The Stars and the Cookie Jar

So, why did I expect support from my mommy? We had entered into a pact of mutual aggression by the time I was four. I would take everything out of the fridge, and she would run the vacuum cleaner. She didn't actually vacuum, she was just drowning me out with the vacuum. She would insist on serving my KoolAid, I would vomit my KoolAid all over the wall.

It was grape, by the way.

So, now I'm telling my mommy that I'm getting married, and she says, "okay." To think I was worried that my fiancee's parents would be the ones with problems. Oh no. Just, okay. I mean, your oldest daughter, and frankly, the only one likely to get married, tells you that she's getting married, and you say, "okay." When I asked if she thought that my sister would be an attendant, she said that she didn't think it was fair of me to put my sister on the spot like that, because I knew that my sister didn't like lesbian things. And that my sister was uncomfortable, and that she'd gone to bed without talking to me, even though we were waiting on some kind of answer, even if it was no. It's my wedding. And you just know that if I had left my sister out of the plans, my mother would have had a SHIT.

So, she's read, like, 200 words of my entire catalogue. How can she possibly be my mother? And at this point, everything that upsets me about my mother, like the fact that she can't be arsed to get into a literacy class, even when they're free, or the fact that she has no fiscal responsibility - and I mean less than me - and the fact that she just got my sister another dog. This is dog number 2. My sister is about to go to college. So, yes. Everything about my mother that's upsetting me is all coalescing in the fact that she's making statements about my life and my wedding and my life. And she thinks I'm having a manic episode. And she thinks that my fiancee is rebound girl because I'm "always in and out of relationships." In short, my mommy, on crack.

And we're still going through with the wedding.

And I know I'm only so upset because I'm sick, but I really think she's being unfair. And she says that she'll call tomorrow, and I don't really want her to call tomorrow. Because, really, I would like her to drum up a little more enthusiasm. Mommy, are you going to show up? "I guess... I mean, you're my daughter, but..."