Wednesday, February 10, 2010


You know you're in the midst of a major transition when you've got too much metaphorical shit on your plate, yet you don't have the time to get stressed.

Okay, that stressed.

At the moment, I feel like I'm in a real life version of Touch the Truck, except I'm the only contestant, and there's no truck - so really the only comparison with sleep-depriving gameshows where you can win a truck you've been touching is that good things await me if I can just stay alert.

Today, I applied for a mortgage. This is to pay for the flat I first saw four days ago and put one thousand pounds towards the very next day, just a couple of hours before attending a barmitzvah I didn't want to go to.

I thought I'd end up leaving said barmitzvah pleased that I'd done my familial duty, but I didn't. Instead I felt wretched, and crap. I couldn't have felt more out-of-place if I'd arrived dressed as a pig, drunk and pissing on my shoes as I sniffed coke off the tip of a bus pass and yelled, 'which one of you Jews wants a fight?'

It didn't help that the event was Black Tie and, well, I forgot. I was buying a place to live, okay?? Thus, I was the only man there in a light grey office suit, one that sliced violently into my guts because I have a) gained weight, due to being a b) cunt.

On the plus side, I wasn't the only one in restrictive clothing, having earlier forced my own father's pregnant stomach into his childsize dinnersuit trousers.

But that moment of schadenfreude was the only highlight. I was at first thrilled to see my Uncle, my father's brother with that same cheeky grin, after so many years absence, only to wish I was elsewhere as I watched him scan the room for anyone else just 20 seconds after I shook hands and started to talk. I was soon palmed off to people more my age who I last saw in 1986, indulging me as I sweated and talked about work.

I was sat next to a lesbian at dinner. This made a change as her opening words to me as soon as I sat down, and let me make this abundantly clear:- as I literally pulled my chair out from under the table and said hello, was some totally unnecessary comment about "her girlfriend", the gay equivalent of "Look, I've got a boyfriend, so don't even think about it."

As the food came out, no-one was particularly interested in anything I had to say, so I wound up brooding in silence as a viciously tight suit cut into my balls. I did attempt chatting as the lady to my left gossiped with the lesbian on my right, but it was clear they preferred holding a conversation over a strange man's head to letting him join in.

Then the speeches kicked in. Now call me old fashioned, but I ain't impressed with 13-year-old boys announcing to a dinner party that "Tonight, I am a man," particularly when three days earlier, he'd probably cried his fucking eyes out because he'd reached his highest ever level in World of Warcraft before getting killed by an elf.

Nor was I impressed with the boys that preceded him, telling us that they'd known the Barmitzvah for as long as they could remember (i.e. just under a decade), and that he's a stand-up kinda guy. He doesn't shave yet, but by golly if your balls are on the line, he'll kick some ass, presumably.

And as I watched his younger sister make her speech (she's 9), all I could see in my mind's eye was a middle-aged and heavily botoxed woman thrusting a plate at a waiter and bellowing at him to take it back.

The evening tailed off as I refused to dance, spent a lot of the time on my phone outside, and chatted to my Dad about dousing my anus with witch hazel gel to ease the bleeding. I did, however, drink a lot of scotch. It was a free bar after all, and possibly the only one in London (with the exception of other barmitzvahs) with no queue.

This made Monday back at work hell, and trying to negotiate a mortgage without my boss noticing wasn't easy, but then neither is pretending that my fat thighs haven't rubbed two vast holes into the gusset of my jeans. I can't wash them as the holes will get bigger, so I'm intending to by a new pair except I haven't, because I'm attending fucking barmitzvahs and buying houses and I'm overwhelmingly stressed but I appear to be on some strange kind of autopilot that's preventing me from breaking down again and crying.

And in the meantime, my American ex sent me some innocuous, bland email which I casually replied to, mentioning my utter disgust at her attempt to wind me up and/ or make me jealous. She somehow took the moral high ground over this, and now isn't talking to me.

But on the plus side, I've grown a goatee.


Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

You put the words 'World of Warcraft' and 'goatee' in the same blog. I'm worried there's a big hobby you're leaving out of your posts.

Has spider solitaire = usurped by WOW

Anonymous said...

if you called out the American ex-girlfriend for her transparent behaviour then you've grown more than a goatee, my friend! well done! celebrate the little things...

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Ms. Daisy is 100% correct, as she almost always is. You're better off without the AmEx in your life.

Big Artie Lange fan, I see.

Mad Cat Lady said...

But at least your fly didn't burst as my brother-in-law's did at my grandmother's funeral after squeezing into appropriately coloured trousers not worn for a long time :)

Blue soup said...

Ah Fweng. I really love you. Lets go and make babies.

Z said...

Announcing that "Tonight, I am a man" is quite enough to demonstrate that he isn't. Of course, my feelings on the matter are skewed by being the type of mother who spent my children't childhoods stopping them showing off, but those two sound quite like little wannabe total wankers.

