(no subject)
my mother just hung up the phone on me for the first time ever. i was only trying to figure out how to help her, how to arrange all these complicated transportation issues we anticipate in january. i called back and asked, in a pretty nasty way i'm sure, "did you just hang up on me?" and she said, "yes, wasnt that juvenile." and i said "alright i cant talk to you right now then, bye". and after she echoed the ending we hung up by mutual understanding, but i am left unsettled, even unnerved. at home for thanksgiving i was reminded again of how unusual my friend relationship with my parents is, how well they can take my occasional forays into the land of fourteen-year-old shoshanna. but this did not indicate our closeness. dan tried to remind me that it was a rare moment for me to experience normal family life, but that doesnt seem quite valid. i grew up hearing that we did things our way, not some other peoples way. and we did. and we often do. but perhaps i have come to expect some kind of godlike perfection of my parents because so often i can find no real fault in them. they are deep people. they love me unconditionally. they still read me stories when im sick. we share our poetry and tears, and i can still crawl into bed with them. but my mom did get into the car last week and notice the remnant scents of a few joints, so understandably shes not feeling her kindest towards me. but that was supposed to be about our trust, and this, well, this seemed only to be about that damn teenager-parent thing. and i thought that was so far gone.