Saturday

You probably didn't know that I was going to Boston. It was a last minute thing. Here's a not-to-scale chronology of events: The last couple of years: mom has generally complained of various health problems, including an eye infection. She's undergone various diagnoses and treatments, and none has fully eradicated the problem. The last few months: Her health hasn't gotten worse, but she's become increasingly paranoid and upset about it. A friend, who is a doctor, had her get an MRI done. The MRI showed that the hemispheres of her brain are not quite the same size; the doctors couldn't explain it--they don't know how long it's been this way, what the baseline was--but they also weren't terribly concerned. Same doctor friend suggested that mom's symptoms matched those of Lyme disease, but mom wasn't bothered. She's convinced that there are bugs of some sort in her head, and they've been eating at her brain. This would be scarier if my mom weren't Russian, but she is, and this doesn't sound that crazy given her superstitions and understanding of biology. All this to say, I'm by no means nonchalant about mom's health, but I'm also not all of the sudden much more worried about it.

The last month: I told you that mom "sensed" my breakup, but I don't think I told you that she offered to come be with me and I politely discouraged her for her sake and mine. Then she offered to buy me a ticket to Boston so that I'd go for my birthday, but it just wasn't possible given what I needed to do and where I needed to be at work. Mom didn't get it and kept pushing, and I was annoyed that she didn't get it and kept pushing. I shouldn't have snapped ("I said no!") but I did.

Two weeks ago: I mentioned that I was thinking of coming for Memorial Day weekend but tickets were out of control and I was waiting to see whether they'd come down. They didn't. Mom said, "definitely don't come if tickets aren't expensive," and I listened to her partly because I didn't want to contend with lectures about how financially irresponsible I am. Then, a week ago, mom said, "why don't you take the Chinatown bus?" and I said "HELL NO!" and she got offended because she apparently took it personally. Dad called me the next day to say that I should come to Boston before I went to Europe. Mom wouldn't talk to me on the phone during the week, but she warmed up slightly when I called this morning to make sure they knew I was coming. So now I'm here.

 ***
Dinner: Our wine glasses were raised when mom looked at me.

Mom: What's wrong with your forehead?
A.: What's wrong with my forehead? Mom: It's... not even.
A.: [Shrug].

At this point, I was getting so unnerved by her comments about her health ("the bugs are eating at my brain") that it was a relief to be insulted. Ah, back to the mom I know.

***
Jay came over, we all went for a walk and came back to the house for tea. He and I dished about our most recent dating and relationship nonsense, and we both played with our phones. Yes, listen to me say things like, "this is one of my favorite apps." Who have I become?? Mom kept aggressively and repeatedly offering him food, and I tried to be nice but it got to the point where it was just annoying and I had to ask her to stop. Jay was in the middle of talking about his cat's chemotherapy, when mom interrupted to make sure he wasn't hungry. It got ridiculous. At the same time, I saw some of myself in mom. I can be aggressive about offering food. It's an ethnic thing. This is probably a sign that I should be wary about dating any more wasps (F.'s term, not mine). But I digress. I also caught myself being needlessly angry with my dad, who drives me nuts in his own way. As I indicated in the previous sentence (see: needlessly), this is as much a me issue as a him issue. Dad had opened a plantain, which I maintain are much, much tastier fried. So I cut it up and fried it, and looked for mustard to serve it with. My parents have several of everything so I knew they had several containers of mustard. Dad pointed to two in the fridge, but I also caught sight of honey mustard (even more perfect with plantains!).

A.: Don't open that one, we'll just use this.
Dad: Why not?
A.: Because we're not using it right now.
Dad: It's not a problem to open.
A.: But we're not using it.

[Dad opens the mustard we won't be using.]

A.: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO WE NOT HAVE ENOUGH OPEN, HALF-FULL CONTAINERS IN THE HOUSE?
Dad: We'll use it another time.
A.: So?? Why couldn't you just wait to open it??
Dad: [Shrug.]
A.: [Rolls eyes.]

***
Jay and I are made for each other, are perfectly compatible (most of the time). First of all, we both have the same dryish sense of humor. I'd texted him earlier with a philosophical question. See, I've done my best to remove all traces of F. from my house and thought I'd succeeded, but I keep finding stuff. This morning, as I was packing, I found the honey badger t-shirt he'd given me for Valentine's Day.

A.: Discovered the honey badger T-shirt as I was packing this morning. It's so soft and comfy -do I have to get rid of it?
Jay: Well, I'll be glad to help out and take the shirt.
A.: I didn't bring it but if you want it it's yours :-).
Jay: Well, for ironic weirdness, I could prolly have [my ex[ meet you in dc to pick it up.

I don't know whether the humor comes through here, but the idea is hilarious. Later, during our walk, we came upon a bird on the path. We whipped out our phones and went to the Honey Badger sound board app. Turns out "'Watch out!' says that bird" isn't on it, but we both started playing random soundbites and cracked ourselves up. Because it was hilarious. We understand each other.