Guilt trip much?

As told from previous entry, my mother and I went on a dumping spree. This involved going through things she has refused to get rid of, even through a very nasty divorce, for example, her wedding gown. Back story, when my mother was married, she was a size 10. I’m quite a lot bigger than that, and I doubt my ass will ever be in a size 10. And if, by chance, I do become a size 10, I wouldn’t wear the wedding gown. Here are a few reasons:

1. I hate long sleeved wedding gowns. They’re dated and make me thing of times when chasity belts were popular.

2. You can tell the dress is from the 80’s. Mind you, it’s gorgeous, and my mother looked wonderful in it, but it’s not a dress I want to be wearing.

3. Lace. And beads. Around the neck, high up.

4. Headdress. As in, long head veil, but not a face veil, just hair.

5. Heavy, long, and very chiffon-y.

So now that we’ve got that cleared up…it’s just that it’s a very churchy, protestant dress. I was brought up protestant, and if I had a religious wedding, it would probably be under that denomination, but honestly. I don’t want that dress. So I tell her there’s very little chance I’ll be wearing that gown on my wedding day, as I have totally different tastes in gowns. That and…my god, I don’t plan on getting married before I’m out of school, and that’s 12 years.

Next thing. My baby christening outfit(s). Silk gown, knitted crochetted gown, matching bonnets and a blanket. They’re gorgeous. She put them in my charge NOW. NOW, before I’m even thinking about having children (and god, I want them badly but not right now) she’s giving this to me and saying its in my hands. I want it, yes, but do I need it right noowwww?

Finally, the baby book. She gave me the baby book to finish filling out. And I freaked out, because right after college it has “engagement” and then “first child” and then all kinds of things that scare the shit out of any 18 year old in their freshman year of college. Yes, I said it, it scares me. Even though I would love nothing more than to get out of college with my neuropsychology degree, be a PhD, and have a house with a wonderful husband and children…HELLO. Not ready for this stuff. Can’t deal all in one day.

*breathes*

I told her we’re making a hope chest. Or something to that affect. Because I can’t cart all of this with me when I have NO CLUE where I’ll be 12 months from now.

Or 12 years.

Speaking of where one will be, her and I discussed our…ah…moving. She said she’s proud of me for sticking in the last 5 years, which is when the majority of the moving happened. She said she thinks I came out of it quite well for being in quite a…er, well, to put it bluntly, fucked up situation. Apparently moving every year or two builds character. And made me ready to take on the college. I have to admit, she has a point. I have no problem with getting up and moving 800 miles on any given day, if I have the means to do so and it’s practical. I really don’t have huge issues with that. I find it exciting, which is a big part of me wanting to go to school in different places. Again, the character thing. Still, it’s sort of daunting thinking that next year I’ll probably be in a new school making more transitions. But it’s okay, I think.

I’ll deal, right?