Well hello imaginary friends that I like to think read my blog.
Aw, who am I kidding. Not even Bubbles and George would read this.
At any rate, it's Thanksgiving and I swear to god, it's the worst I've ever had.
And it's only 12 in the afternoon.
What makes this so terrible, you don't ask?
Well, allow me to explain.
My father is out of town and I've been living with my best friend and her family for about a week.
I've got my older sister and her boyfriend wanting me over for their dinner.
And I've got my best friend who wants me over for her mother's dinner and her father's dinner.
And then I've got another friend who wants me over at her house for dinner and to stay the night.
But aside from all these choices I can make, I've just received the worst news in the world.
My mother is coming to town for my sister's dinner.
I can tell you where I don't want to be;
Anywhere within 50 miles of this woman.
Now I know, I know.
"She's your mother! It's Thanksgiving! That's terrible!" Blah blah blah blah.
The thing *you* don't know about my mother is that I'm pretty sure the alien in the Alien movie was based off her.
I know what you're thinking;
"She can't be that bad."
No, sir. You are very wrong.
This is the woman who gave birth to me, and then tried to sell me to a man she met on a BDSM website when I was 4 or 5.
Alien:: He's from Child Services, sweetie, it's okay.
Me:: Then why does he want me to take off my clothes?
Alien:: He wants to make sure your father hasn't been beating you.
Me:: But you're the one who hits me. Not dadddy.
Alien:: Please don't be difficult, just do as he says.
Alien:: And when your father comes back from overseas, let's keep this to ourselves
Me:: Sure. Whatever you say, slagwhore.
So I go out into the living room, clad in my Barbie underwear, and stand in front of the man.
I knew from the moment I saw him, there was no way this bastard was from CS.
First of all, he looked exactly like all the child molesters portrayed on TV.
Secondly, he was licking his lips and looking at me like a homeless man staring at a T-bone.
So he starts telling me to pose, and all this other weird shit, before concluding that I look to much like a boy.
I've never let my hair grow back out after that.
But back on topic;
So she's coming to town. Wants to see me, all this jazz.
But worst of all, she knows I'm moving in with my boyfriend this weekend and I know just how eager she is to stop that.
Like she has any right.
Me:: Sure, mom. I'll come live with you.
Me:: Yup. As soon as you pay up for the 6 birthdays and Christmas' you got my sister a gift but not me.
Me:: Next year, then?
Now I'm not trying to say she was a terrible, rotten, no-good whore of a woman.
But a lot of my blogs, you'll find, will have a little story with her attached to it.
You could say her fucked up way of life has taught me what NOT to do in situations.
But the worst thing about this woman is that she denies anything she did when I was a kid.
And anything she obviously remembers, she thinks she was in the right.
Woman is bat-shit, people.
And she's close... I can feel it....
Me:: I think we'll need a bigger boat.
Brody:: I don't think that line works here, Char.
Hooper:: A for effort, though.
Me:: Stfu and get back in my head.
Well, I'll try to stick it out for the rest of the day.
If the story develops, I'll let you know.