The Notorious M.O.M.

I finally stood up to my mom this morning and told her I didn't like the way she talked to me, didn't like the way she is still painting me with the same brush with which she painted me as a child and had no interest whatsoever in talking to her about our family because it's always so terribly offensive when she does.

I was polite and firm. She got pissed and hung up the phone on me. If I never hear from her again, I think I'll consider it a Good Thing (even as trademarked by Martha).

There's no sense in hashing it out here. It's a story for the telling, not the writing. And it's not all that terribly interesting.

But you should know that one motivator was "x"GF's comment -- she who *knows* the evil my mother does -- who said, "I would feel better about you breaking up with me (somone you love) if you had also broken up with your mom, who brings nothing but misery to your life." There was a certain hypocrisy there that I had to accept. And, when the moment suddenly presented itself this morning, I decided to end the hypocrisy.

No more "La, La, La!" song, ma. And that's all.