Raiders of the Mom
“It’s because you’re fat!”
That is what Mom told me after I vomited all of my troubles from the bulls*t I dealt with at the internship to how VD treated me.
Mom staged a late morning surprise raid on my apartment while I was in the middle of using my rabbit. I completely freaked out when she started banging on my door. For a minute I was running my apartment nekkid screaming I was in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do.
I hid the rabbit between my mattresses and tried to clean up my apartment as best as possible shoving all my clothes in the closet and drawers while getting dressed at the same time.
Then I gave up because I knew she would just find fault with everything in my place. I opened up the door and this how our conversation went.
“Omigod! How much weight did you gain?”
“Good to see you too.”
“This isn’t good. Have you seen your face? I am surprised you haven’t broken out in acne yet.”
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I don’t need to call. I’m your mother. Union rules.”
“Ok fine.”
“Where is your scale?”
“Why?”
“I want to weigh you. I want to see how much you have gained.”
“Mom!”
“I want to see how much you have gained. I think you have at least gained 15 pounds. Where is it?
“It’s broken.” I lied.
“You broke your scale. Ohmigod! It’s worse than I thought.”
“No. The batteries are dead.”
My mom began to pick up my Juicy Couture outfits and H&M clothes that were dumped all over the floor and proceeded to fold them.
She began to
“My goodness. You are so lucky to be able to afford so many beautiful things and be able to throw them on the ground. I forgot. What do you do again? Oh wait. Nothing.”
I grabbed the clothes out of her hands and then she began go through my kitchen grabbing a garbage can and tossing boxes of cinnamon toast crunch, Hagen Daz and leftovers from Boston Market.
“No wonder your overweight. Eating carbs and all this fast food.”
I began to get really upset and started crying. She looked at me and asked me why was I crying.
“I am under a lot of stress.”
“Stress! Stress? Have you seen the news lately? Losing everything you have and having the government turn their back on you is stress. You’re just fat and lazy.”
At this point I was bawling I didn’t know what to do. I mean my Mom and I have our problems but this all came out from nowhere. I just ran into my bathroom and closed the door. It was just like when I was in high school.
Mom kept banging on the door but I told her to go away. I told her she was being mean and I had been through a lot the last couple of months so please leave me alone. She kept attacking me some more why I was fat and what was stressful for me. I asked her why she was attacking me.
She slipped a piece of paper underneath my door. It was an article from the New York Times. It was about girls who go to the Ivies to become lawyers and other high rated professions only to put I aside to become mothers. Wiping away tears I read the article where a lot of women including a Yale graduate have set up a game plan to leave work to have children when they are 30. It was funny because I always thought this debate was settled. It wasn’t a choice of work or children because you did both. My mom chose children but I knew kids who mom’s did both
After I finished the article I opened up the door to see mom cleaning up my apartment. She looked up at me from a pile of clothes she just folded.
“Want to get lunch?” she asked
We ended up at Barney Greengrass where I picked at my salad with my sunglasses on to hide my puffy red eyes. Mom lived dangerously with her corn beef sandwich.
“So when did you end your internship?”
I began to tell her the whole drama. Troll ho and the stupid 90210 girl who attacked me about the messenger and how VD took advantage and abused me while I helped her out
That is when Mom said it again “You’re fat.”
“What the hell does that have to do with it?”
“Everything. They already resent you because of your Sugar Daddy lifestyle and being fat is just more of an incentive to hate you.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to with this. VD is mean to you because you look like s**t. I can’t believe you went to a fashion show looking like that. She must have been desperate for help to ask you. Of course she acted like you were beneath her. If she treated you like equals she would have looked like a loser too.”
“Friends aren’t supposed act like that.”
“Honey. Girls like you and VD don’t have friends. Just assets. And when those assets go bad there is no reason to stick around.”
“That’s pretty shallow Mom.”
“It’s a shallow world and I hope you figured that out.”
I didn’t say anything and sipped my diet coke through the straw. For a minute or two we were preoccupied with our food and thoughts when Mom started up again.
“When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”
“I don’t know, couple of weeks.”
“Well your rabbit is still pretty warm so I figure it has been longer than a few weeks.”
“Ewww. Mom. How did you..”
“I found it between the mattresses when I was making your bed.”
My mom began to pick away at the crust of rye on her plate.
“Did you read that article?”
“Yes.”
