Shit My Azn Mom Yells...
I tried to create a twitter account to document all the shit my mom says/yells, but twitter was being a butthead and used my real name and when i tried to delete it, it made me sign onto my laptop. lame, twitter. just lame. then i thought about tumblr, but then it would have been an airing out of grievances and i didn't think tumblr was right forum for it. and after much thought i remembered my livejournal was where i originally posted these things. so here i am.
[Why I am in a funk.]
Why am i in a funk during the holidays, you ask. well let me tell you.
So before Christmas i took my mom to a restaurant called trini. they had a soup made from demi glace broth and onion pickled in vinegar. It was yum and mom wanted to recreate it at home; i was tasked with pickling the onion. at the restaurant, the onions were diced, but the recipe called for rings. it looked better. and if we wanted diced pickled onions, we could have just taken it out and diced them later. right? makes sense, doesn't it? apparently it didn't for my crazy, controlling, never thinking outside of her own world mother. she yelled at me for cutting the onions wrong. did it taste different? no! but i was still wrong for cutting it in rings instead of dicing them. [effing whore - pardon my language still upset... well obviously thus this post] she yells at me to the point i'm near tears. i have no idea if she saw or not. but she stopped at least. i finished my food and quietly walked away. I wanted to throw my food and smash my bowl, but i had to keep reminding myself no, i don't want to become my mother.
so she ends up making diced pickled onions.
so this makes lunch today with the demi glace broth with, what do you know, still edible and acceptable pickled onion rings. no appology no nothing. I could barely talk cuz i'm near tears again.
it's not like this is the first time she went bat shit crazy.
well i'm creating the tumblr.... me
[Why I am in a funk.]
Why am i in a funk during the holidays, you ask. well let me tell you.
So before Christmas i took my mom to a restaurant called trini. they had a soup made from demi glace broth and onion pickled in vinegar. It was yum and mom wanted to recreate it at home; i was tasked with pickling the onion. at the restaurant, the onions were diced, but the recipe called for rings. it looked better. and if we wanted diced pickled onions, we could have just taken it out and diced them later. right? makes sense, doesn't it? apparently it didn't for my crazy, controlling, never thinking outside of her own world mother. she yelled at me for cutting the onions wrong. did it taste different? no! but i was still wrong for cutting it in rings instead of dicing them. [effing whore - pardon my language still upset... well obviously thus this post] she yells at me to the point i'm near tears. i have no idea if she saw or not. but she stopped at least. i finished my food and quietly walked away. I wanted to throw my food and smash my bowl, but i had to keep reminding myself no, i don't want to become my mother.
so she ends up making diced pickled onions.
so this makes lunch today with the demi glace broth with, what do you know, still edible and acceptable pickled onion rings. no appology no nothing. I could barely talk cuz i'm near tears again.
it's not like this is the first time she went bat shit crazy.
- a few christmases ago, mom had a friend visiting her daughter in la. they decided to meet up in vegas for christmas. so for her christmas present, i got my mom tickets to vegas, the hotel room, and a show for the night we arrived since we were arriving a day early. the night before we were to leave, i was packing our bags [and yes this was after we started needing to pay for checked bags, no i was not going to carry on two bags, because i would have ended up with two carry ons to take care of, it was just less hassle for one checked bag between the two of us]. so one bag between the two of us. my mother smokes and she insisted on packing a carton of cigs for a three day trip. so i asked her how much does she smoke in three days. her answer: two packs the most. i told her she didn't need a carton of cigs and she can buy cigs at vegas if she runs out. she screamed at me saying that i was controlling her. and when i didn't apologize she refused to go on the trip and kicked me out of the house. an hour before the trip she picked me up as i was walking towards the stores so i can call my dad to pick me up. she tried to get my dad to defend her, but even he was like, wtf? when we got to the airport tho she SHUT THE FUCK UP when she realize it was $50 for a checked bag. and we left it at that. she never apologized. she has never apologized for her crazy. she has only ever apologized once and i made her.
- also a while back, my mother and i were looking for my passport. she usually puts it in a drawer, but we couldn't find it. so instead of trying to figure out where it was, she went nuclear. yelling at me. yelling at my dad. saying how snoopy we were and how we mess everything up by going thru her things. i yelled back that because she's so bat shit crazy that we don't touch anything. that's why the house is a mess. cuz she leave things and we can't move it because she'd blame us for it. it turns out SHE had put it in the safe deposit box in the bank. neither me nor my dad has access to it. i made her apologize to dad. she was foaming at the mouth yelling at us. she never apologized to me but i made damn sure she apologized to him. he didn't deserve that kind of treatment for something he didn't do. nor do i, but i'll take what i can get.
well i'm creating the tumblr.... me