Pastaza

Coffee done. Beautiful. It's still dark but probably so many people are up and about already. And probably for them it's routine. How I'd hate to have to wake up at this devilish hour to earn a living. And yet on the very rare occasions that I've been out, I've seen girls, sometimes little older than 16, all made up waiting at their pick up place to go and earn a living which is probably not a grand living either. So if they are waiting at half six and have had time to put all that war paint on, then their wake up call must be something like 5 am. Brrrr it's enough to make anybody shudder. And when they're probably off to work facing the same machine day in day out, hour in hour out, minute in minute out, why do they need all that paint? For the machine to see them pretty? Sometimes I just don't understand. I now remember that I actually have been up and about at this hour more often, during my Paceville clubbing days, the days when I'd score marks in disappointing my mum. But somehow being up all night makes half six in the morning different. I don't know why it just does. I still score marks in the game called 'my-daughter-does-everything-wrong-and-is-a-big-pastaza'. I also realise that the more I wish not to think so often abut her, I end up writing about her instead. So I do everything wrong, I am used to it by now, other people are always better even if they aren't. A big pastaza, I'm not, but since a pastaza, by her standards, is someone who has five earrings, and someone who loves make up, and someone who is surrounded by gay men, and someone who loves the drama of fur and heels, and someone who loves the promising possibilities opened by cleavage (no pun intended) then yes I am a big pastaza. I have been since the age of 14 when I had my first boyfriend, because then, a peck on the cheek was being pastaza, holding hands like a nerd made me a big pastaza. The fact that my twin was still holy and virgin back then didn't help things, bang came the comparisons. Of course he wasn't kissing girls, not because he wasn't a pastaz, but for a lot more many reasons. And just because I could not, cannot and never will be able to go shopping with my mum, then that makes me a pastaza. Because the daughter of this one and that one take their mum with them. Sure, because their mum is their bank account. I can only think what hideous stuff she'd make me buy. Sorry mum, your daughter is a pastaza, and will never take you shopping, period. Which makes the list go on, just because I 'became' a woman at 11' (an 11 year old is never a woman but I'm talking in her terms) then I was a pastaza trying to grow up early, because my chest showed signs of womanhood, then that also made me a pastaza because girls do not wear bras at 10. But hello mum, nature made me very different to you, you are small, almost Chinese-like, I didn't branch out according to your side of the family, all small, slender, 40kg-ish tiny people. Because hello mum you lie on the bed you make, and since you lay down with my dad, well although it's difficult to believe now, you married him when he tipped the scales at a 130kg. And yes I know mum, I am big, but that does not make me a pastaza either. I am three times your weight and I could snap you in half but never will. Because after all is said and done, I love you mum, and if you brought a pastaza into the world, well, perhaps it's some sort of repressed, inherited gene don't you think?