Spike's Bitches 31: We're Motivated Go-getters.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
"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.
Cat-stacking most addictive thing EVER
{{{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).
{{P-C}} Wish I had some good advice, but I don't. I still got lots of {{{}}} for you, though.
IObizarreN, I came home today and had to park on the street outside my condo complex. The whole road was lined with fire trucks and the driveway to the parking lot was blocked by a police car with more fire trucks inside it. No one stopped me from walking to my condo. It looked like the row of garages that serves 3-4 of the buildings (including mine) had burned about halfway from one end to the middle. Kinda glad I never bought one of the garages, now. Ack.
Sheeesh, Sail. You're so hot, you're a fire magnet. I'm glad you and your car weren't involved.
FOB-y
Friends of Bill?
Fat Old Brahmin?
Furries, Oz and Buffy?
Familiar Orchid Balls?
Freaky On Binaca?
False Orange Butts?
Flipping Or Bradycardic?
Femurs On Breasts?
Cat-stacking most addictive thing EVER
It truly is. I can get up around 1.6 million points now, which is kind of scary.
Wait
Fred Or Barney?
Flakes Of Branze?
I think FOB=fresh off the boat?
Ah, meara, you're so smart. Of course. I knew it was something sensible, but it wouldn't come to me.
Ahhhhhhhhhh. Home from my deep tissue massage. Shoulder is in big pain, but it is the good kind of pain now. Hot bath is next. I bought a Lavendar bath bomb to complete the process.
I think FOB=fresh off the boat?
Yep. Recent immigrant. Usually a designation between an already in place immigrant population and newcomers. The playwright who wrote M. Butterfly wrote a play with that title.
Yay for feeling some better, Suzie.
Also, it's not fun to listen to your mom cry and not be able to say anything that would make her stop
P-C, most of the time I was growing up, I felt it was my filial duty to keep my mom from crying. She went through peri-menopause when I was in junior high schoo, and I felt like I had a teenaged daughter. By the time I was 17, I was mostly comforting her and working to stop her tears - no longer out of a sense of compassion and love but to get her to Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
It took me several years past this stage to learn that I can't fix her: We cannot fix anyone but ourselves. I wish I had a decent suggestion for you on how to navigate these tricky waters you find yourself in, but I do have this: I'm on your side. I believe in you, and I hope so much for you to find peace and joy in your life.
