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Helicopter Honeymoon

, , , , , , | Related | September 18, 2022

My mom is not a helicopter mother over my daily activities. She’s only like that about “unsupervised” holidays. I am never allowed to go on a holiday only with my friends, let alone with a boyfriend. However, I can invite them to come along on my family’s holiday.

She often recounts her younger times when she went on holidays with just her sisters and their friends. Then, she would smoke and drink alcohol. Her sister would be making out with boys. She’s so paranoid that I would do the same.

I’ve accepted the fact, and I just choose to think that she doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me. I can still hang out with my friends without her and even go on dates on weekends (in the daytime) anyway. However, it went even further on one occasion.

Me: “Everything seems to be in order. I just need to confirm the headcount for the wedding caterer. Oh, I also booked the flights to [Small Island]. We’ll leave the day after the wedding. [Fiancé] is very excited to go diving again.”

Mom: “Did you also book tickets for me?”

Me: “Huh?”

Mom: “I’m going on the holiday too, right?”

My brain went blank out of shock.

Sister: “MOM! She’s going on a honeymoon! Why would you tag along?! Do you want to listen to them have sex or something?”

Mom: “What?! Nooo! [Mom’s Friend] went with her son and daughter-in-law on their honeymoon.”

Sister: “Well, she’s horrible! Don’t be like her! Let [My Name] be!”

Me: “Yes, please. Just… No.”

Mom: “Fiiiine. The island is too remote, anyway.”

Me: “…”

Now I live six timezones away from her.

Time To Cut Those Apron Strings Before They Get Singed

, , , , | Related | August 18, 2022

I was way into my thirties and had been in a relationship with my boyfriend for two years when we decided to go on a holiday together. My mom, who became extremely religious after my father died, freaked out when I told her about my plan.

Me: “I’ll be going on a holiday for a few days with [Boyfriend].”

Mom: “What? I am not permitting you to!”

Me: “Well, this is not a request for permission, actually.”

Mom: “How dare you?!”

Me: “…”

Mom: “It’s [Boyfriend]’s fault! He’s turning you [slur for another religion]! It’s the greatest sin! You’re going to Hell, and you’re dragging me there, too!”

Me: “I think I’m too old for you to still bear my sins.”

Mom: “You’re going to Hell, and you’re dragging me there, too!”

She ran to her room and locked herself in.

I said, to an empty space:

Me: “He’s an atheist.”

Poop Is Natural, Too, But I’m Not Putting It On My Face

, , , , , | Friendly | July 29, 2022

A friend just joined a beauty MLM (multi-level marketing company) and was trying to either rope their friends into joining, too, or nagging us to buy their products. One day, it was my time to get the unsolicited offer.

Friend: “You need to try this face cream! It’s amazing!”

Me: “No, thank you. I am using a cream from my dermatologist.”

Friend: “Why do you have that?”

Me: “I have sensitive and dry skin. This one works really well.”

Friend: “My cream is also great for dry skin. It’s all-natural, so you shouldn’t be afraid about it.”

Me: “No. As I said, I have sensitive skin.”

Friend: “But it’s natural! You can’t have a problem with natural ingredients!”

Me: “Eggs are natural, but they also give me a rash. So, really… no.”

Friend: “But it’s natural!”

I ignored the many texts after that and eventually had to block the number. I hope they find a better job soon.

Your Concern Is Touching, Really

, , , , | Related | July 15, 2022

I used to pick up my mom from her work with my motorbike. One day, after a long day at my work, my motorbike slipped on some sand on the otherwise clean and dry asphalt. It was on a bend and I was going fifty to sixty km per hour, so I fell on my left side and slid for fifty meters.

Other road users came to my aid fast and made sure I was safe on the side of the road. I had long, deep scratches on my helmet, I ruined the left arm of my jacket, I had a gash on my left knee, and I couldn’t lean my weight on my left leg. My motorbike could still be turned on, but the left footrest was completely broken off and the gear was stuck in third. My motorbike went into neutral when I press the brake, so I could still ride it.

Being in Indonesia, there was no roadside service to help, so I needed to still try to ride the bike home myself. I knew that it wouldn’t be easy alone, and it would be impossible with a passenger. I definitely wouldn’t be able to pick my mom up. So, I called her.

Me: “Hey, Mom. I can’t pick you up today.”

Mom: “What? Why?”

Me: “I fell with my motorbike at [Street].”

Mom: “And you can’t still pick me up?”

Me: “The bike is stuck in third, and the left footstep is gone. No. I can’t ride with you. I don’t even know if I can ride all the way home.”

Mom: “How should I get home, then?”

Me: “I don’t know. You need to find a way. I’m going now. Bye.”

I just hung up without waiting for a response. When I’m in a traumatic situation, my brain disassociates and I go into an automatic survival mode. I don’t think, just do. So, I just rode the bike back as slow and as fast as the third gear allowed me. I stopped at a garage close-ish to home. The owner was surprised that I was able to ride back. He then gave me iodine for my wound, a glass of fresh tea, and a ride home since they couldn’t fix the bike right away.

I cried my heart out as soon as I hit my bed and the disappointment flooded in. My mom came home later than I did and saw me in bed. She didn’t ask how I was doing; she only asked where the motorbike was.

I accepted an offer for a second job not long after, so I couldn’t pick her up anymore. I didn’t need the extra money, but I did need the time away from family, unfortunately.

Not A Fan Of Their Behavior

, , , , , | Right | May 9, 2022

We were seated in a restaurant on a hot, humid night in Bali with a large fan covering the few occupied tables. A group of tourists walked in, surveyed the seating and chose to sit on the other side of the restaurant. After a moment they realised the fan wasn’t reaching their table and the polite thing would be to move closer, but no.

One of them got up and moved the whole fan over to their side, directly pointed at them and leaving all the other patrons without airflow. 

After we had finished our meals I approached them and asked if they were from [Specific country].

Tourist: “Yes, did you recognise our accents?”

Me: “No, just noting how rude you were taking the fan for yourselves. Your country has a reputation for rudeness and you were so stereotypical.”

They tried to justify it because they were hot. Yeah mate, so were the rest of us.