August 21, 2003
adventures in missing the point
Today, for lack of anything else to do, I went to lunch with my mom and her friends.
If you are ever bored and want something to do, going out to lunch with three fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class women is probably only a good idea if you yourself happen to be a fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class woman, and then only if you like that kind of thing.
It was about an hour or so of three perfectly normal-looking women moaning over their (nonexistent) bodily "imperfections" and gossiping about other fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class women (and men). Apparently if you have to say something mean about someone, it makes it okay if you lower your voice and put on an I Really Shouldn't Say This But expression. I didn't have much to add to the conversation. Until after one lady left and my mom and her other friend started kvetching about church politics, and then I had something useful to say. I think. I wish I'd brought a book, anyhow.
Tangent: We also went shopping for dorm stuff. I got a comforter, two sets of sheets, a mattress pad, and a rug. All of it was blue. Don't try to hide your shock, I see you all out there.
After that was over, I sat around the house doing... nothing. I kept it up for quite a while, and then Sorcha called and invited me over to help her pack. So I toddle downstairs and tell my mom I'm going to Sorcha's house to help her pack, and my mom... being my mom at these times... gave me The Look.
The Look is a fascinating creature, composed of disappointment, sorrow, disapproval, and warnings of consequences so dire that they may not be uttered, only implied by the lift of an eyebrow, for to speak them aloud would cause the world to implode. Or something. The Look is intended to either bend a recalcitrant child to the will of her parents, or to elicit truth from a dishonest child, by the sheer weight of the tension of eye contact on the child's presumably guilty conscience.
On me it has the effect of making me nervous and shifty-eyed, because for cripes' sake who wants to meet The Look?, so even when I am telling the truth, it makes me stutter and hesitate in bad places as if I was lying. Actually, it's even worse than that, because when I'm lying, which incidentally is quite rare as I generally just prefer to avoid subjects I don't want to discuss, I know to expect the Look and can prepare for it accordingly. So the Look only makes it look like I'm lying when I'm not.
Anyway, I maintained stubbornly that I was going over to MY FRIEND'S house to HELP HER PACK, and, implicitly, that I was not in fact going over to MY LESBIAN LOVER'S dark lair to HAVE A BIG OL' ORGY. Because I understand how subtle these distinctions can get. And seeing as we've been over this before countless times and it's been established that I refuse to sacrifice my friendships to my mother's raging suspicions, I went over to Sorcha's house. (Actually, since my brother had my car, Sorcha came and picked me up. Details.)
Later, after I came back, I informed my mother that I wouldn't be eating dinner with the family because... I was going out to dinner with Bridget... for Sorcha's goodbye dinner!
Yes, that's right-- cue The Look!
Mom: *The Look*
Me: "Don't give me that look. I hate that look."
Mom: "Tell me the truth."
Me: "I am. I'm going out with MY FRIEND to say GOODBYE to her, since I won't be seeing her again. Can we please not do this again?"
Mom: "You know what I'm thinking, right?"
No clue.
Me: "Yes, and you're wrong."
Mom: *hurt look* "What about what we discussed? The straight and narrow path? Can we do away with those issues?"
Me: "Sure." Thinking she means her hating Sorcha.
Mom: *suddenly happy* "Really?"
Me: "Um... yeah?" Realizing that's probably not it.
Mom: "Oh that's wonderful! Here, do you need some money for dinner?"
Me: "... Wait a minute, I'm confused."
Mom: *disappointed look* "Oh no, don't be confused..."
Me: *bewildered* "What were we talking about-- screw it, just give me the ten."
So someone tell me, what the hell did I just agree to? Because I have the nasty feeling I just agreed that either I'll ditch Sorcha, or I'm straight, or something equally stupid.
Also, during dinner there was a fascinating subtext to the conversation which I assume had something to do with interpersonal difficulties between three of the dinnergoers. I have no idea what it was, though.
I seem to be missing a lot today.
