Wednesday, January 28, 2009

It's Just Dawned On Me...

When I was 12 or 13, I distinctly recall wanting to be married with kids by the time I was 21.

I remember making that statement as if I'd said it yesterday, and it was borne mainly out of the fact that my Dad was in his Fifties then and being all doddery. I wanted to be a 'hip' Dad, and not an old father who needed his replaced.

It never occurred to me that life doesn't always follow a set pattern, although we all subscribe to it in one form or another; job + house + partner = marriage and several bald, shitting, sleeping vomitmachines.

That was all I wanted in life, and it comes as quite a shock to be hurtling towards THIRTY-FUCKING-FIVE this year not massively fulfilled at work, renting a flat above a chemists to an anonymous greedy fucksicle, totally bereft of a loving woman, and where the only bald, shitting, sleeping vomitmachine near me supports Nottingham Forest and pays half the rent.

This vague wandering through life could well by the source of my 'depression'.

In fact, I'll quantify that: It is the source of my depression, without a doubt.

I realise now that it was a tad fanciful of me to want to be married with kids that would now be 14. I can't even comprehend how I'd guide these teenagers through life when I can barely do it myself.

Nonetheless, to paraphrase Gabrielle and make it less positive, dreams don't come true, and I didn't follow that path (thankfully). I'm rather glad I stumbled through my Twenties unwed, although more sex wouldn't have gone amiss. But it has to be said that the Thirties really do feel like the settle-down zone, particularly as about half a dozen friends of mine got married last year and babies are now starting to appear.

In some way, I'm pleased I still have my independence. And in thinking about this strange parallel life I could've had, there's no doubt in my mind that this blog - if it existed - would DEFINITELY be bitching about my sodding children while I remained shackled to my mortgage and whatever job I had.

The jury's out on what my wife would be like, though.

So here I am, bitching about my insignificant life while Gaza's fucked beyond all hope, where desperate people are at the mercy of ignorant fucktards who just can't stop antagonising a bad-tempered, morally dubious army with their very, very big rockets during a fragile ceasefire.

Where 51 million jobs will disappear this year, and the entire planet's economic growth hasn't been this bad since the entire planet was at war with itself (for the second time).

And where, in this brave new world of financial ruin, racial divisions, and my bad back, Jeffrey Archer still steadfastly refuses to kill himself.

I'm seeing a physio tomorrow.

And I'm not that depressed, just slightly introspective.


If there's one good thing about getting old, it's the realisation that I'd better get my thumb outta my ass, once and for all and before it's too late. (Thank you America, for your delightful expressions).

2009: It's Ass Extraction time.

And to celebrate, here's a picture of a man who looks like a thumb...



Huw said...

Jesus Christ, I want more Thumb Man.

Unless you can exert any influence in Gaza, I say feel free to whinge away.

Peach said...

worse you could have thought you were about to settle down with the love of your life and you had money and a house and then BAM you're a jobless, homeless, single parent and living with your parents and the screaming bald child...

sas said...

Not to get all Pollyanna on your ass, but I do think there is something to be said for gratitude in offering some perspective.

Thumb Man is fucking brilliant.

The Unbearable Banishment said...

If you really wanted a wife and children by the time you were 21, you’d better THANK GOD that life doesn’t always follow a set pattern! Live at your own pace. I didn’t get married until I was 39 and didn’t have a daughter until I was 41. That was by design, not accident, and it’s worked out just fine for me. Forget the timetables. They don’t work.

Was that picture doctored in Photoshop or does he really look like that?

heybartender said...

That guy also looks like the blow-up doll/ autopilot from the original Airplane! movie, doesn't he?

Anonymous said...

i started breeding at 24, and at 46 they are both now at university... but... i'm now somewhat tired, brittle, and unfit for being single and adventurous. i need naps after updating facebook for fuckssake...

waiting til your older? many advantages... you get all the fun, gnarly shit out of your system while you body can take it. 46 year old women should NOT be attempting kegstands... it's just kinda pathetic. which is why is stopped at 45...

timetables? shake it off, man... be what you need to be today...

Anonymous said...

oh, yeah... bring on more thumb-man.

Trixie said...

Grass is always greener mate. You jump the fence, and realise you prefered your old patch of grass.

Denim Boy said...

You can imagine my joy after months of missing your blog to come back and find that you are still whinging.

And thank Christ there are no baby Fwengs running around. Keep the thumb up your arse and kids out of the equation.

No one wants to read about dirty nappies.

i am not your freud said...

i think this was one of your funniest posts. thumbman is hilarious.

i also wanted to be a young parent until i realized that i actually can't stand children... yet.

Z said...

I was a young parent, and look how I've turned out.

And 34 isn't getting old,you're just hitting your stride. I agree with you, time to make some choices.

looby said...

The photo is evidence of the amazingly tolerant nature of women. I mean, they all look twattish and yet they still manage to somehow be around attractive brunettes.

I'm wondering about whether that cup of tea with D ever came off and also mindful that I should probably keep my nose out.

fwengebola said...

Huw ~ You want more thumbman? That fucker's in my nightmares.
Peach ~ HELLO! And, erm, oh god. Yes, perspective is a bugger. But at least you've got your health. You have got your health, haven't you?
Sas ~ Why thank you. Wait, what?
Ub ~ Yes, but I'm rather forming the impression that you'd spent those formative years making a sucess of your life.
Sadly for humanity, I think no digi-pokery was involved.
HB ~ HOLY FUCK! All he needs is a blue cap.
df ~ Breeding? Yechh. Havin' pups. Much nicer. Something tells me that by the time I 'settle down', no amount of carnage up til then will feel enough.
df ~ And no.
Trix ~ Yes, that's shit. Why does that happen?
DB ~ oh look, you're back from deviant fornication. Did you really expect me to be sorted by now? Pah!
E ~ Jesus, really? Thanks. And you love kids. I can hear your bodyclock from London.
Z ~ Are you advocating it? And unless 'hitting' means crying, and 'your stride' means alone then yes, I'm hitting my stride.
loo ~ In fairness any woman next to that lot would come out looking like Elle Macpherson.
And no, no tea was had. Don't start.

i am not your freud said...

yes i laughed while reading it. i like some kids occasionally. i can't even dream of having one of my own but i will some day, i guess. body clock? dude i'm only 24... for another 8 days. boooo

luna said...

At least you haven't come out to yourself.

fwengebola said...

Elif ~ Your body clock should be kicking in right about now, then.
Luna ~ So failing to meet the right woman makes me gay. Of course. It's so obvious.