Transcript of the phone conversation I had with my Hardass Asian Mama the other night:
H.A.M.: Jen, I need to talk to you about something important.
JEN: Uh, okay, but I kinda need to go…[internal monologue: Oh shit, what the fuck did I do now?]
H.A.M.: It’s about–
JEN: [The fact that I haven't made millions despite my Ivy League education that you paid for, and am therefore kind of a failure? Or that time I had sex in your house years ago and you overheard? *dies* Or the fact that I haven't yet given you a grandchild, which also means I'm kind of a failure?]
H.A.M.: It’s about that Lady in Purple.
JEN: Oooooh! Oh yeah! That lady! Our Jack Nicholson! Great! What about her? [Hallelujah! Praise Jesus! Painfully awkward conversation averted!]
H.A.M.: I don’t think she’s a lady. I mean, how do you know she’s a lady?
JEN: Uh, um, I don’t know. I just assumed she was. I think I’ve seen her wear earrings before.
JEN: I mean, I dunno, maybe she’s not a lady?
H.A.M.: You know, Chiang Kai-shek had a granddaughter or some relation who liked to dress like a man. Maybe she’s Chiang Kai-shek’s granddaughter.
JEN: Wow. Weird.
H.A.M.: Yeah, weird. So, about that time you had sex in my house…
Okay, so that last part is made-up, but in related news (not to sex in my parents’ house, but to the Maybe-Lady in Purple)…the Lakers evened up the series with the Rockets last night, 111-98. Boo.
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