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April 21, 2002 - 7:45 p.m.

sometimes i really wonder why i even bother to call my parents at all. case in point: this morning, as it is sunday and telephone long distance rates are cheap, i decided to do my once-a-month duty call to my parents. i had stuff to tell them, like i had graduated, and, er, well, that was it really (our family only discusses practical matters like school, jobs, and potential visits).

my dad and mom initially were happy to hear from me and congratuated me on working hard and wished me much future success. all fine and good so far. then, my mom began filling me in on how to dress for an interview. hmmmm, our conversation was slipping quickly. i don't think my mom realizes that i am thirty-one and fully capable of dressing myself for a wide variety of occasions, both personal and professional. she was swift to point out all my figure flaws and how to camoflage them with "untucked blouses" and "black slacks". i was losing control fast. listening to my mother, i was thirty-one going on twelve. my dad, on the other hand, was shouting all sorts of things in the background, like: "louise (my mom), leave her alone!" and "i think she (me) knows best!" it was all getting too much. i could be grateful that my dad is strangely supportive of me (and i know to a point that he is), but i also know that he'll support me in order to yell and belittle my mother (as i've witnessed during other once-a-month phone calls).

so as usual, i ended the phone call quick, but not before i heard my mother on the other end say "i pray for you" (as she always does). jesus!

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