My mom calls me while lost in the ghetto: “I think I’m in middle of – [deep inhale] not good, not good.”
Three kinds of YES!
You know what I have to do today that cannot be put off any longer? Laundry! We’re at the point of no return. I’m wearing glorified jammies around town today. Either I buy new clothes or do some laundry. I can only afford the latter.
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So I should be hearing from UCSF any day now, last year’s applicants heard around December 20th. It probably won’t come before I leave for San Diego on Sunday, therefore TBU will be in charge of obsessing over the contents of the metal box on the street. Hopefully it won’t be too cold for him. I am (trying so hard to be) confident he’ll read my Christmas present over the phone. But seriously? The waiting is forcing me off the edge. I have a final in physiology this Thursday, but since I figured out I could get 0% on the thing and still get a B+ I have at about -22 motivational points. I am trying to psyche myself up to at least get 50% so I can be guaranteed an A. We’ll see. I’ve had a gnawing headache since yesterday and I don’t expect it to go away any time soon. I am either going to be unable to eat or will eat uncontrollably until the letter arrives.
***
I found a new blog to read, it wasn’t very interesting. I stumbled upon it just as she was blogging the birth of her child. It was fairly funny so I checked out her archives and noticed the man she was in love with at the start of the blog was not the same as the man who is the father of her newborn. In the interest of procrastination and my inherent nosiness, I read on. You know what happens when you blog about a boring blog? Your blog is boring.
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I’ll give you a taste of my mom’s Thanksgiving visit. She was massaging my neck and kept telling me to RELAX! I was as relaxed as I could get given the circumstances. Finally, my muscles softened and I felt really relaxed. And then she said, “You should sit up straight so your boobs aren’t at your waist.” As she said this she touched my waist and boobs with the edge of her hand to illustrate her point.
The Millionizer is not joking
PS Can we all just have really positive thoughts about me and a little piece of paper determining my life’s direction and validating all the work I have done over the past year and a half? Please? Just send them all over here. And I gladly accept prayers of any denomination. Thank you.
Writing it down
About Mama Millionizer, she made me want to scream this morning.
I’ll preface this by saying we talk like 30 times a week. No shit, 30 separate phone calls in one week is entirely possible. Sometimes it blows my mind because she’ll complain we’re not in contact enough and I’m like, Woman! are you kidding me? Most of our conversations are me listening to her go on about her meal options, weekend plans, my extended family’s goings on, what she ate for dinner yesterday, what she’ll pick up from the store and blah blah blah. I mean sure, some of the things she mentions are relevant but only the first time. When I’ve heard something for the fourth time in two days it’s pretty difficult for me to feign enthusiasm, sorry, that’s just the way it is. When this happens she usually ends the conversation in some super blamey way, her favorites are, OK well you sound busy, I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing, and Well you sound tired, I’ll let you get some rest. The fact that she says things like that instead of realizing she can’t possibly expect someone to care, makes me want to lose it. I know what you’re thinking, why not just tell her how I’m feeling. That’s a great idea, except I’ve done it several times and each time it has only led to an argument that is basically her telling me she thinks a) we don’t communicate enough b) she feels like she can’t talk to me freely because I criticize what she says and how she says it c) other random things she wants me to feel guilty about.
As far as us not communicating enough, I think she actually means I don’t live with her enough. She never fails to mention that our conversations are of a lesser quality than she desires. I have two things to say to this, 1) I try to talk to her and tell her all those little things that pop up in life. Very often she’s so busy going on about her end of the conversation she doesn’t even hear me, or she has to go, or she offers a disinterested, Oh that’s nice. What does she want from me? 2) With the sheer number of daily conversations we have, of course the quality is lacking! We talk three or more times per day, I don’t have that much quality going on in my life to warrant that many conversations, and frankly, neither does she.
Which leads us to the fact that she thinks she can’t speak freely to me because I tell her she’s mentioned something fourteen times. She doesn’t realize she’s being a hypocrite when she gets angry at me for telling her I don’t want to hear about what a bitch my grandma is. Believe me, I know that woman is out of control and I am well versed in this current episode of her bitchiness, I just don’t need to do the whole song and dance again. I can’t speak freely with her so I don’t. I just listen to her and grunt where appropriate, laugh on cue and do my best. Not all of our conversations are like this, but a lot are. And it is incredibly irritating.
So this morning I called her on the way to class, like I always do. It went like this.
ME: Hi, Mom!
MM: Oh, I haven’t heard from you in a while.
What the hell? Today is only Tuesday and we talked on Saturday. Saturday! And during that conversation I reminded her I was going to be in Tahoe for a couple nights. And if I had called her on her ridiculousness, like I wanted to, it would have ruined both of our days. There is no winning this battle.
Tags: w