Here's to teaching!

Ever since I was old enough to know what my mother's, and my grandmother's, and all my titas' profession was -- they're all teachers, by the way -- I've always had the image of myself being a one as well.

When I was old enough to speak, my parents had taught me to say "I wanna be a doctor" when people would ask what I want to be when I grow up and I would do as they say without even meaning it because even then, the medical profession has never struck me as something that would be my thing. Although I've been told that being a doctor pays good (really good...and you know how I get when it comes to matters of money), I still feel somehow repulsed from it.

I wanna do what lola does. I wanna teach. I wanna be a teacher. But when I told my parent s (including the rest of the family) this, I received disapproving remarks. It was as if I disappointed them. They don't want me to be a teacher (and this is coming from the people related to me who are by the way TEACHERS themselves). They resented that idea of me being them. How can you say that? Don't you guys love your job?? And they told me it's only exciting during the first time but gets pretty boring after a while. How could you possibly get bored with teaching??

But I never really stressed myself into worrying what profession I'd affiliate myself with back then. In fact, it wasn't until I was about to graduate in high school and had to fill out the forms for entrance examinations when I started to contemplate as to what I plan to do with my life. And since I had no idea what BS, BSE, and AB mean, you can only imagine how hard it was to acquaint myself with the tertiary-level jargons and finally stick to a decision.

They either want me to pick BS Nursing (as is the fad nowadays) or something else that's at least computer-related. But what about teaching??! A life of syringes, of smelling like hospital, and of seeing people suffer doesn't sound too inviting for me. Nevertheless, I've always been amused by Biology (I was Best in Biology back in high school). And they say that you can proceed to taking up Medicine when you have Biology units (I'm not really sure).

So I told my folks I'm gonna take up BS Biology as my first choice. My parents didn't know that I wrote down BSE instead of BS for want of being able to teach. My second choice was BS ComSci. I had no idea what the course was about. I've always thought of computers as things that only come in handy when you want something that'll help you complain and watch porn over the internet (and I've used it well enough for those reasons). The third choice was AB Political Science. I told myself that if I wasn't gonna teach, then I might as well be a lawyer. Problem is, I didn't know that bar exams could be so excruciatingly dreadful (plus there's my observation that most lawyers become bald...and I don't wanna lose my rich thicket of black and pepper hair).

When they found out I took BSE Biology instead of BS, they went ballistic. But after a while, their dissing turned dormant. But I felt that being in the College of Education never really exposed me to the things that I really want. I felt that they're not giving me enough learning and experiences. And the bulk of Scientific Papers that I have to make for my major subjects made me regret my choice of course! It's like high school Research all over again...only more curse-inspiring (but I still love Biology... I had straight 1's in my Biology subjects)! During those times of loathing and taray-tarayan to the mataray laboratory/stock room attendants whose cranky attitudes would discourage me from borrowing the laboratory equipments that I need for an experiment, I found peace of mind in my minor subjects (specifically English). It wasn't long before my love for English outgrew my love for Biology (I was also Best in English back in high school).

And so after enduring a year of facing stock-room-attendants-from-hell and after making what seemed like hundreds of Scientific Papers (including those which were never accepted and thrown into the bin), I decided to surrender myself to the not-so-distant calls of AB English whose arms have been patiently waiting for my embrace... And so here I am in my 4th year of the degree program, feeling contented and happy with the company of Shakespeare, Flaubert, Rich, Tolstoy, Kundera, Derrida (well, maybe except with this guy), Saussure, Krashner, Donne, Frost, Dickinson, Tan, Min-Min, Godinez-Ortega, and the like.

I am currently in my practice teaching mode and I am loving every single aspect of it (well, except for the checking of papers). And it feels good to see your students' faces light up everytime you breakdown something complicated into something that's easier for them to understand (such is the feeling I get when I teach Literature -- I'm not good in teaching grammar. Grammar hates me! X_x). And nothing could ever top seeing the excitement that your students feel when you give them an interactive activity manifest inside the classroom walls. Hearing them say, "Sir" inside and as well as outside the campus tickles my ears and make me feel all warm on the inside (this is so gay). What's more, I love seeing them smile when I try to relieve the class of tension from the Language Focus. And seeing them nod their heads as a sign that they understand your explanation can be very addictive.

I love my course. And I know I'm gonna love my future job even more. =)

CH side by side, I'm finally back inside!..

At long last I've finally managed to get rid of the indolence that has been stopping me from going to church! For over months of convincing God (through my extremely short bedtime prayers) that I needn't attend the Sunday mass since what's important the fact that I have faith in Him; and after months of telling Him that the place of worship is not of severe importance as long as I get to worship Him in my own little ways (the lazy excuse I've been using since after my last attendance at church which was last New Year's Eve), I finally ran out of reasons to procrastinate hearing the priest's sermon.

