Welp. Iiiii just kind of got into a large fight with my mother. And I don't even have Travis here to complain and sniffle at about it, since he's out hunting. Yay. Sorry, LJ-friends. You're up.
I was over at her place for dinner (apparently I am a bad child and never go see her, or something), and, you know, things were okay. We ate, we chatted, we sort of watched Van Helsing in the background as I entertained the Eri-cat.
Of course, the chatting eventually turned sort of political, since she has a habit of watching news stations of all sorts (Canadian and American) when she's on her days off. We always tend to get a bit scrappy during these discussions - I'm a socialist, and she's of the opinion that socialists are head-in-the-sand want-all-the-tax-monies communists (and yet she detests the Conservative party and thinks they're a bunch of crooks. idek.). But usually it doesn't ever get terrible. That's fine with me. Insult my politics all you like; disagree with me about welfare and spending and social programs. Whatever. We did actually agree on a few things tonight, though - mostly education-related - which was a bit unusual, but all the better.
Aaaaand then the topic dipped towards the USA's elections, and she mentioned part of her wanted Obama to win, and another part of her wanted to see Romney in there. I grimaced and groaned and asked her why she would ever want to see Romney elected, and she said, and I quote: [something pretty goddamn racist/possibly sexist]"Because maybe someone needs to stand up for the white man."
I gaped at her for about a second, got up, thanked her for dinner, told her I'd see her in six months (which was probably unnecessary, but goddamnit, there are reasons I don't really go over there a whole lot - she's also got a history of homophobic comments), got my bag, and left. I didn't really trust myself to say anything else, and it would've been all the worse had I engaged right there and then, I know it.
She of course called about five minutes after I walked in my door, demanding to know what the hell, what I thought I was doing eating her food that she cooked and then storming out and slamming the door (which, to be honest, I only minorly slammed because it didn't close right when I tried the first time - the door handle's been fussy for years). I explained that what she said was offensive and disgusting, and she said "well obviously we can't talk about politics any more" - which I agreed with - and then went all "MY OPINIONS" on me. I thanked her again for dinner and told her I wasn't really interested in continuing the discussion, that I didn't even know what to say. She hung up on me.
Stace had a period where she didn't talk to mom for a few months after they had an argument. I wonder how long this one's going to last... because, damn. I know her. She won't think for a second that what she said was the least bit wrong, and won't apologise for it.
...'Course, I don't think what I did was wrong, either, given the context - but I still feel like shit because of what happened and have an inexplicable urge to just go bawl somewhere.