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.

Bugger. No hot bath for me tonight. Despite asking DH not to run the dishwasher until I was done, he started it without checking with me. So bye-bye hot water.

I'm more upset about this than I should be.

Aw, Suzi, that sucks. You were looking forward to it - it's bummed-out-worthy.

Also, dude, they've given me this Mission: Impossible shit to access documents on the Major Pharmaceutical Company server. It's a SecurID doohickey that changes six-digit numbers every six or eight minutes. Those six digits plus four other digits comprise the password.

I used to work at a place that had those. We played poker with them. The smarter developers wrote some formulas for figuring hands with 6 numbers.

They discontinued using them after a couple years, to everyone's relief.

Dinner last night was great, really awesome to see my friend again, and her husband was very cool. Mal, however, was the Three-Foot Antichrist. Good throwing arm on that kid.

I'm more upset about this than I should be.

I'd be mutherfarking PISSED.

Suzi, I agree with Nora. "Bummed" might be ok if you hadn't asked him before he turned on the dishwasher.

Hmm. I wasn't attempting to downgrade your level of pissed-offness by saying "bummed." I hope it didn't come across that way to you, Suzi. If so, I apologize.

ION, I got three hours of sleep, and, really? That's just not enough. Blergh.

And I said, "I've never said anything like that." And she just went on thinking what she thinks.

PC, hon, at some point I think you're just going to have to accept that this is the way it's going to be, at least for the next little while. Maybe some years down the line when she's more used to thinking of you as an adult, but for now, this is just what it is. And you need, for your own health and happiness, to try to find a way to disengage. Find a place in your brain where you can detach. Pick a funny song to hum whenever these sorts of conversations arise. Something.

As others have said, you can't change how she thinks. You can't change how she behaves. All you can do is change how it affects you. And that's not necessarily going to be easy, but you need to find a way.