I do hope you are not too fond of them. Apologies, if so. Or even if you're particularly attached to their parents. Maybe I shouldn't have started this at all.

Highly enjoyable post, anyway.

Z said...

Children's. Obv. Damn.

C said...

I object to facial hair on anyone but myself.

i am not your freud said...

way to go fweng! good luck with the whole buying a flat thing

Angela-la-la said...

You say goatee but don't mention where... curious minds need to know!

Shades of Grey said...

All this and still not smoking. Impressed.

looby said...

I also felt nervous at the point at which Miss America emailed you. She's fucking with you Fweng and seems to be annopyed that you're not letting her do it any more. Carry on like this. Take advantage of your power over her, like she has done over you lately.

Apart from that. Fucking funny, and I'd buy you a drink.

Anonymous said...

Happy Hallmark day.

nursemyra said...

goatees are good

Anonymous said...

I've been there with the jeans. Congrats on the goatee... oh, and the flat.

luna said...

This is all boring and besides the point.
Tell us about the flat:where is it?
In golders Green,:D ? Bet not.
What's it look like?
How did you manage to make up your mind,you who are the forever dithering kind?

The AmEx haha ,good tag,I'm glad she's out.

So when's the big warming house party then?

fwengebola said...

PDEWYMO ~ WOW is up there with The Sims, and crack, in that I'm scared to try any of them as I'm pretty sure I'll get addicted.
Df ~ Bollocks? Are you saying I've grown bollocks? Okay, I'll take it as read that I now have bollocks, and I thank you for them.
UB ~ I'd acturally written 'Pork Chop outfit', but 'pig' was just neater. Except of course it has parallels with the Pig Story, as you rightly point out, and now I look like I've plagarised it. Damn.
MCL ~ Oh shit, it wasn't during the eulogy, was it?
Blue ~ That's sarcasm. You're being sarcastic, right? You'll need to spell it out for me. I'm afraid I'm male.
Z ~ In his defence, the barmitzvah is a male coming of age, so it's a normal comment, if woefully untrue nowadays.
But I never see these cousins, so you're quite safe on that count.
C ~ Oh hurrah! You're back! And being worryingly hirsute.
IANYF ~ Yay me. And it's a painfully slow and confusing series of thick documents, and demands for money.
Ang ~ Bloody hell, are you back? Hello. How are you?
It's above my penis. It's a penis goatee.
ShoG ~ Oh hello there. Yes, well I'm getting fidgety, but that's just my personal gremlins trying to annoy me. Thanks, though.
Loob ~ Oh, taking advantage of power stuff is mean. But she's being an arse and I'll have a pint of bitter, thank you.
Anon ~ I really hope you're not spam. I'm getting a lot of those lately.
NM ~ Oh hello. Are you attractive and not very fussy?
WTW ~ Yes, it is indeed a time for congratulations all round. My jeans have holes, I've got facial hair, etc...
Luna ~ Well I can't afford Goldbergs, so that's that out. It's 'somewhere else', a brand new cheesy development, and pretty good for pathetic bachelors. It's not actually big enough for house warming, but should be okay for a series of small dinner gatherings, a couple of couples at a time.
1-bed. Got stamp duty knocked off.

Blue soup said...

That wasn't sarcasm. I was chuckling and had I said it out loud, it would have been said through a 'sort-of-sigh'. Like, aaaah. This doesn't come across very well through text.


fwengebola said...

I'm still trying to work out what it was in my post that makes you want my genetic material.

fwengebola said...

Now I feel guilty about being flippant. What I meant to say was Thank you for wanting my babies.
They're on BOGOF today too.

I have no idea what I'm talking about.

digressica said...

Re: the ex - good for you, slick. Now if you can only prevent yourself from ever contacting her again, you'll be one step closer to Not Totally Mental.

Re: barmitzvah, AWESOME. I want to go to a barmitzvah. Jewish things are fun. Well... I can't really back that statement up. I've only had actual contact with one Jewish thing, and that was my former housemate. But if she is any indication, Jewish things are FUN. When I move back to London, you should definitely invite me to a barmitzvah, should one happen to pop up. It will be hilarious, for reals. I know all the words to Hava Nagila. (I'm not fucking kidding.)

digressica said...


fwengebola said...

Jewish things are fun? You obviously haven't met my Dad.
Sadly, if I'm ever invited to a barmitzvah again, I'll be pretending to be dead.
The words to Hava Nagila are very easy: "Hava Nagila, Hava Nagila, Hava Nagila, (mumble mumble mumble)"

And thanks for the clip. Four viewings later and I'm still none the wiser.

Mad Cat Lady said...

Sadly not :)

He stood with hands clasping a piece of paper (the little pamphlet/agenda they hand out with the songs and responses for during the mass) in front of him for the rest of the service and the meet and greet afterwards and all the little old ladies were complimenting my mother on such a fine respectful son-in-law.

fwengebola said...

You mean hands clasped onto list of service = Respect? He'd go down a storm in some kind of mafia collective.