Oh I wasn't saying you should say that, just giving you the example of what Joe did. Tell you rmom, no, I don't want to be part of the family. Stop calling me.

Also, was your mom one of the popular girls at my high school that thought the same thing of me? Just wondering.

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I have no clue.

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I was being a smart ass, love. I don't think that I am any where near your mom's age, silly.

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I thought you were asking a general question.

Also, it's not fun to listen to your mom cry and not be able to say anything that would make her stop.

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I just did a computer lab orientation for some of our first year students. Some fellow who sat in the front row and took lots of notes asked me questions about final exams. Dude, chill! Your classes don't even start until Monday.

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I was told that I was ashamed of my family and liked my friends better, and, fuck yeah, I like my friends better, but she totally made up the ashamed shit, despite her claims to the contrary. Then I got the old "Unless you don't want to be part of the family" bit.

If you can (and it's difficult and might not be right for you), this isn't a bad time to say, "I have never said anything like that mom, and I'm not going to listen to it. Please change the subject, or let's end the phone call, now."

And then a whole rant about how I don't associate with Indians and I should stop with all the Americans and make some Indian friends because, believe it or not, Indians are smart too, which pissed me the fuck off because I hate that just because I'm not actively pursuing Indian friendships means I'm actively avoiding them.

This is begging for a, "Then why didn't you bring me up in India, instead of America," but I'm sure that wouldn't be productive, so don't, but still? Begging.

Sorry that I feel uncomfortable going to giant Indian functions with HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE I DON'T KNOW WHO ALL ALREADY KNOW EACH OTHER AND WHY WOULD THEY WANT TO KNOW ME?

Ugh. That's my idea of hell (regardless of ethnicity). It's the HUNDREDS that already have me in fight or flight mode. Uckity uck uck.

I'm so sorry, P-C. The next time, you should stack the cats while you talk to her: [link]

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Also, it's not fun to listen to your mom cry and not be able to say anything that would make her stop.

I can imagine it's not, sweetpea. I'm sorry.

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"I have never said anything like that mom, and I'm not going to listen to it. Please change the subject, or let's end the phone call, now."

My response was, "What? You keep making things up, and I'm tired of it." And she said she wasn't making it up. And I said, "I've never said anything like that." And she just went on thinking what she thinks.

This is begging for a, "Then why didn't you bring me up in India, instead of America," but I'm sure that wouldn't be productive, so don't, but still? Begging.

I said, "That's just the way it happens," which was supposed to address that issue, but it wasn't effective enough. Although I swear to God, the constant fucking pressure to make connections with Indians has actually made me somewhat averse to them. Although it's mostly with FOB-y types.

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Cat-stacking most addictive thing EVER

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{{{P-C}}} Cindy is being super-wise, so I'm'a just point at her posts and nod.

Aimée, you want I should let you know the next time I hear about Cat-Stacking Guy and his friends doing an improv show? I know he lives...uh...somewhere LA-ish. He not only stacks cats, but he's one sick snarky painfully funny little bastard. You and Joe would probably like him much. Or possibly want to hit him with sticks. It's hard to say.

All the lovely books! All the love from vw and sj with bonus love from Victor and Thessaly! Thank you so, so much! It made me all teary in the very best way (though still slightly damp).

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