The Right Side of the Bed…

…There is no such thing.

[BGmusic: nothing, my brother stole the speakers. I'd steal them back, if only he wasn't recovering from dengue. Poor kid.]

Quote for the day:

“Eat a live toad the first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day.”

– Source Unknown

I think I may have said this a million times before, but I cannot overemphasize this point: I am not a morning person. I am not the kind of girl who embraces the new day, greeting everyone with a smile and a singsongy “good morning!” [occasionally I do act like this, greeting even inanimate objects (no joke - ask my friends), but those days are rare nowadays]. I am the girl you don’t want to run into until an hour after she wakes up. I am the girl you should never, ever wake up… unless you’re an extremely good-looking specimen of the male human, or if you’re my dog, or if you bring good tidings [i.e. chocolate, promises of a good breakfast, news of cancelled classes, atbp.].

This morning, I woke up at around 8:30, and went straight to the computer to go online, because I’m a freak and that kind of behavior’s part of my nature already. When my mom reminded me to eat my breakfast, I shot her the worst scowl my face muscles could muster, but being my mother who has put up with me for nineteen years, she ignored it or chose not to see it.

Then she reminded me that I had practice with the girls upstairs at 9. More scowling from my end. See, my building is having a Christmas party this Monday, and my parents had volunteered me into presenting a musical number on my violin, because that is what parents do to their musically-gifted [or not] children. Exploitation is what I call it. Actually, my dad did ask my permission, but it wasn’t like I had much of a say in it…

Sometime last October… [morning]

My Dad: Choms [a variation of yet another silly nickname my parents formulated for me]… Tito X [obviously not his real name] is asking if you want to play the violin sa Christmas Party with his daughters.
DQ: [not looking up from computer screen] Nothankyou.
My Dad: Sige na, sayang yung violin mo. You’ve been given your talent for a reason. And the girls are really looking forward to…
DQ: [overdramatic exasperated sigh] Okay. Fine. I’lldoit.
My Dad: Yeheeeey. [Or something to that effect.]

So, I’ve been practicing with the sisters [one of them's around 10/11 (plays the flute), the other's around 6-8 (plays the violin)] twice a week since the first week of November. Except when I forget all about it.

So anyway, back to this morning. I was happily eating my bowl of sugar [Koko Krunch is looove], when someone started knocking at the door. It was a quiet, hesitant kind of knocking, and I could barely hear it over the radio. I knew who it was. I knew it was one of the girls from upstairs. I knew I should have gone to the door and told her that I would go up just as soon as I finished my breakfast.

But no, I didn’t do that.

Instead, I…

1. Went to my room.
2. Closed the door so I wouldn’t hear the knocking.
3. Sat on the bedroom floor.
4. Finished my cereal.
5. Hoped that she would go away.

She didn’t.

Yes, I know. I am a horrible person.

When I finished my breakfast, she was still knocking. Quietly. I opened the door, and she just gave me a huge grin, as if she hadn’t been standing there for almost 15 minutes. If that was me… I dunno. I certainly wouldn’t have smiled like that at somebody who made me wait that long. I nearly kicked myself right there.

I am a horrible person.

These girls, the ones that live upstairs – they are probably two of the nicest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Probably because they’re homeschooled, so they haven’t been corrupted by the outside world. [But I know that's not it; I know a lot of homeschooled brats.] And after we practice, they repay me with fruits and vegetables [yes, vegetables]. The last thing they gave me was an apple. Not much, but whenever I receive the love-gifts, I’m all, “awwwwww…”

I don’t know why I dread our practices so much, when I get so much out of it. It’s just refreshing to be around the two girls. They’re so cute [!], and they speak with these unbelievably squeaky voices [that I found annoying at first, but it kind of grows on you]. Plus, when they talk to me, it’s like they’re talking to someone their own age, so I leave our practices feeling 10 again. Like, I recommend books for them to read, and they tell me to read their favorites as well [I probably will, because I love children's lit anyway], we talk about school and how much fun they have and how much fun I’m not having, movies, music, games, the internet, etc. I like [most] kids, and I like to think kids like me.

But even though I love our time together, I am not a morning person. I am a horrible person in the morning. Thank goodness mornings don’t last forever.

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New look, just for the holiday season! I’m not too happy with the header [not polished enough for me, but whatever].