mother

we wonder:
why does spending time with our mother make us contemplate old favorite visions of suicide? what is it about her that just makes the sky grey and the booze so necessary? there is something beyond Eeyore about this lady. she reminds we of the bad old days, and she does it on purpose. something we don't crave, particularly at this time of year when unrealistic visions of sugarplums and happy family propaganda are already crowding the airwaves. she's on her way home now, thank the goddess and damn us to hell for being so glad the visit is over. the trick now is to figure out how to miss christmas.