Non-fiction week rolls on…and what’s more telling than a tattoo. Yes, I’m stretching, whatever.
After I wrote something ostensibly critical of my mother, some of you wrote to me.
Here’s one such e-mail I received.
Got no clue why you is slamming your moms like that.
Grow up and take responsibility. Your problems are your problems.
Despite the fact that I made up these e-mails, the challenge had been issued. I enjoy talking about my mother. She’s the woman who raised me. She’s infinitely kind and infinitely crazy. She was never a born caregiver but she learned it pretty good. She worked when I was a kid, but since I had tunnel vision anyway she could have been a local paragon and I would have had no clue.
Anyway, the fantasy world met real life this Tuesday as my parents sat down in their living room–currently being painted at the moment–and watched the most recent episode of Gilmore Girls.
For those who aren’t ardent viewers, Lorelai recently married Christopher, who was the father of her daughter, after breaking up with her one true love. This week, Lorelai finally broke up with him and ended the marriage, conceding that she had wanted to make her fantasy of it work, but that she did not really want him.
My parents watched this. Afterwards, my mother says, my father became very upset.
Apparently, the content of Lorelai’s speech to Christopher hit home with my dad. Both my parents attended Rutgers University. While there, my mom wrote a long letter to my dad breaking up with him, because she was dating too guys. The content of that long ago letter was basically Lorelai’s speech. My mom was also dating this guy named Jim, so she dumped my dad for Jim.
I don’t know exactly what happened (problems in the bedroom?) but fate took my mother in a different direction and my parents reunited.
In a weird twist of fate, my mother heard from a college friend this week that the famous challenger for my mother’s love–Jim–had died. She doesn’t know how yet, but he left behind a wife and two kids. Very sad.
Anyway, back to my dad. My mother was like, “Why are you so upset about this?”
My dad was like, “What she told him was bullshit!” He gets really pissed off. My dad has anger issues, too.
I was like, “Mom, what did you write in that letter?”
She was like, “Uh…the reasons I couldn’t be with him.”
I was like, “Amazingly, you didn’t even know any of the real reasons, like his inability to express his emotions, his constant repression of his anger, his…”
My mom was like, “Point taken.”
So you can see why I no longer know what real life really is.
“Sophia” — Nerina Pallot (a personal favorite. you should download it. you means you.)
“Halfway Home” — Nerina Pallot
“Everyone’s Going to War” — Nerina Pallot
“Learning to Breathe” — Nerina Pallot
Also this week: Our annual (yes, I know I started blogging in november) look at the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue from the words of the very men who lived through it, I testify about a horrifying childhood incident to close out non-fiction week, and we review two important blogs and the women who wrote them.
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