Yesterday after school I met mom at the Intelligentsia at W Sunset Blvd– she obviously wanted to play the mother and daughter game again. And since I wanted to make her satisfied, and not turn to dad with her concerns regarding me and my night time habits, I thought; allright.
Sitting there, sipping our bitter organic morrocan mint, the silence was only broken by moms bizarre statements about the my appearance(she doesn’t like ripped jeans, although I tried to tell her that what I paid for them is equivalent of the price of a small car), or about Obama (she doesn’t like him either). Myself, looking around, hoping not to meet ‘anyone I know’, browsing google for different ways to commit suicide on my iphone.
Mom’s staring at the other customers, and in particular their lattes and cappuccinos, raising her eyebrows in chock of the thought of so many calories at one time.
– So, Wins, how’s school?
– It’s great! (instantly turning to lie mode) My teachers love me and…
As I continue telling her exactly what she wants to hear, I see her mind drifting off. She’s staring at the other guests again. And when I’m finished;
– I’m so glad that everything is going well for you
Then we leave, relieved and my mom assured that she’s a mother, a real mother, and that our relation is nice and, of course, normal.
Bagus Pandega at Roh Projects
14 hours ago
1 comment:
It may sound wierd, but I find some comfort in the fact that even mothers who aren't absent can still be... absent. Love your blog by the way!
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