There’s a reason I don’t ever work on my Web site when I’m upset…

3 minute read

May 26, 2004, 9:42 PM

There’s a good reason I don’t work on my Web site when I am upset or angry. Because my Web site is a creative endeavor, and I believe your mood really shows through when you create stuff. And I really hate being upset, and so there you go. That’s why this journal entry is being written at half past two, rather than at a more “reasonable” hour.

This is also reason enough that I am no longer going anywhere by myself with Mom, as well. She invited me to go out to dinner with her, since “we don’t spend any time together anymore”. She tells me where we’re going to go eat in the morning, and then when she gets home from school, we’re off to dinner in Staunton (it’s a bit early for dinner, but we can deal with this).

Of course, it’s not like we actually made it to dinner. On the way, Mom decided to use the trip to push all my buttons, and proceeded to bother me about my job and that she thinks I should be looking for another job NOW (all in due time), and about my weight. Nothing more I’d rather talk about, and especially with her. Realize my mother has brought this crap up so many times over so many years that I really don’t care anymore, don’t appreciate the sentiment, and as such it really goes in one ear and out the other. And I think that my mother is smart enough to KNOW that I don’t appreciate it and that those topics do push my hot buttons.

Needless to say, it was an unpleasant trip. Enough to take away my appetite for food as well as for spending any time with the person taking me out. By the time we were almost there, my responses had gone from productive to just-finish-your-discussion-and-move-on to a very specific request: “TAKE ME HOME”.

Boy, some people sure know how to sour the mood. My mother also taught me long ago that when your date says “take me home” that their word is law, and the date is over.

I don’t know what my mother was thinking. Take me out to dinner, push all my buttons, and then after getting me good and mad, think it will be a pleasant evening?

Yeah, right. After she pushed all my buttons, and after ignoring who-knows-how-many requests of TAKE ME HOME, it stayed unpleasant. Realize we hadn’t even gotten off the Interstate yet when I was asking to go back home, if that tells you how bad this situation got.

We made it as far as the parking lot at Staunton Mall, which is where the restaurant was. We never made it to the restaurant. I refused to go to dinner, and just wanted to go home, having had my appetite ruined by having discussed my weight against my will just before dinner.

The next hour (or at least what felt like an hour) was spent in the car with each trying to wear the other down. Mom trying to get me to go into the restaurant and making comments of “be a man” and such, and me refusing to leave the car, repeating my request: “TAKE ME HOME”. We ended up going home (surprise, surprise), where I ended up going up to my room and going online, and who knows what Mom did.

Needless to say, it will be a long time before I go out to dinner with Mom again, and an even longer time before I go anywhere with Mom without a third party with us to keep everyone in line.

The bottom line is that yes, I realize that she cares about me and all, but you also have to figure out how to make sure your point is received correctly. Point not made.

Web site: archive page about criticism. Read the piece labeled "TRANKINA" (next to last on the page). Quite fitting.

Song: Something from a Nick at Nite commercial

Quote: "It's generally not polite to take someone to dinner and criticize them about their weight on the way there..."

Categories: Family