For The Lorelai To My Rory

A woman who, out of all the choices in the world, chose "Vanilla Fudge" as her nickname. The woman who has an unhealthy obsession with Jensen Ackles. A woman who hates wearing dresses as she sits with her legs open. The woman who once slipped at a wedding in the least graceful way you possibly could (that of which I later admitted to being at fault of. Damn you, spilled Pepsi.). A woman who can't wink. The woman who, after two rum and cokes, wants to go to the park. After 3? Wants to go ghost hunting. A woman with the strangest of crushes (Charles Logan from 24.. I mean, reeeeaally?). A woman who once took a photo with a boat captain, only to later find out that it wasn't the boat captain. The woman who is ordained and wants to  wear a black veil to my wedding, all the while dancing to something unexpected. The woman who currently has a broken toe and is likely still at the scene of the first questioning in Gone Girl... My mother. 

It's Mother's Day and I figured, what better day to write up something about the wacky but wonderful relationship she and I share? This is half a gift to her, and half a gift to me to repeatedly look back on and bask in the happy memories. Enjoy the ride, it's been a crazy one.

We haven't the most conventional of relationships nor do we have the smooth sailing of many. We bicker, stamp on each others toes (too soon, mother?), put our noses where they shouldn't go, refuse to talk about the things that matter, and hurt each other more than we ought to. But during times like those, it suddenly dawns on me that we are actually related after all. Family is meant to drive you up the wall, right? Maybe that's our problem. We've never been overly good at seeing that, she and I. We're too similar in our own ways and that is a good ol' chunk of the problem. Before I was ten-years-old, we classed each other as best friends. We did everything as one and people still find themselves asking urgently if the other is okay if we're seen apart. We relied on each other for sanity and companionship, finding other company unnecessary in our little bubble. Okay, that's a lie. We also included Jess (the dog) in our bubble, so theoretically it was the three of us. It was, in all likeliness, unhealthy. But the healthiest  we could've possibly been at that time given what the world had handed us. It's almost as though, faced with the gruesome reality, we made our own little safe haven at home. 

We'd spend entire weekends watching shows such as Angel, Buffy, Charmed, W&G or SatC hidden under duvets on our makeshift couch-beds. We'd eat frozen lasagna at 2am, doing crossword puzzles on the kitchen table. We'd play our own versions of games until Jess got bored and sabotaged whatever we were doing. We'd eat enough junk food to make someone get a sympathy stomachache and then go in for an extra piece. Yeah, okay, we were acting like students who were allowed to move out for the first time and went a bit OTT. But alas, that was my childhood. At least a good portion of it. We treated each other as friends, we were friends. But alas, like everyone, we grew up. Times got harder as I aged and people pushed their way into our lives without asking. Our little nook in the world was taken out from under us and for many years, we lost what was good. It felt as though we were strangers and I hated it. So much. Thankfully, as time once again moved forward, we seemed to being back what we loved about our relationship. There's a thin line between family and friends, and I think we're constantly balancing on it. Do we have a great balance? Some days, yes, some days, no. But that's okay. We manage as best we can and often have days that feel as though they could belong in our happiness filled past. We're learning to deal with the changes and that's a good thing, I think. You can't live in the past forever.

But alas, for a bit more of this post, we can. We never had the most money and that was perfectly okay, we dealt with it in a stride and never went without something that truly mattered. On frosty mornings, due to lack of gas, we'd throw our day clothes into a tumble-dryer and quickly change into them the moment the fabric felt like a hot water bottle. We'd blast each other with the hot heat from a hairdryer as we got changed, causing our hair go wild and laughter to fill the kitchen at 8:30am in the morning. 

We'd daydream about travelling the moment I turned 18, and all the embarrassing things we'd do along the way. Speaking of which, we're taking our first trip together this year to the ghostly Edinburgh and I can't wait to document it all for you, again. Less pain and a clearer mind makes for better blog posts! Who knew?

We'd hold onto traditions for dear life and break if something ruins them. I've 100% got an issue with this that far surpasses your usual "We do this every year", but alas, I blame my mother for that one. We're ladies of structure and have had routines since I can remember. Watching Charmed as we ate Cheese and Pickle sandwiches on Saturdays - that one was when I was six or seven. Saturday movie nights once I was no longer staying overnight in my Nain's. Christmas shopping in a certain place, every year. Angel Season 4 when my mum was cooking in the kitchen. Charmed on Tuesdays, after school, with chocolate cake and cheesecake. Everything that I looked forward to, was a tradition. It's the same now. Back then though, they were easier to uphold and we both counted down the days until our next one.

We'd spend weeks planning day trips and (cheekily) I'd stay home from school so we could experience the wonders of ancient Castles and various Zoo's without the hustle and bustle of people. We'd take homemade sandwiches (due to my mum's once traumatic experience of having strawberry put on her salad in a cafe. The travesty!), disposable cameras, and magazines for the bus ride - that of which we'd instantly regret once realising that we'd have to carry them with us all day, due to my magazine hoardingness (that's totally a word). We'd laugh until our stomachs hurt and come home with exhaustion in tow. 

Our Birthday's (mine, her's, Jess's and my Doll's) would last days, and we'd still have left over snacks the following month. 

Together we seem to have a knack for finding the most bizarrely brilliant movies such as Treehouse, Hack and The Christmas Star.  All of which are great, just FYI. Ignore the disapproving looks certain people are giving us right now. Just wait for the "DARRRRYYYYLLLL!" scene in Treehouse and you'll instantly agree with us that it's a masterpiece. 

We're known that have conversations that go like this:

Her: "Like the Shane thing!"

Me: "Yes, or Gilmore Girls!" 

Her: "Huh?"

Me: "Weatherspoons. Tables and bolts."

Her: "What does that have to do with Shane?"

Me: "Seriousness! Like Prison Break."

Her: "Oooh. But what does that have to do with Gilmore girls?"

Me: "I never said that."

Her: "Yeah, you did."

Me: "No, I didn't. Did I?"

Her: "Yes."

Me: "Huh."

Her: "But what does all of this have to do with Shane?"

Me: "Who's Shane?"

Real conversation. True story.

We've watched Supernatural at least 10 times over, and flat down refuse to watch an episode without the other. We re-watch the episode "Yellow Fever" whenever one of us feels down and have yet to find the scene of Dean yelling because of a cat funny. We found ourselves in the characters and quote the show to each other more often than not. You just hold out for the Halloween when we can finally go as Sam and Dean. Yes, I'm Sam. After all, we almost have the same hair length. 

I could go on, but some memories are best kept for your own enjoyment. And sanity. She raised me into who I am today, and a good portion of my person is her. We'd be lost without each other and due to travel and life changes, we're beginning to learn that the hard way. But I haven't a doubt in my mind that we will find ourselves new traditions that we will be overly protective of. 

For the 

Lorelai to my Rory

Dean to my Sam

Grace to my Will

and 

Melissa McCarthy to my Sandra Bullock.

We did really good. You did really good. Here's to new stories, new traditions, and more Supernatural rewatches. Maybe the world won't implode if we spend a few weeks apart. Who knew, aye?

I love you.

- Your Daughter