I cut my mother off. I actually cut my entire family off. They are no longer privy to ANY information regarding my personal life. They have lost those privileges due to their ridiculously misplaced set of priorities. And the fact that I always get shafted by them.
My mother officially lost her privileges a few weeks ago. I met a doctor from the same cultural background as myself (and I swore, SWORE, I would never EVER date someone from my culture again thanks to the demon I divorced), but he seemed nice, and so we went out a few times. Now, my general feelings towards the guy were that he's shoulder-shrug okay and maybe I should give it a chance (even though I know better). But after calling me a couple of times after our last date, he fell off the face of the earth and I wasn't inclined to pull him back up.
My mother on the other hand, asked me every day for THREE weeks whether I had heard from him, and made constant suggestions as to how I could get in contact with him without appearing desperate. She came up with schemes and plans involving common friends and acquaintances, plots to place myself in his neighborhood more often than ever before, even scripted phone conversations, you get the idea.
This is the same woman who six years ago forced me to go out with her nice Jewish stock broker, Al Mayer. He boasted to her that he'd just bought his mom a half-million dollar house and himself a brand new Benz convertible. That's all she needed to hear. The phone conversations I had with him made me very wary about the guy, but my mother was apparently trained by the teamsters, and eventually beat me down.
Turns out Al Mayer was really surprised my mom would set me up with someone who wasn't Jewish. Forkfull of penne arrested halfway to my mouth, I turn and say, "Yeah, she's cool like that" (internal monologue - Holy shit, what has she gotten me into now?!) Apparently Al Mayer's first name was short for ALI. And Mayer was shortened for some arabic name as well. Great, Jewish girl from Long Island out to dinner with an arab. Purrfect. Way to go mom.
This is also the same person who had no qualms about my dating someone my friends and I dubbed The Porn King. He was an attorney from Los Angeles, who's sister saw me at a wedding and thought we'd suit. The guy flew to New York for a Bar Mitzvah I was supposed to attend, but didn't due to what my family considered my misplaced priority on law school studies. (who needs to be a lawyer when you can just marry one?! DUH!) Of course I was brow-beaten into going out with him while he was still in town.
Ended up, the guy had some unsavory hobbies, including running a porn website on the side to "make some extra cash" and had an affinity for the ganja. Now, I'm no prude, and I would never tell anyone what to do, but smoking weed on a FIRST DATE is NOT the smartest way to make a good impression.
When I told my family about the porn site, they said that he appeared to be a very enterprising young man who knows how to make money. I see. When I told them about the weed, they blamed me for meeting him at his cousin's apartment where they smoked. "It's your fault for going upstairs" they said. Ahem.
And my mother has the nerve to be incensed that she's cut off. Get a hold of yourself woman!
It's amazing I've made it this long without getting addicted to drugs. But the padded walls in my bedroom have made a world of difference.