Early Birthday

I was just doing my last e-mail check before bed, and my stepfather has sent me £25 worth of spending at Amazon. Isn't he nice?

Now I'm going to wind up wasting sleep time working out what I can actually afford with that. Online shopping yay!

The Art of Conversation

So today's the day I meet up with my mother. A few hours from now, I'll be sitting in the bar of a nice Japanese restaurant where we went for dinner exactly two years ago for exactly the same reason, and I either tell her that I'm a pagan ... or I don't. There are any number of ways I could deal with this situation, and none of them are without risk of serious shit hitting the fan.

It's only a risk, mind you. I mean, we have a sort of amnesty going; we mention nothing that might start a fight, and fights don't start. I'm perfectly happy to put aside the fact that she's made me so fucking scared of her that I can't even be open about the really important parts of my life with her because of the high possibility that she won't approve of me. I don't think she's as happy not mentioning my weight, the smoking, and every other fucking thing she'd like to see different in my life, but she does it, and that's the main thing. We talk about 'safe' topics ... well, relatively safe. We talk about what's new with my job and how things are with dodgyhoodoo and she makes it a point to ask about the RPG stuff, which she doesn't really get, and my friends, even those couple in the States that she was convinced were bad for me a few years back. I know she's trying. That's what makes it so hard.

I don't enjoy the prospect of upsetting my mother anymore, if indeed I ever did. She's got such limited views of how to lead a good life, mostly to do with her upbringing and how she got her start in life. I feel bad for her because of the limitations she still carries around with her. Honestly, for a woman who wanted her daughter to have every opportunity and see everything the world has to offer, her opinions and views are ... strange. Homosexuality is 'icky'? You can't be anything but a Christian if you were baptised and are living a moral life? You should ever only rely on yourself? I can't even show her half of my restaurant discoveries because of Mum's views on what constitutes a 'good' restaurant. (For instance, she'd hate the Tokyo Diner because it looks less than upmarket.)

Anyway, I don't want to upset her, but I want to share the important things in my life with her. I want her to be a part of my life, and I want to be honest with her. These are things she says she wants too, and I don't think she's lying, exactly. It just seems sad that she pushes what she wants aside because they don't fit into her views. But I suppose that's my mother for you; ever striving for the things she thinks will make her happy while throwing happiness away with both hands.

I'm not bitter or anything. I think I've actually come to a point in my life where I really forgive my mother for my childhood etc, rather than how it's been previously, where I've felt bullied into saying it didn't matter for fear of mother-wrath. I'm just concerned that the groundwork we've both been laying lately won't hold up to this, having tested the water on the faith front and found it iced over. We've been doing so well, and I don't want to lose it now.

So now I'm considering approaches, and it feels like preparing for war. As tolshak said on IM last night, "You shouldn't have to bone up on Sun Tzu when preparing to talk to your mother". But that's what I'm doing, as much for damage limitation as anything else. I don't want to 'win' anything per se; I want to complete the mission while minimising the collateral damage.

So here goes: "Mum, I was talking with dodgyhoodoo last week about what happens when we decide to get married -- yeah, that's kind of on the cards... [insert pause for whatever mother comment comes from that here] Anyway, we were thinking that when that happened, we were going to have a handfasting as the primary wedding thing. [explain handfasting, because she's going to ask] We're doing it that way because we're both pagans and a church wedding just doesn't suit us."

Honestly, the only way I can think of to soften the blow is to use that last sentence as a reminder that this is not just my lone insanity but an actual faith. Argh. And I have just over four hours to get this straight in my head.

Fuck this; I'm going shopping.

The Return of the Undead Meme

Incidentally, I used my new gift certificate from Amazon. I ordered Battle Royale 14 (so no more searching for it yay!), Strangers in Paradise 17 and a copy of Go Ask Alice, which I cannot find in this country anywhere. So hopefully no one got me any of those for my birthday.

Anyway, I think it's about time to bring back that lyrics meme again. I need something to do while my cellphone charges up a bit.

