na foine ting

Saturday, October 01, 2005

So I got this certified letter from my mom today. Certified. Like you get from the IRS or something. I had to sign for it. It was a handwritten note on badly centered home made stationery.

It read, in short, that she's too busy/upset/overwhelmed to see me before I go. To see us, her grandchildren, you know. Us.


She lives 45 minutes away.


Later, I find I can't resist:

... yeah.

mmm. What's the deal between you and your Mom then Kate? Her letter sounds 'nice', but the whole thing (inlcuding context) is weird.
and I thought MY mom was messed up. . . .forget it, the trade thing is off. You deal with yours and I'll handle the crazy French woman.
what's not ok here isn't you. in case you doubted that, even for a sec. in the end she is the impoverished one.

I still need your addy, wench.
Tribless... hm, some 37 years later, I'm not sure even I can explain.

Max... is this some weird 'thow me the idol I give you the whip' thing??

Kyri... will email, and thank you.
Post a Comment

Powered by Blogger