I called my mom while I was walking because that is what I do. I told her how I’m going to Ted’s parents to celebrate Rosh Hoshanna, and she told me about a conversation with the wife of one of my father’s very conservative business colleagues.
“She said her husband never would have let their daughter date someone who wasn’t Episcopalian, or whatever they are, and I said, ‘Beatrix is a grownup. She doesn’t live in my house; I can’t tell her what to do. And. . . and I trust her.’”
And that was cool, so I took a few minutes to gush about my boyfriend and talk about how the two of us should come visit her and my dad some time soon. I think she’s excited about this.
And, well, then she said that it was fine that I have a Jewish boyfriend as long as her grandchildren didn’t have to have those dreadlocks, by which she meant the curls, by which she meant payots, which I had to look up: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sidelocks
I really think she means well.
so, i had the kind of day that may or may not have involved my shouting at my boss that i he can't try to make me feel guilty for not wanting to work weekends (even though he knows i will) but he should thank me for being at work at all. and then i cried. a lot. and now i'm eating more pizza than i should. and i think i might have a cold and i just hope i don't have what sammy has 'cause it's GROSS, trust me, he emailed me a picture.
so anyway. feel free to tell me i'm pretty.