And so there I was with my pious friend Ruby and the ever-dependent Syrah at the Redemptorist Church near our school on the 21st of Septmeber. It was my second time to attend mass here (the first one was last 2007 Palm Sunday and I barely even listened to what the clergyman was saying since I was too busy cracking jokes with Myca -- one of the funniest people I know). It felt weird and the ceremonies for the mass all seemed so distant to me (maybe it's because of the fact that English is used in this church and that I'm used to responding to the mass in the dialect).

Back when I was "younger and gullible enough to be brought along by my lola to church", I used to have this irrational fear of getting myself shot by my dad while I was attending the mass and was singing "Himaya sa Dios". I don't know why but the thought would just stick to me everytime I go to church. I used to always have this unexplainable feeling that something bad was gonna happen...and I was in a church, for crying out loud! At the very least, I should have felt safe! But being safe was far from what I felt back then.

There was also this one time when I was with my lola and we were attending the Wednesday night mass, an old man sat next to me and all of a sudden I started having these really really weird vibes from him. He was really creeping me out! I started to get really really scared of him (and I mean REALLY scared)... For some unexplained reason, I thought he was a vampire! A vampire attending mass at church, can you believe the things that used to go around in my head?! We didn't get to finish the mass because I cried buckets of genuine tears of fright and my lola, noticing how pale my face got with my forehead drenched in "quicksilver sweat", took me back home.

It just sounds eerie why I used to feel so less secure when I was at church back then. And the irony of it all is that the church is supposed to be the least place that us Christians should be worried about getting harmed. In fact, it's a place that's believed never to be visited by harm at all.

But now, I'd like to think that I've outgrown that idea. God and I have finally made amends. I feel more at home in His home now (wow, with this statement, it's almost as if I never considered selling my soul to the devil a few posts ago!).

Call me fat

Who would have thought trying to bulk up is harder than gaining weight (for me, that is)? I've always drooled over the idea of having "bilbil" and chubby cheeks. Mind you, my frail and skinny appearance is NOT a product of media and society's perception of beauty (like the lifeless skeletons with make-up overload we see on most fashion magazines). It's not.

I didn't always look this malnourished. Back when I was younger, when I would pinch myself, I used to feel the presence of meaty flesh underneath my moreno (a less hurting word for dark) skin. But now, no more. I never even attempt to pinch myself for fear of being reminded that I am all just bones and cartilages (I wince at the thought of anorexia nervosa).

At school, I would pity myself if people would tell me I look thin. I'd then find someone (a true friend) who would lie to me and say that I've actually gotten fat. I just need an ego-booster, a confirmation that I'm not gonna die of anorexia nervosa after all (the hypochondriac that I am).

Although my relatives (myself included) would classify me as a glutton, it surprisingly doesn't show on my weight. I eat a lot. I even finish off my mom and siblings' orders everytime we eat in restaurants and fast food chains. I tried deworming, but to no avail.

Now following Ami's (a pal who feels that the universe is in love with her) advice, I try to eat more (appropriate food) than what I am used to (can somebody say "extra extra rice?"). Of course I would initially feel like I'm about to vomit after seeing the sight of the food in my platter but when I start to think of staring at my chubby cheeks in front of the mirror when I would finally gain pounds, I courageously would chew and swallow my way through the bounty and feel my stomach swell -- creates the illusion that I'm already feeling the results.

So I vow that will NO LONGER skip meals. And I will eat more rice, more bread, more egg white, drink more milk, etc. I also vow to have two snack sessions per day and I solemnly swear to start befriending my long-snobbed enemy: the veggies -- so that I may finally succeed in devouring them, the nasty creatures that they are. X_x

Gone too far astray

I've been seriously considering to sell my soul to the devil these past couple of days. They say that the devil can give you anything you want....in exchange for your soul. Once you made an agreement with him, your soul (once you die) will burn in Hell for all eternity.

That doesn't sound good...but I ran out of other options (actually, this isn't entirely true, I still have other options, one of which is coming clean and hurt someone in the process...a chance I'm not willing to take). At this point, it would be better if I take full responsibility of the pains. A martyr sinner, that's what I'd like to call myself now.

