Thursday, October 19, 2006

Hi Mom!

I know, I know...I've been lagging on blogging lately. I'm not sure if the reason is that my life has become extremely boring or that my mother is reading the blog.

Yep, you read that right: Momma Glib has obtained the blog address and reads it.

I knew she had it a while back - when my brother was off being an idiot and I was blogging about my family frustrations. I knew then because she made a somewhat defensive comment on the blog that I deleted because, well, it's my blog and I don't like having my mom say bad things about me on it. I immediately chastised her for reading the blog as it's kind of my public diary. She promised not to read it anymore. I believed her.

Flash forward a year or so to our road trip to Texas to pick up the zebras. As happens when traveling for long periods, we got to talking, mostly about my constant state of singlehood, indomitable independence, and her subsequent lack of grandchildren. Then, out of the blue she asks, "Have you heard from JP?"

Let me just say that in the real world, JP is not JP's real name, merely two letters which comprise his initials. I have never referred to JP as JP anywhere other than on the blog, and my mother knows JP's real name and has used it before. The only other JP I know is my good friend PD's brother who I used to give kisses in exchange for rolling the Star Free Press for my paper route after school during junior high. I didn't think she was referring to that JP and deduced that she was referring to my JP of recent years and that she had, in fact, been reading this very blog to keep up on my life. Oh the horror!

I must admit it angered me a bit to think my mother had been reading my blog, not only because she said she wouldn't, but also because she's kind of conservative and already has one heathen child to worry about without having to think about me running around in Catwoman outfits or on dates with men with poo bags.

Then I got to thinking about it and thought how ridiculous it is for me, a grown woman, to worry about offending my mother via a website that may at times be occassionally embellished, and that she has been expressly forbidden to visit but that every other soul on the planet is free to peruse and comment on. After all, if I were a mother and knew my daughter wrote of her exploits for all the world to see, I would most certainly be reading the site on a regular basis.

So I guess I get it: She wants to read this stuff. She's an adult. I'm an adult. Sometimes she'll be mad about some stuff, sometimes she'll be happy that I turned out somewhat decent, other times I'll refer her to far worse blogs to make myself look better.

That said, I'd like to welcome her to the blog, ask that she identify herself and only say nice things about me in the comments section, and congratulate her on finally becoming a grandmother.

Oh yeah, my brother's crank skank girlfriend (yeah, the one who sent him to jail and broke his car windows) apparantly gave birth to a surprisingly healthy looking baby boy a month ago making me the now twice-estranged Auntie Glib (sister has a baby too - yes, I have a sister).

8 comments:

Buzz said...

I never knew you had a sister, did I???

Oh, and I want to take you up on the X-mas trees, and I want to thank you for the trailer if some day I should need a mountain hideaway...

-buzz

Anonymous said...

Let me be th first to say welcome momma Gibberish! If you would like to post any baby pictures (with happyface-over-faces) of Glib you can send them to me, I fear bothing of the pig/camel/zebra lady. Stories are accepted as well.

Oh, we will also accept pictures and stories anout the animals!

Anonymous said...

Grammatical and spelling errors are added free of charge

Anonymous said...

I am NOT reading your blog!

Glib Gal said...

sozBuzz- I actually have three siblings - two brothers and a sister. We're all halves. It would take a large dry erase board, several shots of Wild Turkey (Pappy's favorite), and years of therapy to explain it all.

AHNS - You are just wrong to offer to post tales of my troubled childhood as told by Momma Glib!!!

Mom - Not sure it's really you. Prove yourself by identifying the hotel chain at which at waitress once mistook my diarrhea on a high chair for peanut butter.

Anonymous said...

That would be Howard Johnson's: Final answer.

Anonymous said...

I was actually going more for the "aaaawwww, ain't that cute" stories, but I am up for any! Also bathtub pictures or pictures rummaging through the litter box are fine.

No, I am not one of those Michael Jackson types! I prefer my women old enough to buy me beer.

I will never look at peanutbutter the same again.

MB said...

You still haven't met my brother up there have you?

I only knew about your one brother.

Welcome Mom. Other than the story when she was in Tijuana with the four Marines most of her stories aren't that bad. I noticed you did delete that one Glib, how come?