Mum was on the phone last
night with her filthy rich friend and started talking about me because I
was writing instead of dutifully watching Law & Order SVU. (and she also
doesn't understand how I can write, eat dinner, and watch television at the
same time so she likes to tell other people about my strange habits and thus
have someone else to confirm that yes Mich is a bit strange and no, don't worry
it isn't you Mummy).
My mother also has this odd
habit of giving people completely inaccurate information about her children
even when she knows the information is false. Like that time a few years ago
when she said to Granny, "Mich wears white face paint instead of makeup."
No, Mumsy; I have not worn
white face makeup since I was goth. Ten years ago. I am actually this pale.
 |
| ...and have achieved my lifelong goal of having my skin the same colour as my hair. |
Or to her friends a year ago, "Mich was too hungover to cook Christmas dinner, so I had to do
everything."
ummm what
NO, I was violently ill because
I ate too much Italian food (I'm assuming that was the cause, which in fairness was my own fault because I know
I can't eat that) and yet I STILL managed to drag myself off the living room
floor and away from the Christmas Story marathon to disembowel the goose and
use its innards for the stuffing. Mum peeled the potatoes before going back to
bed.
Anyway I could go on and on
and on about this, but I'm sure none of you want to hear it, so I'll get back
to last night.
I feel like a whiny little
brat complaining about this.
But
I have few accomplishments
in life, and few skills and talents about which to brag. I do not have the epic brainpower of Big Sis#1 and Lil Bro #2. I do not have the supernatural musical abilities of Lil Bro #1. I do not have smart and talented
children to show off to friends and family. I can write stuff fairly well.
That's it.
Mum knows exactly
how many books I've written because she has read them all, and she has bragged
about it to others. But for some reason whilst talking to her rich friend, she
decided to slice a few novels off the top.
"Mich has written 2
books."
>:(
I guess maybe she feels
like she has no business bragging to rich friend because rich friend's daughter
is the super-genius wonderchild who managed to get two bachelors degrees in 3
years?
Mich has written SEVEN
books and one novella.
Seven.
That's 2 + 5.
( = 7.)
Yes, I know, I'm a whiny
little brat. But I can't help that it bothers me. Like when Mum claims not to
know that I hate cheese, or that I am left-handed. I will allow Dad these
things because he has five children to remember and when you're the third
daughter born before the first son, you should count yourself lucky you weren't
left in a basket on the mountainside to die.
I was totally going
somewhere with this post and veered way off into another direction.....
