Fiestaware is my everyday stuff, in purple, sunflower, tangerine, and cobalt blue. Also some very plain white dishes. I have some fine china stored at my MiL's but I've never used it. I liked it when we picked out the pattern, so I hope I still like it when I eventually take it out of its boxes.

{{{P-C}}}

I like the new cut, Hil.

Great news, Jilli!

My good china is this: [link] . In real life, it's more pastel than this. It was my grandmother's second-best and it pretty much has everything, including cream soups. My father was the only child in an entire family. Sadly, no one had any money to speak of, but they all had china and silver. We've sold some of it, but at one time, we figured we could serve a hundred people with china and silver. We also have a pretty good idea of the natural lifespan of types of china, based on what survived. Cups go first. Dinner plates go last.

Betsy, I love the Haviland.

Erin, that sounds brilliant.

Wow.

P-C, I gotta say, if you were my kid and were that self-absorbed on my birthday? I'd not only not be hugging you, I'd have gone upside your head with a very hard, very blunt object.

I mean, damn, you couldn't have waited a few hours?

By the sound of it, though, it doesn't seem like any time woud have been a "good" time.

By the sound of it, though, it doesn't seem like any time woud have been a "good" time.

Maybe not. But deliberately fucking up her birthday accomplished what, precisely?

Sorry, yo. I am apparently in the minority on this one, but there it is. Not a lot of sympathy from me on this one.

P-C, I was raised by an over-controlling, micro-managing mother. She was forceful, opinionated, with an unpleasant personality, and she resented the fact that I had an interior life, as apparently the concept was unknown to her. As a result I grew up hiding everything from her, keeping secrets, and at bottom wanting desperately for her to like me, to approve of me, to 1. Allow me to make my own choices once in a while, and b) to admit that occasionally I made correct choices.

Eventually I had to become my own parent and let her flail and rail on her own, in order for me to survive. I have extremely strong tendencies to revert to passive aggressive mode in situations where I find myself uncertain, or in the wrong. I know where it comes from, but really? It doesn't help me cope with the world as it is now.

It seems to me you need to start parenting yourself a little, and allowing your parents to do whatever it is they do without really affecting you, as much as you can. Please believe I'm only speaking up because your last entry is ringing all sorts of associative chimes for me, and if my experience can provide any relief in your dealings with your parents, I hope you'll take it for what it's worth.

But deliberately fucking up her birthday accomplished what, precisely?

My rationale was that maybe she'd take it better if she were in a good mood. Some tiny part of me had hope she would maybe be happy for me in any way. As for my sulking afterward, sure it wasn't productive, but I'm a moody fucking person.

For the future, P-C? Bad news on special days? Not if you can avoid it. At best, you make a good day less good, and she has to come to terms with that as well as the news. Not fair at all.

P-C, I was raised by an over-controlling, micro-managing mother. She was forceful, opinionated, with an unpleasant personality, and she resented the fact that I had an interior life, as apparently the concept was unknown to her.

Similar to mine, except that mine was a forceful chilly iceberg. I actively dislike my mother, most of the time.

However I would not now, nor would I have then, have boasted about ruining her birthday, or even considered enjoying doing that, not to her, not to anyone.