Example: this morning I was described as bawdy, aka: someone who is humorously indecent. Aside from the fact that I can't disagree with this character assessment at all, in my defense it would serve my audience to know a thing or two about my mother.
I'd love to be able to say she's a cheap, no good, down-and-dirty, tawdry hussy; and that's how I turned out to be the fast and loose kind of drunk that pens a bawdy blog… but I can't. The fact is, that couldn't be further from the truth. But she has made a few missteps along the way, for which I will pin everything on.
Point in case: this is the woman who lost me when I was two years-old… at a race track. Never mind my grandfather's horse was racing at Santa Anita that day and there's a perfectly good explanation for why I wandered off, SHE lost me. I mean, who brings their toddler to a straight up gambling establishment in the first place, am I right!? When they found me 45 minutes later, I was sitting on a bench in a wine shed next to a bum, which should have been a pretty good indicator of what I would later become.
This is also the same woman who, for my 5th grade birthday party, took me and my friends to see Pretty Woman: the Cinderella story of a prostitute who finds true love with her John. Seriously, the official tagline for this film is: Who knew it was so much fun to be a hooker?
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
|And they lived happily ever after...|