there are no two ways about it - my mother is a
babe.
she knows it, i know it, everyone that sees her knows it. but not only was this woman blessed with heavenly looks (she is also one of the last remaining women in LA without any surgical enhancements), she's a nearly perfect creation in many other ways. take for example her dancing skills, they're practically unparalleled by other non-professionals, or her cooking abilities; she can cook you up the most complicated exotic foods like it was nothing, no big deal, just food. you need something sewn? give her 5 minutes (she used to make my clothes for me when i was a kid). you're in a pickle? she'll be there in a jiffy.
she throws parties that go well into the wee small hours, all along playing the perfect hostess and getting her groove on simultaneously. she parties with my brother's friends, charms all of them, always with the utmost class, but damn she knows how to get down. she's quite hilarious, saying shit like "is that space for the retards?" in reference to handicap parking. she's most always got a big beautiful smile going as though the world were truly beautiful... no matter that she's been through her fair share of shit: a tumultuous and draining thirty five year marriage that went nowhere slow (and still continues to for that matter), a difficult son that at one point nearly shattered her high hopes by skipping out on med school and getting caught up in vegas (i'm happy to report he is now a pharmacist, we are all quite proud), and a daughter that ruined any chance of "a proper marriage and real success" with the branding of the word 'godspeed' across her chest. as a persian mother that prides herself on her children, that must be embarrassing on so many levels. let's not even talk about the fact that i have consistently not been around since i was oh, about 17; now going on almost 5 years of being out of state.
regardless, throughout all this my mom has had one thing that's made her feel unstoppable, dancing. like i said, she's a star when the musics going and all eyes are on her.
not too long ago, she had her uterus removed and was basically out of commission for 4 months which meant no dancing whatsoever. i'd never seen nor heard her so defeated. thankfully, she's now back to her normal self which means dancing every friday night at Moe's.
Moe's is what vincent gallo would probably call a present day single's bar. i say this because he once relayed to me a pretty amazing story about being 17 and utterly fascinated with the elder singles scene in NY. at that time, many years ago, few people divorced and the ones that were older and single were the crazies and uglies (remember, this was pre-internet dating). he explained the scene as taking place in dark little piano bars with the ugliest and saddest of people singing to their little hearts' content, trying to find another body to shack up with.
I found myself wondering what gallo would think of this place and laughing that i too had my own experience with the elder singles scene.
on this trip home, i indluged my mother on an escapade to Moe's, mostly because there are so few things i do or am able to do that make her happy. but every time i go, i promise myself i'll never go again, that its the last time, no more. but when she asks me, almost pleading, tears visibly welling up when she expresses how my whole life she couldn't wait for me to be old enough to go out dancing with her and how i have abondeded her, i give in and comply. i become the abiding daughter for the night.
its the same thing every time. i go with some slightly non-awesome vibes, at first i'm a bit sour and do not want to dance amongst the old, but finally realize how silly i am and dance my little heart away to a terrible cover band playing j.t. hits from a few years ago. it always takes me an hour or so to stop hating but i eventually get to the point where i stop thinking how sad the unreal amounts of plastic surgery are and how pathetic some of these grandpas are trying to hit on younger babes in their 50s. but why should i judge? i suppose we're all lonely in some way. furthermore, not all old people are grandparents or retired or in diapers. let them party too!
still, do you know what a weird thing it is to walk into a club/bar where your mother is greeted left and right, double teamed by a dancing duo of younger men or told that people feel lucky to know her? can you understand how strange it must feel to be dancing with the woman who's womb you came out of and men speaking to you so as to inquire about your "sister"? i usually give a hearty "she's flattered i'm sure" laugh then insist she's actually my mom. these are strange things for a daughter to witness.
then again, my mom and i don't have a very traditional relationship. we really were more like sisters than mother/daughter. we'd fight over clothes and what to wears, talk openly about men as though she weren't still married to my father... sometimes she likes to take it too far by revealing inappropriate things like how long its been since she's had good sex. in retaliation, i like to tell her things like what great sex i've recently been having or relay things like "look mom, i got my second tattoo!" we are opposite in most ways. she lives in heels, i can't even walk a minute in them. she gets dolled up and dresses in trendy clothing; i rarely put on lipgloss and most times dress like an old lady. she flirts with guys and is super witty and funny; i get shy and awkward around cute boys and the only way i make people laugh is by accident. she gets the party started; i like to sit and watch others start the party.
but as different as we are and as strange as our relationship may be, its what we have and i'm absolutely grateful. i can only aspire to one day become half the woman she is.
mommy n' me.
kiana getting her groove one.
