The weekend of Mom

Well, I knew it was coming. It's been quite a while and finally nearing the time a visit to Mom's was going to be required. You people out there may not miss these cute puppy-dog eyes of mine, but my mother sure does. You know how I know? Guilt trips. LOTS of them. Here - let me give you a shining and recent example of my mother's inherent ability to lay the smackdown on her unsuspecting offspring. This was one of our recent phone conversations:

*phone rings on my way to work about 7:45am*

Me: Hello?
Mom: Hey, it's Mom. You up and at 'em?

*Mom always thinks I'm lazy and sleeping in on a regular basis - even on weekdays when I like.. um.. have to work.. like at 8am.. like.. BE there AT 8. I don't get how she still doesn't realize this sometimes.. It was like a Tuesday for chrissakes..*

Me: Yup, as usual..what's up?

*Now..wait for it.. waaaaaaaaiiiit..*

Mom: Oh just thought I'd call my children since they must not love me at all cuz neither of them ever call me..

And BAM! There it is! Just fucking blatant, isn't she? Holds nothing back. And why should she? She is a mother after all... my mother... and she wouldn't be my mother if she didn't know how to unabashedly place a good top-of-the-morning-guilt-trip phone call. Nope. I mean, I didn't even see it coming. Barely had my chai ingested enough to allow the caffeine to hit and wallop! Hits me right over the head as if she was sitting right next to me. The woman has no mercy... but she does have a gift.. what can I say? And it's all mine. Oh yeah.. I know you're jealous.

So I combined my trip to visit college friends in Portland, where I'd see the second production of their fledgling theatre company, Third Rail Repertory, and mixed it with a short but sweet visit with Mom and Gram. Keith, one of my best friends and former roommates in college, came with me to make the trip since our friend Stephanie, who owns Third Rail with her husband, was also one of our friends and roommates back in the heyday of our undergrad theatre training.

He and I piled into the car last Thursday night and took off down the long and dreary path south to Oregon.. seriously.. most boring drive ever.. not just embellishing for, you know, writing style here.. dull dull dull. And, wouldn't you know it.. after the recent month long ebola like illness I've had.. I get yet another fucking cold. No really.. I'm not kidding you. Half way thru the drive I couldn't breathe thru my nose anymore, was popping Alka-Seltzer cold meds when I could, but the plague that wouldn't die was re-setting in and hitting me hard. Thank God we didn't have to drive further than Portland that night. I think I was hallucinating at one point cuz I was so tired.. uh yeah.. good stopping point there.

We stayed at Tim's house, another former college friend of Keith's and someone I slightly knew from back then, but he was a few years older and had graduated before me. He and his wife couldn't have been nicer or more accommodating - even had toast and juice with echinacea for sickly little me in the rather bright morning the next day. We said our thank you's, I dropped Keith off in downtown Portland for an audition he had arranged with Portland Center Stage and said I'd see him later that night for Steph's play. Then I was off to meet Mom in Salem.

Ok.. here is the best part about my mother - despite her brazen guilt trips.. she frickin loves me. To. Pieces. Yes, she does. Hell, they adopted me. They HAD to love me one would think. And I walked into the store where she works, practically falling asleep where I stood in all my not-breathing-and-sniffling grandeur.. and instantly she takes charge and is leading me down the vitamin and cold remedy aisles filling her arms up with what I must have and what she must buy me.. and am I going to stop her? Um.. do I LOOK stupid?! Ok.. don't answer that.. but hi.. no! And she took me out to lunch and we had peppermint tea and went back to her house to visit Gram and they both told me to lie down and rest and they'd wake me up when it was time for us to go and it was so nice and ahh.. that's what I felt right then.. just...ahh..

Now please don't confuse my house with one where sweetness oozes out of the grandma and mother figures, where cookies are made daily and affirmations are read and cheeks pinched.. cuz honey, let's be honest - it' ain't that. Both Mom and Gram are where I get my firecracker sass and sailor-like mouth, not to mention all the guilt-tripping talent one could dream of, but they have their moments where I'm the baby and they take good care of me and when you're an adult and you have roommates and house meetings and friends who can't decide if they want to be your friend anymore and 19 orders to enter at work and boys who want to date you but don't want to get much closer than that and car trouble and heartburn...... home with the family can be really really great.

After a much needed nap, Mom and I head back up to Portland to see Stephanie's production of John Patrick Shanley's, Dirty Story. I knew nothing about this at all other than it was a comedy and thought Mom would enjoy it. We said hello's to Steph and after promising to see her at intermission, made our way to our seats and waited to be awed.

Um.. first let me say.. Mom and I both didn't get the first act.. tho in her defense I caught her falling asleep a few times. But I was completely awake and still .. it wasn't sinking in what the hell was going on. I felt a bit stupid.. but thought, ohmygod.. please let the rest of the play get better.. what to say if it didn't?! At the beginning of intermission I had an uber quick mini pow wow with Mom where we spoke but barely moved our lips at how she wasn't allowed to say anything negative, we were there to support Stephanie, even if it sucked and she nodded her head in agreement like we were a TEAM I tell you.. then went to visit and talked about anything but the play. But hey, the 2nd act improved drastically and by the end I had this 'ah ha!' moment and figured out it was all political and the people were symbolic of countries and it was about the issues between Israel and Palestine and *yaaaaawwwwwn* I know.. you're getting bored and falling asleep on me right now... but really, it picked up and was very funny and smart tho I wish I could've figured out the symbolism earlier.. and you know.. gotten it in the first act.

Afterwards, we chatted it up with the old college friends I hadn't seen in easily 10+ years, one who said I looked great and I said he did too, even tho I thought to myself.. wow, you've really let yourself go buddy.. and it serves you right for dumping me way back then and using me to cheat on your then girlfriend whom I didn't know about and well, here we are and la di da! Again.. this was ALL in my head.. vivid imagination I have.. um.. yes..*ahem*

AND then it was time to go.. and we had the SLOWEST drive home of my life cuz Mom was driving. I swear time went backwards while in the car and I think I may have gotten younger. But God forbid I drive cuz all it takes is going over 25mph and the woman would white-knuckle it all the way home and make up things like they just passed a law that they'll now be giving out traffic tickets for those who run yellow lights.. Um.. ok Mom.. whatever color the sky is in your world.. She has so used that on me before tho.. I swear.

And that was that! The plague finally left the next day after some rest and breathing normally resumed. After playing with the 2 cats and 3 dogs who live in the house, I decided to forego the rest of the petting zoo on the farm this time, saving it for Thanksgiving. You think I'm lying... come with me sometime and you'll see they could charge some serious cash to play with the llamas, miniature donkeys and goats that they have in the field. The ad could read: 'Useless Animals! Come Pet Them For Only $5! If You Lose A Finger, No Refunds!' But that's another story.. Shunning the tall and short furry things that spit, I left the small town country side to pick up Keith in Portland and head back home to the metropolis of good old Seattle.. and.. somehow I have to tie this up cleverly, but it's late and I can't think of anything.. so um.. hey.. call your mother. She misses you.