Jewish mothers & Catholic guilt

I've decided that there may be one type of mother "worse" than a stereotypical Jewish mother.

The Catholic mother.

I know I've already mentioned a few reasons why my mom makes me crazy but last night she used the card that always manages to cause me to spiral into self-loathing. What might that be you ask? The "when am I going to get you married off" card. To be fair, she didn't say it quite like that, but the meaning was there. We were talking about apartments etc., and I said something about really wishing I had my own place. Her response? "Well, you've got no money and, more than that, I really wish you'd meet someone". AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!! No, no no no no no no, PLEASE do not start with that! It isn't bad enough that I beat myself up about that very thing on a fairly regular basis, I do NOT need you joining in!! She makes it sound like I don't want to meet someone. God, it's hardly a case of me not being interested! It's very much a case of there being no normal, decent guys out there that I am interested in and happen to be interested in me. So, right there in the span of about five seconds my self-esteem managed to take a total nosedive. To be honest, I'd been feeling pretty ok about the whole situation lately. I haven't been dwelling on it too much, haven't been getting all psycho-emotional about no boyfriend and such. You'd think that would actually be a good thing and, hey, don't all be-coupled people tell you "think positive! blah blah blah, the more you think about it the less likely it happens, blah blah blah". Well, I wasn't thinking about it that much, but now I'm all depressed about it again. Thanks a lot mom. Thanks for re-opening that wound. Oh yeah, and hey, let's just forget about the fact that when you were my age, you weren't married yet either. So don't even start with me. I have enough self-loathing as it is. I hardly need you to help me out in this department.

The other fun comment from good old mom this weekend had to do with my hair. She begins with a seemingly good comment about my hair looking nice. What this discussion then evolves into is a commentary on how she did not like the way I'd done my hair the other day, how she doesn't like it's color, it's too dark etc. etc. It just rubbed me the wrong way and you combine that with the whole boyfriend/marriage discussion, driving to Detroit with her and such and god, this weekend was a barrel of laughs mom-style. Sheesh, practically makes you look for the closest tall building or bridge.

Oh yeah, and one other really fun habit of my mom's--every single time I'm on the phone, once I hang up, she asks me who I was talking to. I could be up on the roof on the phone and she could be at work across town and somehow she will know I was on the phone and will want to know who I was talking to. It makes me absolutely insane. God, I mean, I talk to maybe three people, you can guarantee it'll be one of them, so why ask? For some reason that really rubs me the wrong way. I'd love to tell her to stop asking, but what's a non-bitchy way to do that??

Here's my theory on the whole Catholic vs. Jewish mother thing. My mom has somewhat insane opinions about Judaism--the ideas, practices, people, you name it. However, what I think is hilarious is the fact that she is the perfect Jewish mother. Hell, aren't all Catholic mothers? And, to be technical, aren't they all actually in a way Jewish mothers? If Catholicism came out of Judaism, wouldn't it be logical that the Jewish-mother-ness was passed along to Catholic moms? Hence, my mom (despite the fact that she denies it) IS a Jewish mother.

Two things to look forward to:1) my mom and dad have a thing to go to tonight so I will get the house to myself for a few hours. 2) My mom and dad will be away for a weekend at the end of October. I will have the whole house to myself for almost three days. This is very, very exciting.

I really wish she'd leave me alone. I'm going to go completely insane at this rate. It's not like I don't already feel like a total loser, I hardly need her help.

Sasha