Today (or, technically, yesterday) was a fun, fun day. I cut class to watch the induction activity of my unofficial org, SoComSci. I was supposed to be at the acquaintance party too, but my parents were out the whole day and someone had to be home to make sure my little sister was okay (and by "little", I mean my third year high school sister).
Since I'm only half as responsible as my parents expect me to be, I did stay out later than I should have. I was in Starbucks Torre Lorenzo with Julie Ann and Mengz. It felt kind of weird, since I am now not able to relate as much to their programming woes, but I guess I'd rather have this added peace of mind. Anyway, what started as a coffee break turned out into a videoke night, and I had a blast with them--that is, until I received a message from my mom about, err, our dinner arrangements. Haha. In short, she was telling me what to cook/buy.
I rushed home, praying desperately for them not to beat me to it, as I'd be dead if they did. I had already invented a whole spiel about the LRT breaking down and such, but my fears turned out to be unnecessary. I arrived home at 8:30, and they turned up at 11:30, with me all worried about what was taking them so long.
They say it's hard to raise parents, and well I guess I'm finding out how true that is. My parents are out a lot (they're members of a religious, socio-civic organization), and they often come in at 12 or 1 a.m. It's actually better, since we get less nagging that way (darn the day my mom discovered text messaging, though), and I'm glad because my mom is loosening up and getting better at hanging out with people, since I inherited the introverted gene from her. Sometimes though, I can't help but worry about them when they're not home past the expected time. I guess I know exactly how my mom feels. Now I give out my fair share of "where are you?" and "what time will you be home?" messages. It goes both ways nowadays.
I guess I am growing up. My commuting curfew has been pushed back from 6p.m. (high school days), to 8p.m. (4th year high school days), to 10p.m. now. Our city of residence applies the 10p.m. curfew only for minors, but in my household, you're only considered old enough when you have a house and kids of your own (or maybe when I'm the one paying the rent). 10p.m. might be kind of early, but that's fine for me. I don't have much of a nightlife anyway--quite the poor little geek. Haha.
It is better this way, not being wrapped around my mom's protective blanket all the time. This is coming from a kid who grew up being warned about playing on staircases and breaking my neck, or crossing the street and getting run over, or even playing habulan and tripping on my own feet (which I did manage to do when I was the lampa kid, a decade ago). I'm glad my mom's loosening up. Now all I have to worry about is her noticing that cigarette smell on my shirt.
Have a good day, folks.
Picture grabbed from graphicshunt.com
Since I'm only half as responsible as my parents expect me to be, I did stay out later than I should have. I was in Starbucks Torre Lorenzo with Julie Ann and Mengz. It felt kind of weird, since I am now not able to relate as much to their programming woes, but I guess I'd rather have this added peace of mind. Anyway, what started as a coffee break turned out into a videoke night, and I had a blast with them--that is, until I received a message from my mom about, err, our dinner arrangements. Haha. In short, she was telling me what to cook/buy.
I rushed home, praying desperately for them not to beat me to it, as I'd be dead if they did. I had already invented a whole spiel about the LRT breaking down and such, but my fears turned out to be unnecessary. I arrived home at 8:30, and they turned up at 11:30, with me all worried about what was taking them so long.
They say it's hard to raise parents, and well I guess I'm finding out how true that is. My parents are out a lot (they're members of a religious, socio-civic organization), and they often come in at 12 or 1 a.m. It's actually better, since we get less nagging that way (darn the day my mom discovered text messaging, though), and I'm glad because my mom is loosening up and getting better at hanging out with people, since I inherited the introverted gene from her. Sometimes though, I can't help but worry about them when they're not home past the expected time. I guess I know exactly how my mom feels. Now I give out my fair share of "where are you?" and "what time will you be home?" messages. It goes both ways nowadays.
I guess I am growing up. My commuting curfew has been pushed back from 6p.m. (high school days), to 8p.m. (4th year high school days), to 10p.m. now. Our city of residence applies the 10p.m. curfew only for minors, but in my household, you're only considered old enough when you have a house and kids of your own (or maybe when I'm the one paying the rent). 10p.m. might be kind of early, but that's fine for me. I don't have much of a nightlife anyway--quite the poor little geek. Haha.
It is better this way, not being wrapped around my mom's protective blanket all the time. This is coming from a kid who grew up being warned about playing on staircases and breaking my neck, or crossing the street and getting run over, or even playing habulan and tripping on my own feet (which I did manage to do when I was the lampa kid, a decade ago). I'm glad my mom's loosening up. Now all I have to worry about is her noticing that cigarette smell on my shirt.
Have a good day, folks.
Picture grabbed from graphicshunt.com
No comments:
Post a Comment