... and my Uncle is vastly amused - in fact let us do it justice - he is v-a-s-t-l-y a-m-u-s-e-d - that my mother thinks I am so much better for my overnight visit to see them, rather than my overnight visit to listen to the ever so delightful Mike Noga, Dan Luscombe and Glenn Richards.
*happy sigh at just thinking about it*
She thinks he seemed subdued today at their weekly lunch that they will be away for 42 days on a cruise. He was just last night rubbing his hands gleefully that they would be away so long. In case, I could not hear it over the phone he told me - lol.
I have bit my tongue clean through.
He has confided that he thinks he could handly the weekly lunches so much better, if they happened monthly or at worst fortnightly.
I no doubt give the wrong impression.
My mother is a very good woman.
She has the best, best, of intentions.
But she is a selfish woman inflicting kind acts on the unwilling and therefore, it is very hard to be grateful. She only does what she wants to do, and not what you would want her to do, if you were comfortable enough to ask for assistance. She will not even perform simple errands that do not take her out of her way for others.
People who know me and who have met my mother have been aghast at the way I have spoken of her, until they have spent time with her, and then I cannot deny I am sad when their opinions change. I would like to think it is just that I am a mean and selfish daughter.
Currently I have been unhappy with my workplace and have since quit. She vasiliates between making me feel stupid for leaving, or stupid for not begging for a job back, to encouraging me because she has always wanted me to move back in her.
At the moment, because she is about to go away (a month ago it was different), she is in the making me feel stupid and like I should beg for my job back.
This is what she did at my first job which I wanted to quit in the first week. Even though she knew they were bad employers. She liked hearing the gossip about their personal life.
I would burst into hysterical tears and have to go off into a quiet place for a year after if anybody mentioned their names. I didn't even get to leave in good standing, such as I make too much effort to in all other jobs after. I broke one afternoon and just hopped on my bike and left and she made me go back after Christmas holidays as if nothing had happened. I have never been so humiliated in my life. At least, not since.
I remember riding around town considering the large concrete tubes in the public parks and thinking about whether I would ever go home again. But in the end I was too chicken to choose homelessness. I wonder sometimes what kind of person I would be if I had made different decisions.
However, regardless of my dream idea of independance, if I had I would not be getting to go see my thoroughly delightful niece perform in the local estedford (sp?) and would be much the poorer for it. Even if group mime apparently allows performers to make sounds and use props. Though I cannot deny I would be very interested in looking at the rulebook.
I just hope that next year the group get stuck in a box and have to battle against a strong wind because fuck me this is not my idea of a mime.