July 8, 2008

This could be awwkward....

Mommy reads my blog.

Do I care? No. There's nothing here for me to be ashamed of (and even if there were, it's my blog!)

So . . . why am I mentioning this? Because Mommy didn't like how I characterized her in a previous post. Hmm . . . What was it that I said?

She's prissy, ultra-ultra-feminine, a shopaholic, a do-it-my-way-or-hit-the-highway, emotional sort of person.


Well, that is you Mommy. But, I suppose in the interest of fairness, I can expand on that a little more.

My Mother, if you ever meet here, is one of those gorgeous individuals with absolutely no concept of her own beauty. She doesn't dress to impress other people; she dresses to make herself feel good. She still has (most) of her figure and she makes the most of it when she dresses. Males between 13 and 80 still double take after her.

Consequently her looks have bought her plenty of ill-will from other people (well, women and/or hateful ass bitches) who believe that, despite the fact that my mother has been happily married to the same man for over 20 years (and with him for 25), she must be looking for some extra play or she is deliberately flirting. Sad part is, most of the time, these men are flirting with her, but she's so wrapped up in her own world she either ignores it and thinks they must be teasing her.

(This part of the explanation never sounds good, because most women remain aware of their effect on men and exploit that power to the best of their ability. My mother doesn't. She's just that clueless).

So, this has caused difficulty for her, even with her own daughter.

How would you like to be the 14-year old whose mom is considered hotter than her?
When the objects of your affection hit on your mom instead of you?
And she's still freaking clueless?

Between 14-18 I hated Mommy.

I still cry a little thinking about it. Even knowing my mother like I do, I still cannot believe that any one woman can be that damn dense.

But she is.
It's who she is.

And it didn't help that I'm considered a replica of her. Same face (except for the eyes and lips), same build, same voice, same looks. All of it, but bigger. About 50% bigger.

I'm the "What the hell went wrong there?" version.

Now that I've left my teen years behind, I am (grinding teeth) grateful for that experience. It taught me a few things:
  1. Any man who hits on my mom gets dumped the same day. (obviously)
  2. I cannot afford to be that clueless about the opinions of people around me. I don't have to care, but I do need to be aware.
  3. Whatever I've got, I better flaunt it.
  4. Some people really do float through life unaware of what's going on around them.
  5. High-mindedness is good, but no one ever climbed the corporate ladder being high-minded.

Mommy, if you read this post, just know . . .a decade later and I'm still not over some of that stuff. It would be really nice if you came down and lived in the real world for a little while.

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