sienamystic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sienamystic) wrote2008-11-03 12:15 pm
sienamystic) wrote2008-11-03 12:15 pm
Entry tags:
A million miles above my head
I wish I could shake off this blah feeling - not quite depression as much as a general malaise that makes me say "bleah" to the idea of doing anything combined with the deep desire to crawl back into a snuggly bed. The bulk of it stems from a phone call with my mom. I phoned because I thought she wanted to babble excitedly about her trip to Ireland, but her mood had changed and now she wanted to talk politics.
I'm sure you all can guess how well that might have gone. My mom is firm in her views, which mostly are bolstered by every Fox News outlet you can imagine, plus all the worst radio hosts. Plus, apparently a pair of college kids (whom I'd like to find and strangle) decided that seeing her McCain sign in the front yard made her a fair target. They hung a McCain/Palin flyer on her front door with a drawing of a penis in Palin's mouth - a crudity my extremely sheltered mother reacted to very badly. I don't think she truly believes that this was an official Obama-sponsored campaign tactic, but she takes it as proof that his followers are horrible people. Just as she knew all along, of course.
There was a brief sideline into "poor President Bush" and why the Iraqis are, of course, enthusiastically happy with Americans - we liberated them, after all. And her mom and dad were so happy when the Americans came to liberate the Philippines from the Japanese in WWII - everybody sang God Bless America. The two scenarios are the same in her mind. Exactly the same.
Even mild countering of her points (I knew not to try and face her dead-on, because all it brings me is hysteria) got me a lecture about working for a university not meaning that I have to put up with Socialist propaganda. By the end of it I had developed that self-descructive burn deep in my chest that I knew I had to smother before I said anything I regretted later (I AM SO VOTING FOR OBAMA, MOM. I'D VOTE FOR HIM TWICE IF I COULD. AND I'M GETTING A TATTOO OF THE SOVIET FLAG ON MY ASS TOMORROW. PLUS I PLAN TO KICK A PUPPY ON THE WAY TO MY POLLING PLACE AND MAYBE SPIT ON A BABY.) so I finally got her off the phone and promptly called my sister. She's the only one who understands in this sort of scenario, so she was able to calm me down.
And then I discovered the giant spider bite on my leg. Ok, maybe it's not so gigantic, and it's not spreading out redness around the bite, but I of course skipped right over the "huh, well I'll watch it for a while and see if it looks worse later" and went right to "OMG how will I survive when they have to remove the leg?"
Thankfully it's a quiet day at work. I think I'd run screaming if I had to think about anything difficult right now.
I'm sure you all can guess how well that might have gone. My mom is firm in her views, which mostly are bolstered by every Fox News outlet you can imagine, plus all the worst radio hosts. Plus, apparently a pair of college kids (whom I'd like to find and strangle) decided that seeing her McCain sign in the front yard made her a fair target. They hung a McCain/Palin flyer on her front door with a drawing of a penis in Palin's mouth - a crudity my extremely sheltered mother reacted to very badly. I don't think she truly believes that this was an official Obama-sponsored campaign tactic, but she takes it as proof that his followers are horrible people. Just as she knew all along, of course.
There was a brief sideline into "poor President Bush" and why the Iraqis are, of course, enthusiastically happy with Americans - we liberated them, after all. And her mom and dad were so happy when the Americans came to liberate the Philippines from the Japanese in WWII - everybody sang God Bless America. The two scenarios are the same in her mind. Exactly the same.
Even mild countering of her points (I knew not to try and face her dead-on, because all it brings me is hysteria) got me a lecture about working for a university not meaning that I have to put up with Socialist propaganda. By the end of it I had developed that self-descructive burn deep in my chest that I knew I had to smother before I said anything I regretted later (I AM SO VOTING FOR OBAMA, MOM. I'D VOTE FOR HIM TWICE IF I COULD. AND I'M GETTING A TATTOO OF THE SOVIET FLAG ON MY ASS TOMORROW. PLUS I PLAN TO KICK A PUPPY ON THE WAY TO MY POLLING PLACE AND MAYBE SPIT ON A BABY.) so I finally got her off the phone and promptly called my sister. She's the only one who understands in this sort of scenario, so she was able to calm me down.
And then I discovered the giant spider bite on my leg. Ok, maybe it's not so gigantic, and it's not spreading out redness around the bite, but I of course skipped right over the "huh, well I'll watch it for a while and see if it looks worse later" and went right to "OMG how will I survive when they have to remove the leg?"
Thankfully it's a quiet day at work. I think I'd run screaming if I had to think about anything difficult right now.
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//offers you gallon of tea
(I AM SO VOTING FOR OBAMA, MOM. I'D VOTE FOR HIM TWICE IF I COULD. AND I'M GETTING A TATTOO OF THE SOVIET FLAG ON MY ASS TOMORROW. PLUS I PLAN TO KICK A PUPPY ON THE WAY TO MY POLLING PLACE AND MAYBE SPIT ON A BABY.)
That _did_ make me laugh!....
I of course skipped right over the "huh, well I'll watch it for a while and see if it looks worse later" and went right to "OMG how will I survive when they have to remove the leg?"
//offers hugs OMG, that's me too! SPIDERS SUCK.
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And she woke up my sister this morning to rant at her about how *I* better not be voting for Obama. My sister has been instructed to lie, lie, lie. Which was kind of a given.
I am watching my spider bite veeeeery carefully. I normally don't have anything against them, but this is the first time I've been vilely attacked in the sanctity of my own home!
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Mine is a twisted and evil brain.
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Gorby can go on my lower back, where you'd put a tramp stamp.
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