Don't poke the bear.

So it seems lately that I either post when I'm either incredibly happy or incredibly angry.
This would be of the former.
I'm just a bit...shall we say ranty, about my mother. Always, about my mother.
And I know putting it on the internet is probably not the greatest thing to do. Putting it where absolutely everyone and anyone with the fine motor skills of an ape can access it. But I just need to word vomit.
I had plans for today. Not grand, fantastic, life-altering plans, but plans no less. They were MINE, and I was looking forward to them. I was going to help a friend fix her computer, going to go to lunch with my boyfriend, going to make some candy with my sister. There was knitting in the plans, and maybe even a small catnap before work.
I was looking forward to my plans. I was mildly excited about my plans.
What I did not find exciting, was being expected to drop all of my plans in an instant, in order to do my mother's bidding.
You see, there was this furniture at the hotel where she works (which in my opinion is a complete craphole, run by a bunch of borderline retards, but I digress...). The owner was selling some of it, in order to buy some more. Now, three times, my father and my boyfriend had gone to pick it up, and bring it home. Three times, the owner changes his mind, and decides that another day would be more suitable. Because of the complications, Mom decided that it was too much of a hassle, and that we didn't really need this furniture after all.
This was the general impression around here until about 1:30 today. Where I have just started my day, and am about to start in on my aforementioned plans. Mom calls, and SURPRISE! she has changed her mind. Which isn't completely unusual in of itself; she usually changes her mind, it's just that more often than not she doesn't actually tell anyone until it's way too late.
So anyways, she calls, and decides that we are moving this furniture. TODAY. Did I mention that it has been drizzling freezing rain here alllllllll day? The kind that turns into snow every now and again, and is incredibly cold.
So, in that moment, all of my plans go out the window. I, along with my father, and the boyfriend, are now expected to drop absolutely everything that we may have otherwise planned in order to accomodate her wishes.
This really bothers me. (For those who could not already tell) One, lately, she is an incredibly selfish person. I can understand a certain degree of selfishness. It's very important to take care of yourself, and do your own thing and all that. But on the other, much larger hand, she spends all of her time doing this. In her world, no one else matters, no one else exists. We're made aware of this frequently. Two, she can't seem to wrap her head around the idea that she is not the center of everyone's universe, that there are moments when others are not thinking about her. She really doesn't seem to understand why I am angry with her at the moment. The fact that everyone had to drop their plans for the day in order to wait on her doesn't seem wrong to her, not in the slightest. Thirdly, she is very fake lately. Not that "We don't air our dirty laundry in public" fake, but like completely different from one place to the other fake. In public, she's always telling people how proud she is of us, how she adores us so and whatnot. At home, it's definitely not the same story. At home, it's usually how difficult I am, and how everything I do, must be, in some way, an effort to ruin her life. She's all about being a "cowboy" and being "western", which irks me to no end. It's fine and dandy to like that sort of thing, but when you're pretending to be something you're not, it's just wrong. She grew up in suburban Ontario, has probably never milked a cow, and would freak right out if she got (gasp!) horse poo on her $300 sequined cowboy boots.
And the title? My father's advice. That even though I'm completely fuming, I shouldn't say anything to my mother about it. Because that will only make things worse. No, the healthy thign to do is to keep my feelings bottled up tightly inside. He said it's best not to poke the bear. (Of course, he said that after I'd hung up the phone on her. Which is probably the equivalent of sharpening a stick, and poking the bear right in the eye...)
The point is....well there really is no point. I really needed to get this out, and now, I don't feel quite so angry. I really will post something real, something knitting related, something with less angst, less drama, and more yarn.

*Really, it does seem angsty and dramatic. It seems like I'm being a moody teenager, making her parent out to be the bad guy. But this is how things go down there, and those who know me know it's true.