Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why yes, my mother should be institutionalized, why do you ask? Well. What was shaping up to be a fairly average night has turned much more topsy turvey than I had pictured. I was idly IM'ing with Boop, and she told me to hang on for a second. A few minutes later, I get a call from my mom, telling me that Boop's bunny, Portia, had died, and could I come over? I said yes, and got dressed, only to get another phone call telling me never mind, and then some very upset emails from Boop because mom, in her ever sensitive nature, had of course worked things up way past where they needed to be. The evening took a rapid downturn when my mom told my sister she was obviously possessed, and told her to say some prayers to get the devil out of her. Aren't you glad you're not cursed with a parent who still thinks it's the year 1350? She fucking told my sister to sprinkle herself with Holy Water, and claimed that the devil was obviously intent on breaking up their home. Not unless the devil is making you a crazed nutbag, mom. I headed over there, and offered comfort as best I could, and ended up taking Mozart home with me just to get him out of Boop's hair. I'll go back over there tomorrow and help her do some cleaning and basically run interference for her so that mom has somebody else to throw verbal daggers at. You know, if my dad hadn't taken the coward's way out and fled to a foreign country instead of getting a divorce like normal people, Boop would probably be living with him and much happier. Instead she's worried about paying for college, and worried about how she's going to manage to make it out of the house. I'm going to try and get her all the information about FAFSA - in theory her school counselors should be giving the seniors this sort of thing as they roll into their senior year. What Bemo and I need to arrange is a place where we can live by ourselves, but one that has a guest bedroom that Boop can hole up in when and if she needs it. I have crash space for her now, but at this point, her leaving the house would just screw up a lot more stuff than it would fix. Hang on, Boop. One more year and then it's college and some breathing space for you. 11:40 p.m. - 2002-05-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||