Silver Lining

So, I did not, as expected, wake up today enlightened. Instead, I woke up after an hour of hitting snooze. Oops. Some things, I suspect, will never change. Sometimes, I'll think that one day I will miraculously become a morning person, but for that to happen, I'd have to stop being a night owl. And THAT I do not see happening in the foreseeable future. Not while I have so many fantastic friends to keep me up late!

Last night, we went to see The Science of Sleep at the Parkway. It was beautiful. It perfectly captured the strange kind of speech that happens only in dreams or when you're half asleep, when things almost make sense but not quite. Michel Gondry's aesthetics are just so lovely as well. And Gael Garcia Bernal = amazing and hott. He is really a fantastic actor. And evidentally somewhat tri-lingual. I wonder what it was like in French.

Hey kids, my birthday party was extremely fun! Everything a girl could wish for for her quarter century milestone! Cops, but no robbers. Score. And golly, my coworkers are so sweet! The exec' direc' just came in and gave me some delicious looking chutney and a coffee mug with penguins on it, and this is just my Thanksgiving present! She has a birthday present for me that she'll give me on Monday! Aw!

Thanksgiving, however, continues to prove to be something of a fiasco. My mom established this rule a million years ago that roughly states: "You cannot have a boy spend the night unless you're totally going to marry him." She also has an established rule that roughly states: "You must come home as early as possible on Thanksgiving day to begin your sentence of indentured servitude."

So, because I plan to go dancing on the occasion of my 25th, I asked her yesterday, "What time do you want me home on Thursday? Realistically."

She says, "Nine."

I repeated, "Realistically, Mom. I'm going dancing Wednesday."

Mom: "Dancing??"

Me: "Mom, it's my birthday!"

Mom (sighing heavily): "OK..."

Me: "I mean, I could come home to your house from the city on Wednesday so I'd be there in the morning..."

Mom: "But then how would [Dealbreaker] get here?"

Me: "Well, he'd be with me, and I know you don't want him to spend the night..."

Mom: "YEAH."

The conversation continued on the phone just now, when something came up about me needing to stay, and I said, "I thought I wasn't allowed to spend the night."

Mom: "YOUR BROTHER'S SITUATION IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT!"

But I hadn't said anything about my brother, who is, it should be noted, three years younger than I am, and a boy. She claims that it's OK for my brother's girlfriend to spend the night because they live together, but somehow I doubt that this is truly the case, since my mother is an admitted chauvanist. This is strange to me. Bill thinks that by allowing him to shack up, they are trying to encourage my brother not to be gay. She tells me, regarding me staying at her house with said boy, "It makes your father and I uncomfortable." Because apparently, I am perpetually 17. She says, "I can't wait until you have a daughter. I hope you have LOTS of them."

When she called me this morning, I said, "Thanks for making me, Mom."

She replied, "It was hard work. But it was worth it."