  My Mom. As anybody who knows us siblings would tell you our mother is a weirdo just like us. Unfortunately, she is not a weirdo the way a stereotyped tree hugging hippie mom would be, a stereotyped artistic mom, but the stereotyped nagging and guilt tripping mom. I was first grade when they asked me: “Did you love your mom?”. It was mothers day, and when all the kids shouted yes, I was the only one to shout NO.
I guess it had been such a deep-seated resentment for her at such an early age. I don’t know if anyone knew about this, as I have a myriad of unusual experiences with my mom (the scar in my left wrist she gave me, the burn in my face when I helped her cook, the scar on my forehead when she was washing me when I was little and I bumped my head on the faucet… etc.). When I shouted no, the whole class looked at me as if it was wrong. But I guess my life then was not as candy coated as all the other kids.
The teacher began to ask me questions and all the children were looking at me and gathered around. “then who buys your underwear?” asked the teacher Ms. Bautista “My dad does!” I said knowing full well the real answer. It was later that week did my mom confront me and ask me about it. I eventually conceded, although I don’t remember if I said I did.
I remember that the thought of being thrown out into the street was scary and that I was desperate and vulnerable. Its clearer now why, early on I never really cared so much about my parents and I completely and quietly resented my mom the most. Even at times of peace I felt like they had better things to do that criticize me and compare me to my cousins.
Early on I noticed my mom loved spiting my dad by simply opposing him and saying he’s stupid. I learned to pit them against each other to get my way or out of trouble sometimes when I was around high school. I was terribly suicidal then, and I kinda understood why I was so clingy to and hated kissing relatives. When I had my first relationship it was like being addicted to a drug. When I am required to kiss strangers and people I don’t like freaked me out and since then I just shake hands or bow my head curtly. My dad earned my sympathy because how much mom bullies him. Its his character and personality I inherited with his casual disregard of how everyone else thought.
Mom kept telling us that dad was the most stubborn of all the men she courted. I am beginning to feel that dad married her for her looks, and not anything else. I can imagine a lot of those average joes who go for the chicks only to be whipped in the end. Of course the more successful males would just string together a lot of other women. I understand why dad also was faithful… he was tired and gave up on women. In moments about relationships he gives me the best advice.
He’s the one who is always ok with what I do and knows I can make anything work given the opportunity. Mom wants me to have a pretty airhead for a wife. She is worried that her line won’t look as meztiso as she would wish. That’s why she hated my GFs. The only girl they were ok with was Gerry and she was a total jerk and not to mentioned a Dyke who used her femininity to collect favors from guys who did not know better. Don’t get me wrong, she is bottom wrong in the classification of chicks… in GURPS terms she would just have an appearance of attractive.
I would do anything to spite mom, given my chance. I would sign a document to sell my organs for a million + dollars, put it in a time deposit, and give it to mom as a birthday gift as I walked into a hospital with a shotgun in my mouth. I would ask the lawyer to tell my mom: “here is your return of investment”. Shes famous and rich. What more can a conniving guilt tripping mom want. Only thing stopping me is knowing I want to be alive for someone other then myself.
(You all talk! I bet people would say. ) Yeah, I guess I am, but it still doesn’t delay my plans. I want to run away. To successfully run away I have to get a job and not tell anybody except the people who I care for about it. Maybe in a year I can make enough money to disappear with no address or way to communicate except for my blog and mail. I want to disappear and forget I had such a guilt tripping mom. Sometimes I wish I was born poor, dying or not at all as long as that I never met her. I know what her relatives really think of her. My titas I guess voiced it out in their habits and way of thinking. You can blame my lolo for that… but the old man is about to die… callous of me to say anything bad about him but I am not going to judge… and I don’t care. He was a good grandfather (I know what kind of man he can be, I experienced it once and I haven’t met anybody who would get mad like he was born form the fires of hell itself).
Mom reminds me of Catherine de Medici. Using us to attain a level of glory. GLORY!!! Why do I say this, knowing how Christine grew up and how she thinks (candy found her diary and the guys all know what it contained). She is amazingly shallow… she is a plastic, fake, poser and hypocrite. Strangely MOM is Christine.
And if mom is Christine then things become clear who she was to her sisters or what kind of people would grow adjacent to such people. Scary, dad’s personality is really the mix that broke the mold. Chris hates dad, I don’t know why (being that she was never got the lashing side of a think leather belt unlike me and gaspar). Anyway… That’s that, I’ll disappear. America is the best thing to happen to me. It’s a way to escape her… forever! I will never emerge. Anyway, she has Chris, who else does she need? He he he… I love using that. If Chris is all she ever wanted in a child, then she can have her. Its not filial envy, more of how the two faced virtues she exalts and uses be when it is in a time or manner she is most in need. I guess they deserve each other. 
