que pasa

The hotel has engaged this piano player to perform in the main hall from 6 to 7pm everyday. It is nice to be greeted by his music when I come down from my room - just in case you are wondering, I moved out of the luxury suite on 1 August - and go out for dinner.

One day we stopped to listen to him because my boss requested a particular song. As I watched the piano player’s fingers flow over the keys while he observed the hotel guests around him, I wondered if I might ever have reached that level of familiarity with music and the piano had I finished my lessons.

My mother signed me up for piano classes when I was in elementary school. She wanted me to have the privilege of having what she lacked as a child. But I came to realize that I did not enjoy playing the piano and lessons became such a chore. I would rather do theory homework instead of practicing, despite the fact that theory could be quite tiresome at times. At classes I would ask the teacher to go through theory work and feign interest in the details so that we would spend less time on practical. In sixth grade, I finally got my mom to stop the classes - it probably broke her heart. Today, our piano still sits in the house but only visitors play it. I enjoy listening to the music much more than playing the instrument itself. I think my mom still wishes that I had continued because piano music is really quite nice.

Mom used to be a reporter for the newspaper and so was in charge of my proficiency in languages. Dad was in charge of Math and Science. I am not one of those girls who are better at languages than at math and science. Which is not to say that my math and sciences were great or I thought them to be easy, but they seemed logical and if you worked at it, you would get it some how. Languages, on the other hand, seem to be more of an art and I did not have the gift. I mean, I could get by, but the good grades just did not seem to come even after hard work. Particularly frustrating when I was constantly surrounded by writing talents. Language proficiency is definitely not a genetic trait. Anyway, there was pressure for me to improve my languages and Mom and I both had a hard time. She wanted me to write well because it would really help in the future.

Mom also wanted me to have a pretty smile - another thing that would come in handy. I had dracula fangs so I wore braces for almost three years. Most people only wear them for two, this just goes to show how bad my teeth were. The braces hurt at times, especially after the orthodontist tightened the screws. What a price women pay for vanity. Mom joked that I should become an orthodontist. Good money, huge market, job stability, and I would not have to look down people’s mouths for as long as a dentist would. Being a doctor of any kind is of those occupations every parent hopes their children would take up, so I imagine that my mom's voice might have carried a tinge of hope there.

So I chose my path of study, spent three and a half years at my first job and then left it. No where near being a doctor or a stable low risk job. Not the stay-at-home sort either. Mom found it difficult to accept my decision and she probably worries a lot about me being away so much. Pig virus and all that. I will always be a little girl in her eyes and she is learning to let me be. I may not be turning out the way she hoped but I do not think I am doing that poorly either. I think she knows now that it does not matter so much how close I come to being the daughter she wanted me to be. I think all my mom wants me to be is to be happy.