I fled to the mountains this weekend. Live 8 in my neighborhood is a little too much for me. Thank god for my new computer: it's so easy to pack up and take wherever.
My mother doesn't understand my fixation with my computer. She's 50 and very tech-friendly, but she doesn't do any personal interaction on the net at all. I have no idea what she does. The net is all about the people for me. I don't do well with people in real life. Just ask my neighbors.
The house in the mountains is my parents' house, so 9 times out of 10 we are here with them.
Today I am here tete a tete with my mother, and we are pushing each other's buttons for fun and spite.
About once a year, we have the kind of, uh, "interaction" where one of us storms out and slams the door. It's a vast improvement on ten years ago, when this would happen several times a day until I moved out. Considering the fact that we see each other several times a week and we often spend weekends up here at their vacation house, our record is pretty good. We actually like each other, most of the time.
Right now we are in that icy phase where we both know where the other one is, but damned if we're going to be the first one to apoligize. I am taking advantage of her non-presence to post snarkily about her, because breaking out the Vaio in her presence provokes "don't you think you're a little...um...obsessed?"
She doesn't get the blog thing at all. She knows I have one, and she googled it once to see if I wrote anything about her. She's uncomfortable with how honest I am here, I think. In her family you pretend negative feelings don't exist, at whatever cost. I wish I could have talked to her about what happened this week.
Well, I guess I better go and make nice.