Thanks to you mom, I was a good catholic for three months
After 81 days of cohabiting with my dearest mother in my tiny one-bedroom, she has left the premises and released me from 24/7 filial obligations. Finally a sweet taste of freedom.... and it tastes so good...! Now that I can reflect on the past three months, what have I endured?
1. Having to cope with home cooking and drinking wine every night with my mom; hence, gaining so many kilos;
2. Having to cope with my Mom every morning at 6 a.m. while she commands me to wear descent clothes (i.e., I am really not into fashion); I can still hear her yelling:
Mom: Is that what you are going to wear today?
Me: yeah.. why, what's wrong?
Mom: Aren't you ashamed of yourself?
Me: Nope... why?
Mom: Look at yourself, what will your colleagues say about you?
Me: I'm secluded in my office, mom.
Mom: What will your male colleagues say?
Me: They don't f&%%#g care, they have better things to do than checking me out, mother.
Mom: What will your boss say?
Me: .... .... My boss doesn't even know I exist, mom!!!
Mom: Look at yourself. That's why you are still single at your age.
Me: Ma, do you really think a guy is interested in a thirty-something bag who's living with her mom?
Mom: How dare you talk to me like that, you are the fruit of my womb, I cherished you!
Me: God, now you are a catholic.
Mom: How dare you invoke the name of the Lord.
Me: Ma, you are not even a catholic. Forget it. Doesn't work with me.
3. Having to cope with my mom every Sunday morning because I am not wearing my Sunday-best for mass.
4. Getting into a 10 minute argument with my mom every night because she doesn't let me watch "Temptation Island" or some other uncivilized reality TV shows.
5. Having to listen to classical music all weekend.
6. 81 days of backache for having slept in a baby-sized bed.
7. 81 nights of mosquitoe bites because I was sleeping in the living room which faces a garden with trees.
8. Not being able to commit any venial sins. Well, is it good or bad?
And now.., what will I miss?
1. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Okay, well... her presence, I guess.
Thanks for having been around, Mom.
Labels: Mommy dearest, Self derision
Goodbye Prom Night...
My good friend X asked me whether I wanted to be his date for a black-tie graduation event. What a tempting thought... Men in black-tie have always been my visual fantasy. I'm not really interested in admiring the aesthetics of a black and white austerity of a perfectly tailored suit, but rather enjoy awaiting the end of the ball when undergrad punks in rental black-tie suits get wasted with cheap college-sponsored kegs and dance to the decibels of Eminem or Britney Spears; a little tour here and there in the privacy of a 4 star-hotel ladies room to steal the freshness of pristine college girls. A little breach of decorum... It reminds me of penguins during the coital season. I'm being sarcastic because I've never been to the prom or any graduation balls. And I never will because as the years go by, I will become, age-wise, persona non grata. I guess missing proms and college balls was the greatest loss to my post-adolescent, college and graduate school education. I went through the hell of a catholic high school education. Do you really think nuns would allow 17 year-old girls to attend any socials with fully pubescent 17 year-old boys? At college, I pressed my mom like a spoiled brat so that she buys me a cocktail dress for the first-year ball. And so she did. It was a beautiful -so to speak- black velvet dress with a fluffy silk thing at the bottom. I looked like a perfect meringue. Regretfully, I've never got the chance to wear the dress to the Ball. I was feeling so uncomfortable that my girlfriends helped me relax with a whisky from a cheap liquor store. I got wasted and smashed in my girlfriend's bedroom and crawled all night to her bathroom. Anyway, I didn't have a date so what's the point of going to a posh ball, non-accompanied? In grad school, I had a boyfriend, hence a perfect partner for a perfect first semester ball with a prefect dress that I bought for the occasion at the local Gap store. Cheap when I think about it now but at that time, it cost me my week budget. I even bought 2 tickets for the ball $20 each, one for my then boyfriend and one for myself. A killer for my student budget, you can imagine. I was so excited to finally go to a ball. Slight problem, I caught the strongest flu ever the night before and missed the ball. I cried for my mom, not because of the flu but for missing yet again the ball, for the 3rd time in my life. My then boyfriend nevertheless went to the ball with my good friend X and had the time of his life. Most probably because I wasn't there. He even had a little fling of infidelity that night. Bastard. Once fully recovered, I promised myself that I would go to the grad school graduation ball, which was to be held at the Waldorf Astoria. I again bought the tickets, this time for $ 95 a piece. But guess what? I missed it again for the 4th time because my mom insisted I accompanied her to South Beach, Miami, on that very same day... Am I doomed for life, not suited to attend any balls? Will I also miss my own wedding ball, as my friend X likes to speculate? Maybe I should decline my friend's invitation to his university event and watch TV between the four walls of my apartment. Besides, I've got nothing suitable to wear. Since my cohabitation with my mom, I've gained so many kilos. Yes, I think it's much wiser. I won't go. Labels: Relationships et al., Self derision
