Apr 26, 2005 10:06
I suppose I should offer an explanation for my previous post. The other night Jamie and I were swapping 'Ryan's Mother Is Nuts' stories. I told many, he told a few. As I began to re-live these stories in my head, I was laughing hysterically, uncontrollably. This laughter moved well beyond the the stoner giggle. I laughed so hard I couldn't breath and was crying a lot. It was like a burst of mania mixed with undertones of depression (is that possible?). It felt incredibly sad, but I couldn't stop laughing. Anyway, I guess I just wanted to know if the stories are funny, or if my defense mechanisms are so embedded in my unconcious that I feel the need to laugh at depravity. Here's another one:
My mom has a bizarre sense of entitlement. Growing up poor white trash in a suburb of Detroit, her ascension into 'new money' confused her. She purchased elaborate China sets that have yet to be used because, well, that's what bourgeois housewives do, isn't it?
My family came to New York for a reason I can't quite recall, and asked Jamie and I to brunch with them. I'm not entirely sure where the brunch was held, but I do remember that it was housed in a store on Fifth Avenue. After eating for about an hour, I look over at my mother and notice a large piece of plastic attached to her black leather coat. "Mom, what's that?"
"Must be the theft-prevention device."
"What?"
"I felt cold while we were walking into the restaurant, so I grabbed a coat off of the rack to wear during brunch."
"What if you spill something on it?"
"I'll wipe it off and put it back"
I looked at the tag. The coat cost $500.
Seriously, would a woman of sound mind do something like this?