“I understand what these girls are doing. Raising a family and having a job are hard enough by themselves. But together it is near impossible. It doesn’t look good for the women because now this article is straight from the horse’s mouth that women who enters the corporate workforce will be leaving anyway to have children so what is the point of hiring them.”
“Unless they are lesbians.”
“Don’t be cute. The truth is a woman in the corporate workforce has to work twice as hard as any many to prove that they have the staying power.”
“So is this article the reason why you went on this rampage?”
Mom was quiet and began to stir her coffee.
“I have been having nightmares about you.. You are living in some cheesy apartment on the lower east side because of your low class boyfriend who has ripped off your trustfund. Each one varies. But in the end you are all alone and I can’t do anything to help you.”
I didn’t say anything picking at my salad.
“When I read this article, I realized what these girls were doing was risky. Relying on a man is a job onto itself. You can’t give him a reason to stray which means getting dinner on the table and keeping the house in order. And if he does you better be ready to provide for yourself and your children because lawyers cost money and divorcing doesn’t happen overnight. You can damn will be sure he won’t be chipping in. “
She stirred her coffee some more and took a sip.
“These girls. At least they have skills or some type of degree or certification that guaruntee they will be able to put food on the table. And then I ask myself what does my youngest daughter have? How will she be able to survive?”
“I’ll be alright.”
“Do you have any skillsets? Do you have a network to help you? And don’t say VD because it is obvious to me she has written you off. As for the trustfund girlfriends they have their own issues.”
“I’ll figure something out. I promise.”
“I hope you do. Because we won’t always be there for you.”
That is what Mom told me after I vomited all of my troubles from the bulls*t I dealt with at the internship to how VD treated me.
Mom staged a late morning surprise raid on my apartment while I was in the middle of using my rabbit. I completely freaked out when she started banging on my door. For a minute I was running my apartment nekkid screaming I was in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do.
I hid the rabbit between my mattresses and tried to clean up my apartment as best as possible shoving all my clothes in the closet and drawers while getting dressed at the same time.
Then I gave up because I knew she would just find fault with everything in my place. I opened up the door and this how our conversation went.
“Omigod! How much weight did you gain?”
“Good to see you too.”
“This isn’t good. Have you seen your face? I am surprised you haven’t broken out in acne yet.”
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I don’t need to call. I’m your mother. Union rules.”
“Ok fine.”
“Where is your scale?”
“Why?”
“I want to weigh you. I want to see how much you have gained.”
“Mom!”
“I want to see how much you have gained. I think you have at least gained 15 pounds. Where is it?
“It’s broken.” I lied.
“You broke your scale. Ohmigod! It’s worse than I thought.”
“No. The batteries are dead.”
My mom began to pick up my Juicy Couture outfits and H&M clothes that were dumped all over the floor and proceeded to fold them.
She began to
“My goodness. You are so lucky to be able to afford so many beautiful things and be able to throw them on the ground. I forgot. What do you do again? Oh wait. Nothing.”
I grabbed the clothes out of her hands and then she began go through my kitchen grabbing a garbage can and tossing boxes of cinnamon toast crunch, Hagen Daz and leftovers from Boston Market.
“No wonder your overweight. Eating carbs and all this fast food.”
I began to get really upset and started crying. She looked at me and asked me why was I crying.
“I am under a lot of stress.”
“Stress! Stress? Have you seen the news lately? Losing everything you have and having the government turn their back on you is stress. You’re just fat and lazy.”
At this point I was bawling I didn’t know what to do. I mean my Mom and I have our problems but this all came out from nowhere. I just ran into my bathroom and closed the door. It was just like when I was in high school.
Mom kept banging on the door but I told her to go away. I told her she was being mean and I had been through a lot the last couple of months so please leave me alone. She kept attacking me some more why I was fat and what was stressful for me. I asked her why she was attacking me.
She slipped a piece of paper underneath my door. It was an article from the New York Times. It was about girls who go to the Ivies to become lawyers and other high rated professions only to put I aside to become mothers. Wiping away tears I read the article where a lot of women including a Yale graduate have set up a game plan to leave work to have children when they are 30. It was funny because I always thought this debate was settled. It wasn’t a choice of work or children because you did both. My mom chose children but I knew kids who mom’s did both
After I finished the article I opened up the door to see mom cleaning up my apartment. She looked up at me from a pile of clothes she just folded.
“Want to get lunch?” she asked
We ended up at Barney Greengrass where I picked at my salad with my sunglasses on to hide my puffy red eyes. Mom lived dangerously with her corn beef sandwich.
