What would
you do without your mom? I sure as heck don’t know! I got a little taste of it
last night. My parents had gone to the Robbie Williams concert, which left me
home with three younger siblings. When I came home I had to jump over toys,
pass the empty pizza trays, just to find pop corns scattered all over the
floor. I don’t know how those women (or men for that instance – all credit to
gay couples as well) manage that mother job – joggling a full time job,
cleaning, diapers and hopefully also a social life!
I sure was
relieved and did truly appreciate it when my mom returned home this afternoon,
which really is suitable since it is Mother’s Day. And it’s of course not all
because of her over humanly skills at keeping a house clean (even though I hold
that in high regard too). It’s because I she’s the most loving person I know.
Someone I can always trust.
And isn’t
that really what motherhood is about? It’s not blood. It’s love and care. On
this day we should celebrate all mothers. Any woman can make a baby, but it
takes so much more to raise a child. Again, it could be the gay couple or someone
who has adopted a kid. They say that blood runs thicker than water. Well, the
bond you tie with your kid is unbreakable. It’s strong as bone, but it really
has nothing to do with being of the same blood and flesh.
I’m sending
all my best thoughts to my American moms that each “adopted” me for a period of
time. It wasn’t always easy, but they all taught me a little something about
life and broadened my horizon. I’m so glad to say that I maintained a good
relationship to my first host mom, S, even though it wasn’t meant to be, and I
can’t wait to come visit Laura this summer (It’s less than two months away now –
not like I’m counting or anything ;-) ). A Happy Mother’s day to both of them!
On a
totally other note, that on the other hand does have a lot to do with flesh,
and a little to do with gay. Every year, all of Europeans gather for one big
celebration of the year. It’s not Christmas, no it’s a celebration of diversity
and a really bad taste in music. I’m of course talking about the Eurovision
Song Contest, that took place last night; one long parade of glitter, a party
for the homosexual society and a time for all Europeans to gather around the TV
screens. I didn’t actually watch much of
it, but really I didn’t have to. Before the show even started, I predicted that
Austria would win. I mean, what is more Eurovision like than a Drag Queen with
a beard? And how can you not love the name (that’s where the flesh, or really
meat comes in) , Conchita Wurst?
She has
already started a trend of course. There is now a hashtag called
#ConchitaWursted, that is used when a beard is drawn on a picture of a woman. In
two weeks we’re having the election for the European Parliament, and one of the
first “victims” was my own favorite candidate. I was actually out hanging
posters of her yesterday before the grand finale in the song competition. Some
of her posters have gotten a more, let’s say hairy look in the meantime. Some
will call it vandalism, but I guess Eurovision showed what the Europeans vote
for; women with beard, and as long as they put their cross beside her name, I
don’t care for beard or not.
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| Before: Samira Nawa Amini |
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| After: Samira Nawa Sausage - you have been #ConchitaWursted |
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