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The dragon of linguistics homework was slain at midnight last night, and Roomie took it to its final destination this morning. Thus, I am free until next Tuesday. A week of unfettered leisure time; I hardly know what to do with myself. If I'm lucky, I'll make headway on "The Scarf", SLS 53, and SWIC 4, but then, turkey consumption makes me a lazy girl, and I am just as likely to spend my free week on the couch in a contented stupor.
My mother is coming to visit on Friday. If I had my druthers, she wouldn't be, but my grandfather already turned down her invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, and she sounded so lonely that I felt like a crumb begging off. She claims she's coming alone, but I'd bet my Jockeys that when she pulls into the drive, my grandma will be in the passenger seat, dressed to the nines and smiling fit to burst. Which will be fine until she opens her mouth and spews forth a torrent of racist, classist vitriol.
Speaking of my mother, I called her yesterday to ask for help. I didn't call because I felt I was entitled to her maternal charity; I called because she told me when I moved that if I ever needed her help, I could call, and she would do what she could. So, yesterday, I swallowed my pride and picked up the phone to tell her that my teeth were in dire need of repair. They hurt, and I don't have five thousand dollars to fix them. It was, therefore, a legitimate need.
Her response? "Call the health department."
What? I checked with the health department website, and according to them, they offer dental care to those under 21. I am 28. It is entirely possible that they have a program for adult dental health and choose not to publicize it. After all, we wouldn't want the great unwashed wasting tax dollars on such fripperies as teeth. Teeth are for caviar, not Spam. Anyway, I'm going to call the Monday after Thanksgiving to see if any such program exists. If not, my teeth will continue to throb and rot until the nerves die or the infections and abcesses that are sure to come kill me.
It's her money, and if she chooses not to share it, there isn't much I can do about it, but if she never intended to help, I wish she'd never extended the invitation.
My mother is coming to visit on Friday. If I had my druthers, she wouldn't be, but my grandfather already turned down her invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, and she sounded so lonely that I felt like a crumb begging off. She claims she's coming alone, but I'd bet my Jockeys that when she pulls into the drive, my grandma will be in the passenger seat, dressed to the nines and smiling fit to burst. Which will be fine until she opens her mouth and spews forth a torrent of racist, classist vitriol.
Speaking of my mother, I called her yesterday to ask for help. I didn't call because I felt I was entitled to her maternal charity; I called because she told me when I moved that if I ever needed her help, I could call, and she would do what she could. So, yesterday, I swallowed my pride and picked up the phone to tell her that my teeth were in dire need of repair. They hurt, and I don't have five thousand dollars to fix them. It was, therefore, a legitimate need.
Her response? "Call the health department."
What? I checked with the health department website, and according to them, they offer dental care to those under 21. I am 28. It is entirely possible that they have a program for adult dental health and choose not to publicize it. After all, we wouldn't want the great unwashed wasting tax dollars on such fripperies as teeth. Teeth are for caviar, not Spam. Anyway, I'm going to call the Monday after Thanksgiving to see if any such program exists. If not, my teeth will continue to throb and rot until the nerves die or the infections and abcesses that are sure to come kill me.
It's her money, and if she chooses not to share it, there isn't much I can do about it, but if she never intended to help, I wish she'd never extended the invitation.
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