My mother, the "agent"

I wish my mother was an actual competent agent with connections and credintials instead of some self-appointed "volunteer" headhunter that makes phone calls to companies on my behalf saying she knows a young professional with a BFA and makes up bizarro stories about how she's an art teacher and is trying to find employment for someone who is in "no way her daughter". It's one thing to use your connections. It's another thing to just meddle. My mother, the professional. My mother is not an art teacher. Throwing clashing splashes of color on a wall and safety pinning pillow shams together does not an art teacher make.

My mother finds all these "leads" from calling people and gushing about how talented and established I am without ever telling them anything about me. It's the cold call equivilent of tabloid news. She's started doing it for Braden too, much to his chagrin. We're adults and even though it's unwarrented, there's no saying "no." The word "no" is temporary in my Mom's mind, like a wart you file down but just comes back. It does make me wish we cut ourselves off from her market, aka the Triangle, since she's lived here for 50 years and claims to have connections with everybody.

Braden's mom is a professional artist. She's involved in organizations and galleries and has a website and everything. My mother knows how to put a classy and stylish outfit together, but I wouldn't exactly call that art.

Mom rant over.

She might be on to somthing. She introduced me to my teaching job now, which is very promising but only part time. I love it though. I love my students - they make me laugh and I continue to be impressed with their talent. I don't think I was that talented at 16. If I can help these students get the part they want or get into the conservatory they want, that would be a profound accomplishment. Losing on everything I worked for, but providing a better oppurtunity for someone else? I suppose that's what teaching is all about.