Tuesday, April 14, 2009


Brian’s mother Denise, who is, in so many words, cunty, overbearing, nit picky, opinionated, unbearable, cunty, unfriendly, mean, anal retentive, bossy, moody, and cunty is coming to stay with me and the kids for a week. Because I am a professional at dodging her phone calls she just called Brian directly and told him she was coming. Brian understands his mother, so much so he wouldn’t dare tell her she can’t come. Cause she’ll come anyway, she’ll just be in a bad mood when she gets there instead of her usual "hour of happiness that slowly erodes into silent bitterness". To make matters worse, she wears pantsuits all the time, a choice I find threatening. The nature of the pantsuit is formal, so to wear that particular outfit in a casual setting instantly nullifies the casualness of the environment, and I wish every environment I am in to be a casual one. You can see my dilemma, coming to breakfast in a nightgown and robe only to be met with a woman looking like she's ready for a power lunch. I wish Brian’s dad was alive to at least buffer the situation, but she drove him to death 10 years ago with constant bitterness and her critical word knives. I guess the only way to deal with it is to murder her.

And by murder I mean take pills.

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