Fa La La La La...

There's a reason I hate the holidays. And most of it involves my mother, and her controlling perfectionism. That gets totally swollen and out-of-control starting about....today.

She went to visit my sister last week. She left on Wednesday. On Thursday, I had a 3 hour conversation with her that was mostly her telling me how to do things that didn't involve or effect her anyway. Friday and Saturday, My Sweetie had a 30-45 minute conversation with her each day. On Sunday, the day before she came home, I had a 65 minute conversation with her about....everything we'd already discussed, nothing important, and a repeat of her narrow, rigid, and pissy attitudes and opinions. Yeah, baby.

She got home on Monday. I talked to her for 30 minutes upon her arrival...about all the same shit we'd talked about on Thursday and Sunday. It was like a Reader's Digest Condensed version of the same-old controlling behavior.

Didn't talk to her yesterday, but today, the drain backed up. Luckily, it was small and caught early. But My Sweetie wasn't home to take care of it, and I had crap I had to run around town to get down that absolutely had to be done this morning...because school was letting out an hour early for the holiday break.

She was informed, and off she went to church. Fine.

She showed back up, in time to call Roto-Rooter. He's able to come today, but that means she's crawled right up my ass. If I try to do anything, I'm either going to get told HOW to do it, HOW to do it BETTER, or have to justify doing it at all. Loudly. She's hard of hearing--remarkably enough, her hearing loss is directly proportional to how much control she does NOT have at that moment. (and when that's not an issue, she's deafer if your nerves are jangling from having been subjected to biting your tongue off to keep from bitch-slapping her)

Today, after the drain was cleared, but before My Sweetie got home, and before the Roto-Rooter dude was packed up and paid, she first informed me that the guy (yea, she was THAT specific during this conversation) that died on Monday wasn't a "real Jew." She knows this, because the obit said he died Monday, and there was a viewing, and he wasn't buried IMMEDIATELY.

This, of course, also prompted her to inform me that one of my sister's friends is a "real Jew" and therefore it not only makes my mother (by proxy, apparently) an expert on modern Jewish traditions, it also means that any person who claims to be Jewish but doesn't do EXACTLY as this woman does (or as my mother supposes she does--I mean, she's seen the 10 Commandments starring Charlton Heston, too) is not a "real Jew."

The hell of it is this: Somehow, in her informing me of all her glorious (and OMG flawed) knowledge of Jewish tradition and law, she also began informing me of the sexual orientation status of several people we both know. As if she hasn't A) already informed me of this information at least 2x a year for the last 10 years; and B) I didn't already know well before she began informing me. (I want to add here that if she doesn't like you--and by "you" I mean 99.9% of the population--it means Man=GAY; Woman=WHOOO-ER. She's very much hung up on everyone else's sex life.)

Anyway, what it comes down to is simple: I am not HER, so there's absolutely no way I can ever talk out my ass the way she does.