In which my mother acts like my mother

Readers, all three of you, because this is a secret blog, in spite of kungfuramone having linked it, I feel comfortable bitching about my mother.

First I'll tell you what fun I'm having now. I'm reorganizing some word label documents into three new label documents... but I'm doing it in a corner executive office, and guess what's out my window? Yes, that sparkly gorgeous tree. I'm on a level with the Swarovski Star. The trick to these things is to be quite literally above it all. (Mike, now are you SURE hating on Christmas isn't just bad? I think I'm a little bit bad. Also, hi!)

Last night my mother took me to the "Penn Club" for dinner and then to a play reading, a comedy about holocaust survivors living in the boroughs. As we walked in the frigid frigid air I told her I was looking forward to a date I'm going on tonight. She had all kinds of weird stuff to say on that topic but I asked for it. Is the following kind? I think it is: Mom: I think you should just keep up doing everything alone. I told my friends you were living with an alcoholic boyfriend but you broke up with him and moved out and haven't had a boyfriend since and they thought that was really cool. (She also told them I was going out with Snoop Dog. Me: Mother!)

I try not to be sardonic to my mother, but I don't try very hard and it is just my default reaction. I mean, it's very hard to say anything to the above, pretty sweet comment really, besides "Un-hunh. Really cool" sarcastically. I told her I was looking forward to a date i have tonight because the person and I are being set up after years of being told we're incredibly alike and she said "No, I don't want to say it. You'll get Uptight" I said, "No, go ahead." She said, "It won't work. That would be two narcissists. You want someone complementary."

At the Penn Club we did the absolutely prescribed and necessary obsession with image food and weight just like a Cathy cartoon. Charming. I told her I think she'd look great with a boob lift. She told me to straighten my teeth. I told her again not to hold her breath for me to get braces. She asked what I weigh. I told her for the, really, hundredth time that I do not have a scale. She sent back her food and instead ordered iceberg lettuce. I could not make that up.

Overall it went well! I used to think my mother must be the craziest in all the land but it's funny that now it's clear she was only really run of the mill damaging and oblivion is not really on a par with cruelty. She's never going to really listen to me in a connected way -- she herself doens't communicate that way - in a connected way I mean - so that would be not really possible. She's not going to hear what I'm saying when she's buzzing around all over the place. But she's just a mess -- what can you do and it has its cute moments, I swear.