My Mother The Stalker...So That's Where it Came From. Who Knew?
So my mom and I decided to spend the day together, because we're close like that. We did some grocery shopping, went to Blockbuster (so that I could tell her what movies suck and which movies were acceptable to get...tomorrow she will yell at me for purposely picking out movies that I like that she doesn't. This is not true, she just has no taste). We hit the mall and returned some clothes that I can't afford but because they were sparkly I bought them (I'm a little like a crow that adds shiny stuff to his nest)...then I got my mortgage bill so I decided to take a couple of items back. Ah well, I'll catch them on clearance! A much better plan really!
On our way down to the mall I told my mom the story now entitled, "Bread Crusts" and she's now enamoured of Drk. She feels that true love awaits us and that there is hope that she will have a very short, black haired child with a strut (obviously when he or she can walk) within the year. Obviously, optimism in the shadow of defeat is a family trait. I swear, she was humming lulabyes under her breath as we marched through Nordstrom to return stuff at Abercrombie and Bebe and at Arden B. I'm a bit of a shopper sometimes. It comes and goes in spurts, I save and save--and then I spend and spend.
On our way back from the mall my mom casually asks, "Where does Drk live? I want to see my future whatever-in-law's place."
"Uh yeah, about that...he lives down ____th street but no, you can't drive past. I'm sure that crosses the stalking line, and there are laws against that in this state!"
My mom waves a hand at me to shush me and makes a turn down ___th street. She also proceeds at three miles and hour. I duck down, turning red and act like I'm five,
"Ma...his car isn't even here...Will you just drive faster, please?"
She goes back to my house and as she's pulling into the driveway she asks (mostly to herself), "Maybe he's at his mom's house..."
"Don't even think about it!"
"Ok, ok. I just want to see him!"
"Then come to the bar with me, but for heaven's sake...I embarass myself enough around him. I don't need him thinking you're a lunatic too!"
"Well I just want to run into him and shake some sense into him! You're so pretty M, and smart. Where is he going to find a catch like you, I ask you?"
A bit wearily, "I know Mom, that's what I've been telling him for months now."
"Maybe you should wear sluttier clothes when you go out..."
And with that, the Dali Lama of Dating Advice went home to bake a cake for her boyfriend.
Tonight (since I have off tomorrow), it's a trip to either the microbrewery place or to the bar I used to attend religiously (for no amorous reasons, just for drunken ones) I was there for a few minutes on Thursday and everyone there told me that they missed me...but I'm not ready to go back just yet. Wish me luck. I have a feeling that with the impending snow storm, it may just be a quiet night with Chelle (a little boozing and a whole lot of Blockbuster). But we'll see, why jinx myself!
On our way down to the mall I told my mom the story now entitled, "Bread Crusts" and she's now enamoured of Drk. She feels that true love awaits us and that there is hope that she will have a very short, black haired child with a strut (obviously when he or she can walk) within the year. Obviously, optimism in the shadow of defeat is a family trait. I swear, she was humming lulabyes under her breath as we marched through Nordstrom to return stuff at Abercrombie and Bebe and at Arden B. I'm a bit of a shopper sometimes. It comes and goes in spurts, I save and save--and then I spend and spend.
On our way back from the mall my mom casually asks, "Where does Drk live? I want to see my future whatever-in-law's place."
"Uh yeah, about that...he lives down ____th street but no, you can't drive past. I'm sure that crosses the stalking line, and there are laws against that in this state!"
My mom waves a hand at me to shush me and makes a turn down ___th street. She also proceeds at three miles and hour. I duck down, turning red and act like I'm five,
"Ma...his car isn't even here...Will you just drive faster, please?"
She goes back to my house and as she's pulling into the driveway she asks (mostly to herself), "Maybe he's at his mom's house..."
"Don't even think about it!"
"Ok, ok. I just want to see him!"
"Then come to the bar with me, but for heaven's sake...I embarass myself enough around him. I don't need him thinking you're a lunatic too!"
"Well I just want to run into him and shake some sense into him! You're so pretty M, and smart. Where is he going to find a catch like you, I ask you?"
A bit wearily, "I know Mom, that's what I've been telling him for months now."
"Maybe you should wear sluttier clothes when you go out..."
And with that, the Dali Lama of Dating Advice went home to bake a cake for her boyfriend.
Tonight (since I have off tomorrow), it's a trip to either the microbrewery place or to the bar I used to attend religiously (for no amorous reasons, just for drunken ones) I was there for a few minutes on Thursday and everyone there told me that they missed me...but I'm not ready to go back just yet. Wish me luck. I have a feeling that with the impending snow storm, it may just be a quiet night with Chelle (a little boozing and a whole lot of Blockbuster). But we'll see, why jinx myself!
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