If you are ever bored and want something to do, going out to lunch with three fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class women is probably only a good idea if you yourself happen to be a fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class woman, and then only if you like that kind of thing.
It was about an hour or so of three perfectly normal-looking women moaning over their (nonexistent) bodily "imperfections" and gossiping about other fortysomething suburban upper-middle-class women (and men). Apparently if you have to say something mean about someone, it makes it okay if you lower your voice and put on an I Really Shouldn't Say This But expression. I didn't have much to add to the conversation. Until after one lady left and my mom and her other friend started kvetching about church politics, and then I had something useful to say. I think. I wish I'd brought a book, anyhow.
Tangent: We also went shopping for dorm stuff. I got a comforter, two sets of sheets, a mattress pad, and a rug. All of it was blue. Don't try to hide your shock, I see you all out there.
After that was over, I sat around the house doing... nothing. I kept it up for quite a while, and then Sorcha called and invited me over to help her pack. So I toddle downstairs and tell my mom I'm going to Sorcha's house to help her pack, and my mom... being my mom at these times... gave me The Look.
The Look is a fascinating creature, composed of disappointment, sorrow, disapproval, and warnings of consequences so dire that they may not be uttered, only implied by the lift of an eyebrow, for to speak them aloud would cause the world to implode. Or something. The Look is intended to either bend a recalcitrant child to the will of her parents, or to elicit truth from a dishonest child, by the sheer weight of the tension of eye contact on the child's presumably guilty conscience.
On me it has the effect of making me nervous and shifty-eyed, because for cripes' sake who wants to meet The Look?, so even when I am telling the truth, it makes me stutter and hesitate in bad places as if I was lying. Actually, it's even worse than that, because when I'm lying, which incidentally is quite rare as I generally just prefer to avoid subjects I don't want to discuss, I know to expect the Look and can prepare for it accordingly. So the Look only makes it look like I'm lying when I'm not.
Anyway, I maintained stubbornly that I was going over to MY FRIEND'S house to HELP HER PACK, and, implicitly, that I was not in fact going over to MY LESBIAN LOVER'S dark lair to HAVE A BIG OL' ORGY. Because I understand how subtle these distinctions can get. And seeing as we've been over this before countless times and it's been established that I refuse to sacrifice my friendships to my mother's raging suspicions, I went over to Sorcha's house. (Actually, since my brother had my car, Sorcha came and picked me up. Details.)
Later, after I came back, I informed my mother that I wouldn't be eating dinner with the family because... I was going out to dinner with Bridget... for Sorcha's goodbye dinner!
Yes, that's right-- cue The Look!
Mom: *The Look*
Me: "Don't give me that look. I hate that look."
Mom: "Tell me the truth."
Me: "I am. I'm going out with MY FRIEND to say GOODBYE to her, since I won't be seeing her again. Can we please not do this again?"
Mom: "You know what I'm thinking, right?"
No clue.
Me: "Yes, and you're wrong."
Mom: *hurt look* "What about what we discussed? The straight and narrow path? Can we do away with those issues?"
Me: "Sure." Thinking she means her hating Sorcha.
Mom: *suddenly happy* "Really?"
Me: "Um... yeah?" Realizing that's probably not it.
Mom: "Oh that's wonderful! Here, do you need some money for dinner?"
Me: "... Wait a minute, I'm confused."
Mom: *disappointed look* "Oh no, don't be confused..."
Me: *bewildered* "What were we talking about-- screw it, just give me the ten."
So someone tell me, what the hell did I just agree to? Because I have the nasty feeling I just agreed that either I'll ditch Sorcha, or I'm straight, or something equally stupid.
Also, during dinner there was a fascinating subtext to the conversation which I assume had something to do with interpersonal difficulties between three of the dinnergoers. I have no idea what it was, though.
I seem to be missing a lot today.
Labels: family, friends, Teh Gay
# posted by Liadan @ 9:57 PM 
