Saturday we met mom and a couple of her friends for breakfast at a old sports bar dive north of the Pearl. They had come up for a country music concert and had a good time staying up late on Friday. Mom's hand tremor looked really bad at times, which made me start thinking about mine. It's probably a benign essential tremor, but neurological disorders are puzzling for the lack of tests available for diagnosis.

Saturday night we went to the ballet, which premiered three modern pieces, whose choreographers were present. The dancers all looked very strong, and of course, the choreography seemed challenging. Afterwards we went over to Hilary-Rachel-Casey's house with Sango for a kegger. The place was packed by 11 o'clock, but as usually we were the first to leave. Sango was getting exhausted anyway. It's fun to socialize with everyone outside of school, but understanding the drunk slang through the din of 25 people squished in a kitchen is tough for Naomi.

I nearly wrote mom an email about her smoking and drinking. We've talked about it seriously during the holidays at the end of 2005. But since then nothing's changed, and I am not sure if she's really made any real effort to quit either. That's what upsets me. A big part of me wants to tell her she's selfish; I told her what the most likely consequences of smoking and drinking hard at her age were - a stroke, heart attack, and dementia - and that she could place the responsibility of her care in my hands prematurely. And then there is the matter of being functional for her grandchildren. I don't think she cares about living to a ripe old age, but I can't give her a morphine OD if she is gorked from a stroke or dementia, like she thinks. On the other hand maybe calling her selfish is being selfish on my part.