laryngitis, mother-in-law, and me

I am voiceless. I was hoarse on Sat. afternoon and felt something coming on, and I woke up Sunday to full-blown laryngitis. My visiting mother-in-law (leaving today) said a couple of times that I'd lost my voice because I went to a bar, which annoying, but on the other hand, that was the most annoying thing from her visit, so that's a successful visit overall.

Success in this instance is measured by the fact that I didn't go into a rage or stop speaking to my husband. I would be on speaking terms with him at the moment if I hadn't lost my voice (I'm reminded of one of my favorite friends, who says that when her husband's parents visit, they should stop talking to each other because by the end of the visit, they are just hissing insults at each other under their breath).

I did get out of the house alone on Saturday night, and I was in the enviable but difficult situation of choosing between two birthday parties. An old attorney friend of mine was having a big birthday bash at the Ramp, an old-school semi-sleazy outdoor bar/restaurant on the less fashionable part of the water, and one of my favorite mommy friends was having a party at the latest hip eating spot, Nopa. I had already RSVPed to the Nopa party before I got the details of the Ramp party, and it is one of the biggest etiquette sins in the world to cancel attending one social outing to go to another one instead. So I never considered going to my other friend's party. I'd have made appearances at both if they weren't so far apart geographically. Anton tried to talk me into going to the Ramp party instead on the basis that it was a milestone birthday for that friend, whereas it was a run-of-the-mill birthday for the other one, but I think it was only because he was invited to the Ramp party as well but not the Nopa one (chicks only, no husbands, no children). I think he had some daydream that we'd leave the children at home with his mother and run off and get drunk and have sex in the bathroom, but instead I was dining, drinking and dancing until bar closing time with a crew of stylish mommies, predominately hard-drinking stay-at-home mothers.

The topic of rejecting men due to shortness came up. I polled the women at my end of the table as to how tall was the shortest man they'd slept with. The answer was 5'10", which is not short. No one would cop to having slept with anyone under that. I'm working on a theory that tall is to women what fat is to men, but it's not spoken about so much. Men think we're all about penis size, but if the typical woman had to choose between a tall man with a unremarkable penis and a short, well-hung man, she'd go for the tall guy. We get pissy about ugly guys who have a "no fat chicks" attitude, but meanwhile, we're rejecting short guys, even ones with delightful personalities. I couldn't get anyone to admit she would pick the tall, underhung guy over a short one, though, as everyone insisted they had to have a tall and well-hung man. "Of course we all want a man who is tall, has a big dick, a sense of humor, a lot of money and no mother," I said, "but we can't have every thing."

It absolutely horrified another woman that I would think being motherless is a good thing in a man. "Mothers are so great. Don't you think you have something to learn from every mother?"

Of course, she was the only single woman at the table. "Here's what I've learned from my two mothers-in-law," I said boozily. "How to be patient when there's an annoying person in your house." (Sidenote: to give my current mother-in-law credit, she has been learning over the last couple of years how to be less annoying to a bitchy daughter-in-law and how to adapt to the reality that her son intends to stay married to the irritating bitchy woman). Another friend said, "I learned how not to make the crazy person mad! 'Don't set off the crazy person!' That's what I learned!" (dissolving into laughter which was clearly originating in a defensive mechanism to some huge trauma).