Memoirs of an Amnesiac

I was at the back part of our house, seriously doing my laundry when a little boy from outside our gate was singing, "Starfish are meant to fly..." My automatic lyrics-recognition-sans-grammar-Nazi self went on haywire mode when I heard this. My brain was like, "Isn't that supposed to be: 'Starships are meant to fly?'"

Oh well, it was kinda cute. But I'm not about to talk about grammar here. This incident was actually the same thing that popped to my brain when I bumped (literally) an old classmate today while I was trying to maneuver my way (with a tray in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other) to a seat in a fast food chain. She immediately recognized me and I (like always) had to squint (because of my aversion to eyeglasses) and finally recognized her. She and I were busy asking each other how life had been since elementary days. Such musings barge in uninvitedly to my rather eccentric brain. There is no point of connection actually to my point now (the heck!). It just reminded me about starships which are somehow like rockets (right? insert comment here:___).

My relatives, you see, likened me to a rocket ship that failed to launch. Some relatives they are, right? Of all things to use as an allegory, why rockets? Anyway, they always compared my being still under my mother's roof as something negative. Well, I do admit it has its debilitating (a mouthful to pronounce, right?) effects sometimes and some pretty great advantages. But that old classmate and I had the same dilemma. I find it so comforting that someone actually feels the same thing as I do.

Yes, it's nice to be under our parent's roof because you get to be spared from monthly rent if you decide to stay in a flat. Then, you get to have food served (not that I don't cook in the house) but you also have to chip in with the family budget. Oh, that thing. You don't have to worry about budgeting because Mother does it for you.

The drawbacks could be that all decisions must be coursed through Mother and she has (take note) the final say. You can't rearrange the furniture without her knowing about it (as opposed to you being free to do it when you have your own place). And you must rearrange it (even when you are against it), for a NEW LOOK, like your room isn't really doing it right the Feng Sui way. You can cook but that it has to be that she must do the tasting (as if you don't know whether too much salt is no longer palatable). You must go home at a specified time because according to Mother, it's a dangerous world out there. Or worse, your going out makes her think you are joining a fraternity. This is so true that this became like some sort of a joke among my friends here. They even named me 'FOUNDER' for Pete's sake! I know my mother is still stuck somewhere in time or she just treats me like her little girl.

My old classmate and I were unanimous that enough is enough. We must never be treated this way. (Ok, I went histrionic here.) Anyway, at our age where we are supposed to be treated like real mature individuals, some parents can't help doting over. In the Philippines where people question why your son or daughter breaks free and transfers house, the parent is shunned upon, like they have played truant to Parenting classes and have missed out on rearing their children well. And the son or daughter who wanted to transfer house, doesn't want to break his or her parents' heart.

I seriously want to transfer house. Not that I want to prove something to my mother but it has something to do with me trying to prove something to myself. I figured I'll have more time to miss her when I do. I want to make my own decisions without her having to meddle with them. I want to experience how it is to really commit mistakes and the heck love its consequences and not be in constant fear about trudging on mother's well meaning intentions. Besides, later on in life, I'd have more time to really be on my own, thus, the training should start early.

Yeah, I need to fire up my rocket ship. I need to seriously launch soon.