“So when did you end your internship?”
I began to tell her the whole drama. Troll ho and the stupid 90210 girl who attacked me about the messenger and how VD took advantage and abused me while I helped her out
That is when Mom said it again “You’re fat.”
“What the hell does that have to do with it?”
“Everything. They already resent you because of your Sugar Daddy lifestyle and being fat is just more of an incentive to hate you.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to with this. VD is mean to you because you look like s**t. I can’t believe you went to a fashion show looking like that. She must have been desperate for help to ask you. Of course she acted like you were beneath her. If she treated you like equals she would have looked like a loser too.”
“Friends aren’t supposed act like that.”
“Honey. Girls like you and VD don’t have friends. Just assets. And when those assets go bad there is no reason to stick around.”
“That’s pretty shallow Mom.”
“It’s a shallow world and I hope you figured that out.”
I didn’t say anything and sipped my diet coke through the straw. For a minute or two we were preoccupied with our food and thoughts when Mom started up again.
“When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”
“I don’t know, couple of weeks.”
“Well your rabbit is still pretty warm so I figure it has been longer than a few weeks.”
“Ewww. Mom. How did you..”
“I found it between the mattresses when I was making your bed.”
My mom began to pick away at the crust of rye on her plate.
“Did you read that article?”
“Yes.”
“I understand what these girls are doing. Raising a family and having a job are hard enough by themselves. But together it is near impossible. It doesn’t look good for the women because now this article is straight from the horse’s mouth that women who enters the corporate workforce will be leaving anyway to have children so what is the point of hiring them.”
“Unless they are lesbians.”
“Don’t be cute. The truth is a woman in the corporate workforce has to work twice as hard as any many to prove that they have the staying power.”
“So is this article the reason why you went on this rampage?”
Mom was quiet and began to stir her coffee.
“I have been having nightmares about you.. You are living in some cheesy apartment on the lower east side because of your low class boyfriend who has ripped off your trustfund. Each one varies. But in the end you are all alone and I can’t do anything to help you.”
I didn’t say anything picking at my salad.
“When I read this article, I realized what these girls were doing was risky. Relying on a man is a job onto itself. You can’t give him a reason to stray which means getting dinner on the table and keeping the house in order. And if he does you better be ready to provide for yourself and your children because lawyers cost money and divorcing doesn’t happen overnight. You can damn will be sure he won’t be chipping in. “
She stirred her coffee some more and took a sip.
“These girls. At least they have skills or some type of degree or certification that guaruntee they will be able to put food on the table. And then I ask myself what does my youngest daughter have? How will she be able to survive?”
“I’ll be alright.”
“Do you have any skillsets? Do you have a network to help you? And don’t say VD because it is obvious to me she has written you off. As for the trustfund girlfriends they have their own issues.”
“I’ll figure something out. I promise.”
“I hope you do. Because we won’t always be there for you.”
posted by Pradaprincess at 10:36 PM
12 Comments:
you have got to be kidding me. i read this because it's kind of funny sometimes, but "your rabbit was still warm"? i'm SURE your mom knows what a rabbit is. and that she would bring it up if she found it. i'm glad you're having fun making this shit up.
If it's true, I can only thank the powers that be for giving me supportive, warm parents. If it isn't, you should write a novel. And buy spellchecker.
face it, you're VD's fugly friend
Someone so fat and ugly shouldn't be wearing beautiful clothes like H&M. Get yourself down to an op shop stat!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I run into chicks like you every single day here, and I'm glad at least one of them pays for being such a moron.
Let me guess, you idolize Paris Hilton?
H&M IS for fat people. didn't any of you read the article on how Karl Lagerfield protested about designing his H&M line since he didn't want his designs worn on plus-sizes??!
UH UH, H&M is for coke lovin' skinny gurls like Kate Moss, get it right!
Ok, I admit that, after reading this one post of yours, I want to punch you face a few times. And maybe kick you in back a few times too.
Be that as it may, your Mum sounds awesome and actually gave you some excellant advice. She knows what she is on about.
Stop whinging and get your fucking shit together.
Your mom sounds hot, very dominating - i like that.
I bet she likes fucking the gardener, if not then i'm available
Looks like one person got it right. This is fiction.
It's not just you PP, it's every stupid ass wanna be a celebrity 20 something chick living in the city. Searching for something more fabulous out of life then realizing, once they hit 30, it's not there.
Haha fatty.
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