I first discussed this matter with my primary friends over a pretentious meal at Big Ben and Devie, gave a surprisingly moving remark: "Why not sell your soul to God, instead?" (this came out as a joke, but still, somehow she has a point...if I could only put my finger on it). For a moment, I was in a trance and relived the whole story of The Prodigal Son inside my head. And then I thought of myself; the things that I've done over the past 19 years; the kind of person that I've become (i.e. my genuinely honest self-proclamation of my infamous societal roles)... and my thought of that alone was like an awfully sonorous ring of a colossal bell that tolled me back to reality from that meditative state (Ode to a Nightingale, John Keats).

God doesn't want my soul. It's far too filthy for Him to embrace. He wont risk causing friction with it on His pearly white robe if He hugs me when I dare try to pull-off an ala-"prodigal son" finale.

....So how do I make a deal with the devil??

Satan's Son: "Mom called in sick today"

My mother and I aren’t exactly what you would say close to each other. Sometimes the rationale behind my love for her becomes confusing as to whether “I love her because I choose to”, or that “I love her because I have to (with her being my mom and all)”.

I’d like to think that she and I have a “love-hate” relationship. And the one factor that determines which mood our relationship is in is “money” (yes, we are such materialistic people…I think I already said this before). Lately though, we have petty arguments over the most superficial things (aside from money, that is).

Never a day or two passes by without us exchanging bitter gestures. Somehow, on my part, she always finds a way to irritate me. I have cursed my mother many times than I have with other people that I hate. I can’t say I haven’t wished her ill because I have, many times (even to the point of wishing she was dead!) and I regret ever doing so…eventually.

I guess the reason why I get flared up by her is because I seem to see myself in her (not as a woman, of course…we all know how that discussion would end up... TILT!!!). She seems to exhibit my weaknesses – the things that I do not like about myself, the things that I am not proud of. Some people hate to see their weaknesses being displayed blatantly by others, and I am no exception to that. There are also others who unconsciously make the lives of those people whom they can see their weaker selves into miserable. I am no exception to that, either.

Yes, I am evil and I take no gratification from that. But I know that I love my mother. The reason behind that love is the one that I’m not so sure about. Yet again, I do not deny the fact that there are times when I hate her. Yes, I hate her but that doesn’t mean I do not feel the same way for my father (do you really wanna explore on that area?). Anyway…

I hate her for her habit of passing the blame on someone (not on something, it’s always on someone and that someone is usually yours truly). Just like when my father and her separated. They (my father was in on this one, as well) blamed me, specifically, for that. And that’s the one thing that I can never forgive them for.

I hate her eccentric yet irrational beliefs (ex.: on broken mirrors and stuff), her claim that she is always the one who’s “inaapi”, her addiction to suertres lotto and her paranoia over making things clean. She never finds satisfaction on the general definition of “clean”…when she says “clean”, it’s something that only she herself can achieve…that is one of the reasons why I never help with the house chores.

• Reason #1: I’m lazy.
• Reason #2: She is never, I repeat NEVER, satisfied with how other people clean things. This is also the reason why we’ve never had a stable maid.

I also hate her bossy attitude. I know that she has the right to be one since she’s a parent and everything but come on! Who in the world likes bossy people??? For some reason, when she’s busy and stressed, she also likes to see other people act that way. I hate it when she calls my name and order me to do things; “Leeeeeeeeep!!!” (supposed to be “Lip” from “Philip”) in a very high-pitched and very annoying manner (if only words were enough to describe how annoying it is).

Most of all, I hate her for being a hypochondriac (a state which I suspect is something that I got from her). She easily gets nervous. Like the time when I coughed out blood. I got scared (naturally) and when I told her, she panicked (which is acceptable) but she panicked to the point of being the one whom we should all be worried about (hello?! I’m the one who coughed out blood here!).

She’s a crazy woman. She’s weak. I hate her for being that way.

Right now she’s sick and she’s in the hospital. We had a fight earlier today (most evil son in the world) and I believe I should be blamed for that (sorry..huhu…if I were a female, I’d be called a bitch)…and I deserve the scratch marks (kulang pa gane..huhu).She’s not allowed to get sick. She’s not supposed to show she’s weak. She let me down because of that (however condescending that may sound). I don’t want to feel that she is in any way vulnerable. Only I am allowed to be that way. Because if she’s weak, then to whom shall I run to for protection?

Buwan ng Bata

Today is supposed to be Monette’s 20^th birthday. Majority of the people I know celebrate their birthday this month. This makes me feel desolate and alone. Cheka lang! Hehe.

With Monette starting to shake off her “-teen” days behind her, I start to fret over growing old. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who’ll never be an adult in the sense that I never see myself working, having responsibilities like most grown-ups I know, and being 20 in general.

