There's Something Seriously Wrong With Me

Like most things that go awry in my quotidian, the following post has an awful lot to do with my mother. I don't have mommy issues...I suffer from something profoundly more twisted and frightening.

Allow me to expound.

Let me quickly get this out of the way: I love my mother. She is a strong and snarky human being who fears absolutely nothing. Believe me when I say that when I want someone to get it, I unleash them on her. Fo' realz. This is a woman who once made a cashier (a grown man might I add) cry because he over charged us for oranges and Dunkaroos.

"I know why you did this and it's because ripping people off is a game to you. Don't give me that look, I'm not afraid to fight you."

The exchange lasted for a full 10 minutes before the manager had to intervene and tell the poor cashier to go home for the day and my mother and I strolled outta there with a 50 dollar voucher. What's a goon to a goblin, right?

I've lived the majority of my existence terrified of my mother. I never snuck out at night to see friends, I never went anywhere without telling her where I was going or who I was with, and when I lie to her you could easily mistake me for a stroke patient. I get sweaty, I don't speak coherently and my eyes twitch. I still believe it is the natural order of things that one should fear his or her mother.

Has this kept me in check? One could argue yes. I was always a good student, I've never had problems with men or gotten pregnant and I don't get trashed every weekend. On the other hand, I basically dropped out of school this year (I'm going back in September...maybe...uh, yeah that's another topic) and all I've been doing is spending money on clothes and music.

Am I rebelling? I don't think so. I think I'm just relaxing a little and trying to enjoy life a little more but how on Earth will I break it to her that all I want to do is write and travel for a year. Consciously, I know I'm an adult and she really can't do very much about what I decide to do with my life. However, every time I start the conversation, my voice breaks and she gets very suspicious. I go into the bathroom and take a few deep breaths before I go back and start a totally different conversation. She must think I'm snorting Xanax or something.

Hopefully I'll just come out with it and she'll be totally accepting. And by "accepting" I mean she might not whoop me.

There's No Excuse

...ok MAYBE there's one: my computer died.

It has since been resuscitated but for the past month I've had no connection to the internet other than my blackberry and I am positively dreading the phone bill I'm about to be slapped in the face with. So, alas, that is why I have been missing in action for what seems like forever.

Basically, there was a virus in my computer that had intimate relations with about 12 other viruses and took away any chance of my computer ever functioning properly again. I'm back now and I will be posting more often.

Major events in the past month: I walked out of a public washroom with my skirt tucked into my underwear and a man (quite possibly Kellan Lutz' doppelganger f.y.i.) had to be the one to explain to me why children were crying around me.

That's all really. Please tell me how you've all been.