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Spent some time with Mom today. Got a chance to spend a little time with the rest of the family, too, as we all met up at the grandparents' so Mom and Lenny (my stepfather) could pick up a generator for their house. Lenny said that my black Bosox cap is thisclose to being a Yankee cap 'cos of the color. =P This from the man who indirectly led me to the Sox in the first place. Honestly. Also, Yankee caps are navy blue. Well, the traditionally colored ones are, anyway.
Then Mom and I had a terrible time trying to find someplace to eat. Going out to lunch on Sunday can be surprisingly difficult. One place is closed and another place doesn't exist and this and that and the other thing. We ended up eating in two parts; we found a place that served breakfast and did not want breakfast, so we ate a muffin and some homefries, then went to the Portland Public Market and had lunchy food. I found banana Pocky! New flavors of Pocky are so exciting.
Then we went to the mall and I returned my defective Wells shirt to Olympia Sports. The guys at the counter were simultaneously amused and annoyed to discover that they had an entire shipment of incorrect shirts. Ha.
Then we sat in the food court with pastries and coffee and discussed, not for the first time, how the oldest child is the guinea pig and cannot possibly escape childhood without being scarred. Then we talked about stuff that results from that. When I was younger, Mom used to ask me questions (mostly of the "why" variety) to try to make me explain things to her. I wouldn't know what to say, either because they were the sort of unanswerable questions that parents ask their children, or because I would think that the answer would make her mad and I'd be unable to back up whatever it was I'd said, so I would stand there and stare at her. Eventually, I figured out that when I did that, the "conversation" would inevitably end because she'd get pissed and give up, so I started doing it on purpose.
These days, we can actually talk about things, because I am more able to articulate myself and she is more able to listen. (I didn't get that fear of having my point torn to pieces out of the blue, you know.) And that's much nicer, really. Don't get the wrong idea - aside from a year or so when I was eighteen and hated everyone, including myself, my mom and I have always had a great relationship. During adolescence, when teenage girls are practically required by law to turn on their mothers, I would listen to other girls talk about how much their moms sucked and be kind of pitying and a lot amazed that they could say such things. (I told my mother I hated her exactly once. Then I stopped, heard how stunningly melodramatic I'd sounded, cracked the fuck up, and never did it again.) So, aside from the usual parent/child clashes, things were always good. Until Mom would try to make me say something I didn't want to say.
I'm not sure what the point of all that was, except that damn this post was boring, and that conversation was a good one because we talked about things that kind of needed to be talked about. Right in the middle of the mall food court. =D
Then I messed up her cell phone - though I did manage to talk to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comme_un_buddha for a few minutes, and whoops, sorry I never got around to calling you back, I kind of got sucked into some good RP - and then we left.
Yep. The end. *awkward*
You can tell how long it's been since I made a post about, like, my life, rather than baseball, when I actually forget how to do it.
Goals to achieve on tomorrow's day off:
* Buy food.
* Deposit paycheck at bank.
* Watch shiny new copy of Huckabees.
* Work on lyricwheel fic.
Things likely to be accomplished tomorrow:
* Wake up.
* Have coffee.
* Spend ten or eleven hours doing nothing online.
My computer has EATEN MY SOUL.
Then Mom and I had a terrible time trying to find someplace to eat. Going out to lunch on Sunday can be surprisingly difficult. One place is closed and another place doesn't exist and this and that and the other thing. We ended up eating in two parts; we found a place that served breakfast and did not want breakfast, so we ate a muffin and some homefries, then went to the Portland Public Market and had lunchy food. I found banana Pocky! New flavors of Pocky are so exciting.
Then we went to the mall and I returned my defective Wells shirt to Olympia Sports. The guys at the counter were simultaneously amused and annoyed to discover that they had an entire shipment of incorrect shirts. Ha.
Then we sat in the food court with pastries and coffee and discussed, not for the first time, how the oldest child is the guinea pig and cannot possibly escape childhood without being scarred. Then we talked about stuff that results from that. When I was younger, Mom used to ask me questions (mostly of the "why" variety) to try to make me explain things to her. I wouldn't know what to say, either because they were the sort of unanswerable questions that parents ask their children, or because I would think that the answer would make her mad and I'd be unable to back up whatever it was I'd said, so I would stand there and stare at her. Eventually, I figured out that when I did that, the "conversation" would inevitably end because she'd get pissed and give up, so I started doing it on purpose.
These days, we can actually talk about things, because I am more able to articulate myself and she is more able to listen. (I didn't get that fear of having my point torn to pieces out of the blue, you know.) And that's much nicer, really. Don't get the wrong idea - aside from a year or so when I was eighteen and hated everyone, including myself, my mom and I have always had a great relationship. During adolescence, when teenage girls are practically required by law to turn on their mothers, I would listen to other girls talk about how much their moms sucked and be kind of pitying and a lot amazed that they could say such things. (I told my mother I hated her exactly once. Then I stopped, heard how stunningly melodramatic I'd sounded, cracked the fuck up, and never did it again.) So, aside from the usual parent/child clashes, things were always good. Until Mom would try to make me say something I didn't want to say.
I'm not sure what the point of all that was, except that damn this post was boring, and that conversation was a good one because we talked about things that kind of needed to be talked about. Right in the middle of the mall food court. =D
Then I messed up her cell phone - though I did manage to talk to
comme_un_buddha for a few minutes, and whoops, sorry I never got around to calling you back, I kind of got sucked into some good RP - and then we left.Yep. The end. *awkward*
You can tell how long it's been since I made a post about, like, my life, rather than baseball, when I actually forget how to do it.
Goals to achieve on tomorrow's day off:
* Buy food.
* Deposit paycheck at bank.
* Watch shiny new copy of Huckabees.
* Work on lyricwheel fic.
Things likely to be accomplished tomorrow:
* Wake up.
* Have coffee.
* Spend ten or eleven hours doing nothing online.
My computer has EATEN MY SOUL.
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...that second day scenario? Sounds reeeeeeeally good. I want that one.