Oh Mary.

I hate being away from the blog. As you may have noticed, I have been out of commission for the past week or so because I was working a corporate event in Key Largo. The weather rocked, the event went smoothly, the clients were thrilled and best of all, it's now over.

When I'm on these gigs, my personal life ceases to exist for the duration of the event. We work around the clock and have very little personal time to ourselves. Any break we do get is usually spent sleeping or drinking, or passing out from drinking (a combination of the two, I suppose.) My job is stressful.

Anyway, what kills me about being away from the blog is the fact that even though I am not writing about the fascinating and exciting events in my life, they're still happening. And subsequently they pile up and now I have to struggle with what to write about, what to let go, or what to write about later while lying and saying that it's current.

Yes, dear readers, sometimes I lie in the blog. But, believe me, it's for your own good. The stories are much more interesting the way I write them. (Oprah, please do not judge me, nor berate me on television in front of your millions of adoring fans.)

So, as you'll notice, this is my second posting of the day. I just have a lot to write about.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I recently had a huge therapy-induced breakthrough. I, dear fans, finally found the strength to stand up to my mother. (Reference my posting entitled, "Shoot" for the entire story.)

As you all know, Mom's health has been on the shaky side for the past few years and my relationship with her has been strained ... well, since I was 8, but more intensely since the sick came along.

Mom's favorite game is, "What's the best way to get Susan into a frantic tizzy?" And she is very good. If it were a true sport, she'd totally go Pro. So, the way she accomplishes her goal (lately. There have been several variations over the years.) is by giving me bits of information in regard to her health, but only the most horriffic, worst-case scenario bits that may, or may not be a direct threat to her. Mom, more than once, has been admitted to the hospital, and will not allow anyone to tell me until the situation becomes so dire that she is moved into ICU. This is when she decides to notify me. Usually she does this via a smuggled-in cell phone that potentially endangers all heart-monitor and pace-maker wearers within a 65' radius.

She says that she doesn't tell me about her hospital visits because she "doesn't want to worry me." Dear people. This is bullshit. It is the opinion of The Princess that her mom waits for disaster so that when she upsets The Princess, she gets the most bang for her buck. You know ... a BB gun will sting, but an Uzi ... watch the fuck out. Anyway. I stood up to her, I put my foot down by saying that I refused to play her mind games any more and I could not participate in the craziness, nor did I have any intention of ever going back.

Then I quit therapy.

This was an awful decision, but it was financially motivated and since Oxford sucks ass and doesn't reimburse it's clientele (Michael Moore, did you focus on them? They would have been perfect.) and since each visit to Mary is $150 ($600 a month except for twice a year when it's $750) I had to take a break. So, being the confident, self-assured girl I am, I wrote her a letter.

I told her how much I appreciated the work she's done with me for the past couple of years and I told her about my most recent success with putting my foot down with my mom. I also said that I hoped we could start back up once E and I got a few mortgage payments under our belts and I got a chance to kick some Oxford ass. Then, a few nights later, I get a phone call from her.

Obviously, I don't answer. Perhaps less obviously, I also do not listen to her message. For several days.

Yes. I am even intimidated by voice mail.

Then I finally get up the nerve, and people. This is the sweetest message I've ever received. She tells me that she's proud of what I was able to do with my mother and that she'll miss me because she's truly enjoyed working with me. And, my favorite, "Susan, the name of the game is, "Whatever works best for you."

I love you Mary. Thank you so much for helping me grow into a person who can tell their mother off via phone. And, I look forward to our reunion when we can work on my fears about voice mail.