep. I didn’t feel I could relay the story without sounding like I have a fetish for 2 year old strippers. Well, when we finally do decide to create a person, I will be emailing you for more tips because that one is gold.

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    2. Ah, yeah, there are SOME perks to having kids. I have a 6 year old and this year he has been OBSESSED with ‘Sexy and I know it’. I don’t think I’ve seen anything more hilarious then a skinny white child running into the living room in only his pants (not only that, he chose ones that were a bit too small for him as well), start to gyrate and sing sexy and I know it. I was a shame he chose to do it when i was having a cup of tea coz I nearly scalded him when I burst out laughing….. I’m not sure if I should be worried that I no longer have to teach him these things though.

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