my mother told me i would be a very good writer, which would have been more of a compliment if she'd ever actually seen anything i'd written. she gave me three pages of absent-mother-catharsis outlining the demise of kerith from age 16 and up. drugs sex alcohol losing my arm to speed (apparently this is my future and she has watched today tonight ice is the new heroin).
and the best part is we never have to discuss it again. i can pretend it never happened and she can pretend she understands my life.