The more I think about it, the more anxious I become (not a good thing)…which is why I will redirect this post to the Buwan ng Wika celebration at my siblings’ school. It’s been ages since I’ve seen a program for this event. It’s good to see cute kids messing up their dance steps (which teachers claim as modern-folk/ethnic dance….how can something be modern and folk at the same time??) on stage and crying and doing what most nonchalant kids of their age do…act cute and angelic and vulnerable and innocent. ^_^

There was particularly one 6^th grader who looked like he developed early (holy moley!!!). He was topless and sweaty and his tummy (without baby fat, by the way... mm-hmm) was gleaming with some yellow glitters…which I thought sorta functioned as aphrodisiacs (haha). He has full red lips and has eyes like my 16 yr-old neighbor named Akim who used to fix our computer (mmmm…Akim…I wonder if he’s still straight). Notwithstanding the excited rhythm that my heart is trying to keep up with as well as the erection that I was desperately trying to hold back (duh, kidding!), at the back of my mind, I keep exclaiming, “I never thought Buwan ng Wika could be this festive!” XP

Did we just cross the other line?

I was browsing over this year's "Am I Nuts?" queries (being a nutcase myself -- and yes, I am not ashamed of that...most of the time) and found myself reassured of not being the only one in the world who's a little "cuckoo" on the head (because sometimes I forget that and when I say "cuckoo", I don't mean "Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart cuckoo kinda way"; that's a different level).

We all need to display a bit of insanity at times in order to keep ourselves sane. Too much of being sane isn't healthy at all. And too much dosage of insanity, is anything but pleasant. That is why we have our little quirks sometimes to relieve ourselves from the monotony of life mishandled. Our quirks are even what help us see the line (and a very thin one at that) that divides sanity from insanity.

But then again, not all quirks are helpful. Just because we think they're cute and that they makes us laugh doesn't mean they're safe to have. Some, and I say some, may require psychological attention. And so I ask, "Are You Normal or Nuts?"

The Reader's Digest psychological panel weighs-in on that question. They want to find out your quirks by sending them your "quirky questions" and then they analyze them. This is good news for people who want to know which side of the line they actually stand on. Once again, "Are You Normal or Nuts?"

One person said in his query, which I can really relate to, that he is afraid of high places not because he might fall down but because he might not resist the idea of jumping (yes, for some people, the desire to jump is quite a temptation even if we know and we are afraid of dying if we do just that). An expert's perspective on that matter is given out in the Reader's Digest site as well as many other quirky behaviors.

Also try reading Reader's Digest Laughs to give yourselves a good old tickling. Because we have to understand that even if we act nuts, sometimes it's a good thing to share it to everyone and then laugh about it. And Reader's Digest knows that.

Celebrating with a poet (and lying earlier in my brethren's school)

It’s really supposed to be on the 26^th but I think Prof. Anthony L. Tan wants to spend his actual birthday alone so he celebrated with a few (yes, very few) people the day before that. Luckily, I was among those few people and my good friend Ami was there as well (quoting her, "the groupies that we are"..haha!).

We ate nangka, we talked, we laughed, and we watched Anna Karenina starring the beautiful Sophie Marceau. Ahhh, yes. We love being with our Sir Tony. I’d like to think of him as my literary father (and Prof. Christine Godinez-Ortega as my mom...yep, that's where I got my Friendster surname!). Haha!

Here are some "quirky" pics of us which I got from Ami's site.

If only he's this young right now... *imagining*

Wala lang... Being a pedophile... Haha! (out of context)

Earlier today, I was surprisingly possessed by the spirit of a responsible big brother and decided to be the one to get the report cards of my two younger siblings. I didn’t know there was gonna be a meeting so when I got there, I was surprised that I was immediately “coerced” into being an Auditor for the Grade 5 PTA.

I tried to decline. I tried lying and said that I was busy, that I had a full load of subjects this semester (in reality, I only have 3 units), I even said that I’m swamped with thesis work, but to no avail. I was so close into saying that I’m the KASAMA president just so I could get my name off the PTA Officers list. In the end, I still was Auditor (a position I’ve never tried before…not that I’m a functional officer back when I was such a glutton over extra-curricular activities).

When I finally had in my hands the report cards, I felt kind of proud to find out that my sister was Top 9 in her class (Grade III). But when I decided to check on my brother’s (Grade V), I felt the disappointment that a parent must feel when they see two-digit numbers marked in red in their children’s grades. My brother had three grades of 75! One for Math and another for Sibika (not much of a surprise since my family has never been in good terms with numbers and memory works). His third red mark was in Filipino. Whaaaat??! Can you believe that?! Maybe it’s because Filipino is the language that we speak less at home (apparently we try to speak more English and Japanese). Yet there’s also a comforting news for my brother. His highest grade is Writing. And he has one of the neatest penmanship in his class. He is also hailed as the “most behaved and most organized” pupil – remarks that I have never ever received in my life.

