Confirmation of Humidity and Small Progress
It's official. My parents are moving to Florida. My dad starts work next Monday. Their house is on the market. Their tv and treadmill are sold. My mother hates the heat even more than I do. Their FPL bill is going to be sky high.
In (m)other news, I may have made small progress in my Please Don't Suffocate Me Campaign. What the people who read my blog may not realize is that my mother used to comment anonymously. Of course, I could tell when it was her. At first, I left her comments. When she started attacking my friends, I started deleting her comments and got in the habit of always doing that.
So every couple of months my mother will send me one long e-mail full of comments to multiple blog entries. This pisses me off. So I told her.
From: Zoe@aol.com
To: ZoesMom@yahoo.com
Sent: Friday, November 03, 2006 1:41 AM
Subject: Re: Comments from last time
Mom,
While I appreciate your interest in me and my life, this is the type of thing that feels suffocating. I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings - that's not my intent at all. But this hurts me so much. It feels invasive.
Zoe
In a message dated 11/3/2006 5:37:08 AM Pacific Standard Time, ZoesMom@yahoo.com writes:
Firstly, OK. Next,a question: why does it bother you so much to get my comments but not other peoples?
If you don't know my mother, it would seem okay for a mother to see her daughter in a diner and come over. And if I did run into my mother, it WOULD be okay for her to come over. The problem is, I think in the above fictional situation, a mother should come over, say hello, chat for a couple of minutes, and then excuse herself. My mother would come over, make people move because she wants to sit next to me, ask what we're ordering, ask if I'm wearing the earrings that used to be my grandma's, ask why I chose to do my hair that way, and say embarrassing things to my friends or about me. She would ask me things in front of them that should only be asked in private, IF they should be asked at all. My mother is the type to reference things in a group that only one other person would know about, thus leaving everyone else out.
This is the mother who, upon hearing me say to a hair stylist in New York, "I think I'm bored with my hair" suggested, "Or you're bored with your life." So yeah, I don't really want her where my friends are. While I know friends understand that mothers can be muthas, and my friends are good enough people to not judge me based on my mother, just ... no.
In (m)other news, I may have made small progress in my Please Don't Suffocate Me Campaign. What the people who read my blog may not realize is that my mother used to comment anonymously. Of course, I could tell when it was her. At first, I left her comments. When she started attacking my friends, I started deleting her comments and got in the habit of always doing that.
So every couple of months my mother will send me one long e-mail full of comments to multiple blog entries. This pisses me off. So I told her.
From: Zoe@aol.com
To: ZoesMom@yahoo.com
Sent: Friday, November 03, 2006 1:41 AM
Subject: Re: Comments from last time
Mom,
While I appreciate your interest in me and my life, this is the type of thing that feels suffocating. I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings - that's not my intent at all. But this hurts me so much. It feels invasive.
Zoe
In a message dated 11/3/2006 5:37:08 AM Pacific Standard Time, ZoesMom@yahoo.com writes:
Firstly, OK. Next,a question: why does it bother you so much to get my comments but not other peoples?
Because I never wanted you involved in my blog. It was something I came up with the idea to do on my own. I designed it, I create all the content, I did all the research. It's all mine, and I specifically thought about telling family about it, and ultimately didn't want to. Your commenting is like you coming in to the diner, seeing me talking with friends, and sitting down at my table like you belong there.
If you don't know my mother, it would seem okay for a mother to see her daughter in a diner and come over. And if I did run into my mother, it WOULD be okay for her to come over. The problem is, I think in the above fictional situation, a mother should come over, say hello, chat for a couple of minutes, and then excuse herself. My mother would come over, make people move because she wants to sit next to me, ask what we're ordering, ask if I'm wearing the earrings that used to be my grandma's, ask why I chose to do my hair that way, and say embarrassing things to my friends or about me. She would ask me things in front of them that should only be asked in private, IF they should be asked at all. My mother is the type to reference things in a group that only one other person would know about, thus leaving everyone else out.
This is the mother who, upon hearing me say to a hair stylist in New York, "I think I'm bored with my hair" suggested, "Or you're bored with your life." So yeah, I don't really want her where my friends are. While I know friends understand that mothers can be muthas, and my friends are good enough people to not judge me based on my mother, just ... no.
posted by Zoe @ 6:46 AM
2 Comments:
At 11/08/2006 5:46 PM,
Unemployed Nurse Jack said…
I realize that as I read your posts, I picture your mother as a cross between George Costanza's mom and Joan Crawford.
Florida, huh? Are you just hoping like hell she makes friends and becomes socially engaged in someone else's life besides yours? Or will she engage in retiree bitch-offs about who has the worst kid?
She's really missing a lot by playing these games with you. As always, I'm sorry.
At 11/09/2006 8:24 AM,
Zoe said…
My mother will not make friends. She hasn't had friends in years, and moving to a climate where the heat smacks you in the face when you walk out your front door is not conducive to her standing on the sidewalk chatting with neighbors. They aren't moving here to retire - they're moving because my dad was finally able to get a job, and the job happens to be in Geezerville.
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