+ Open your playlist and click "shuffle."
+ Choose the first 20 songs.
+ Write your favorite line of each song and have your friends guess what it is.
+ Don't Google the lyrics. You actually have to know the songs.

( Here There Be Lyrics )

My music collection is mad. Madmadmad. Right. Now off I go to veg out in town before the oncoming storm. Meep!

Misconceptions

It went okay. I want to throttle Mum, but only a little bit. She was fine about the whole pagan thing, but only because I apparently have more sense now. She tells me that her reaction of "Oh, don't be silly; of course you're a Christian" was part lapsed Catholic guilt, part not thinking I'd thought my decision through and part ... oh, this sounds ridiculous but she said that, because of the violent stuff I read when I was a kid and teenager (stuff that, for the most part, came from her bookshelf, I might add) and the stuff I listen to, she was afraid that I was going to tell her I was a Satanist.

My mother is an unbelievable doof sometimes. But at least there was no fighting, and I restrained all impulses to give her an earful about the whole "You listened to and read violent horror so of course I thought you were going to wind up worshipping Satan" thing. Never mind a) she read all that stuff and hasn't gone Eeevil and b) the eventual fate of most of the demon-worshippers in those things. Either the demon double-crosses them and either eats them or tortures them for all eternity, or some hero comes along and hacks their head off. And besides, she doesn't even really know what Satanism means. I'm more exasperated than annoyed, really. At least she doesn't think I'm insane.

I got some great birthday presents, too. The Encyclopaedia of Essential Oils by Julia Lawless, which is a fantastic book from the brief look I've had at it, and Thirteenth Step, the one A Perfect Circle CD I didn't have anymore and desperately wanted. (Mum's comment on the cover art: "I thought, 'Oh, look. That girl has a slug on her face. That's ... pleasant'..." Also a fridge magnet (madness hamsters), a very tiny comedy book about cats and some Body Shop products from David, who obviously didn't get the memo that I make my own now but did remember that I like bergamot, so that's nice. Of course, I also got clothes, and even that was more funny than anything else, because the first thing I unwrapped was a black linen calf-length A-line cut skirt ... which was an exact replica of the skirt I was wearing tonight, the thing I bought for work with Kier Islington. Of course, it's also a size too small, so I have to return it anyway, but I'm not going to turn into Seth Brundle. There are also a couple of tops, and those are nice and in my size and I needed new work tops anyway. She also says she wants to renew Yuki's pet insurance as a last present to the household, which is nice. One day, when things are a little more settled between me and her, I'll have to invite her over so she can meet Yuki.

I also must remember to try to write down my recipe for sticky ribs; she likes ribs and I don't think she really knows how to cook them so, despite the fact that I cook by instinct rather than measures, I'll give it a go. I can make approximate guesses on how much of everything goes in, and it'll mean I cook them again sooner than I ordinarily would. She's offered to take down a list of stuff I want from North America, too -- maple sugar candy, A1 sauce, Season-All and Lipton chicken noodle Cup-a-Soup. (Saltines wouldn't survive the journey, more's the pity; Saltines crumbled into Lipton chicken noodle Cup-a-Soup was one of the great comfort foods of my childhood.) Might have to ask for Swedish Berries too; some of the gaming group really does like the gummies. Speaking of, must go to the Canada Store tomorrow and get some Canadian sweeties. Yum.

When I went shopping, I also got a new DVD for the house and a PS2 game for dodgyhoodoo. The DVD's a Korean flick on the Tartan Asia Extreme label called Whispering Corridors; I spent some time explaining to Mum the deep abiding love for Asian horror films in this house. The game is more Asian horror, but Japanese this time, and based on Lovecraft's Cthulu mythos: Forbidden Siren. Obviously right up dodgyhoodoo's alley, and I had £10 to spend in Virgin on my Addict Card anyway. When I gave it to dodgyhoodoo, it turned out that it, like Project Zero, was one he always meant to pick up but hadn't got around to. Go, me.

Last day of my being 28, and my birthday's not going to be overshadowed by Mum-fight-aftermath. Huzzah!