When a landangera talks about his primary friends...

After what seemed like a week-long suspension of classes brought about by the "stint" (yes, quite an understatement) coming from the MILF and the GRP regarding the MOA-signing controversy, it feels good (understatement #2) to find myself back in school again. Seeing other signs of life apart from those you see at home (I gotta tell you, staring at the faces of your family members panicking could also get pretty boring... Boredom really is an offshoot of consistency) is ecstatic and yes, also a relief!

Teachers never really showed up in class because they were still shaken up by the incident but that's completely understandable -- this is actually quite a plus on most of the students' side. But for me, a teacher's absence would mean not being able to be given instructions on taking over a class and that's sad (another understatement) since I've been missing teaching (yep, I'm now a practice teacher and NO, I do not molest my students... at least I haven't yet *considering, considering*) ever since the MILF decided to get themselves more noticeable again. I was a tad disappointed but was instantly reminded of my name (which is Hope, by the way) and what it stands for when I heard my friends greet me with glee as I struggle to make their faces out from the blurry silhouettes they appear to be in my eyes (I broke my glasses for the nth time).

When I reached a distance when I finally could put their faces to their familiar voices, we screamed like the little girls that we are (oh, give it a rest! It's my blog and I can affiliate myself to whatever gender I choose to)! Excitement filled the hallways of CASS Bldg. Long-suppressed laughs meant to be given out in the company of friends were heard coming out of our vocals. And this jovial loudness echoed on to Petron where we chilled out and decided to let ourselves enjoy the presence of the group (an unspoken agreement but is effectively communicated to every member even with such subtlety as the wind passing by one's ears).

There's a certain warmth that I feel in the company of these people whom I call my primary friends; a sense of youthful serenity amidst the boisterous laughters. No matter how we stab each other in the front with our foul words as is our rule of thumb nowadays (don't worry, we only do it for fun.. we know better than to take it personally), no matter how much pang-aapi I do to them (sinaaaveh!), no matter how high the notes of Aegis' songs are that veins start popping out of our necks everytime we attempt to perform them in our videoke sessions, no matter how competitive we all get in seducing Atit, no matter how landangera (that goes out to you Bing-Bing, Tin-Tin, Mai-Mai, and Sy-Sy) these people are, no matter how much of a drunkard one of them could get (yes, you Jesus), no matter how overly pious Ruby could be, and no matter how pulokpukin Monette could look (haha), nothing could ever top the sense of belongingness that I get from these (pobre) creatures. There isn't a laugh that goes unresounded when you're with them. There isn't a problem -- be it paperworks, or troubles with lying low (a term that is frequently used but never fully executed) -- not settled in a mere trip to Bing-Bing's crib (we know how to make our miseries more festive). When I'm with these people, life is always (or if not always, ultimately becomes) a party!

Row lang ang lahat! Awh soooreehh!! X_x

P.S.
Magpost unta ko pics pero guba pa man ang monitor so dili nako maklaro ang images. Next time na. ;)

The New Betting Game: Banzai

I'm always a fan of games. Just recently, I've been into online playing games and I've been doing some posting all about them in my previous blog entries. And just now, I have stumbled upon another great new way to summon fun...

Introducing Screenlife Games' Banzai -- the new Asian-inspired betting game on DVD that is also based on the hit TV show of the same name! Banzai initially allows you to watch some stunts in an acclaimed Super Banzai Video Show. Afterwards, players (usually two or even more) get to predict what the stunt's outcome will be and they each will bet on it using plastic sushi that will be provided for each player at the start of the game. In order to bet sushi, players need to make use of their plastic chopsticks (just when you thought this game couldn't possibly get more interesting!) in filling up the betting bowl. The player with the highest number of sushi bets at the end of the game gets to be declared as the winner!

I've already tried playing Banzai with my primary friends and we absolutely had a great time!

Visit the site now and you also get to download loads of fantabulous stuff such as wallpapers. And due to my addiction to the game, I even downloaded my very own desktop background. Here it is:
Banzai DVD Game is available for purchase and the character Tako even has his own MySpace page! Check it out and click here!

ScreenLife Games is at it again. They launched a new Banzai game. Check it out:

And now we wait...

As the disappointment I've felt in the last 24 hours regarding the news that classes are suspended for the whole week (which means I wont get to wear our new uniform and see my crush/es in school) gradually reduces itself to a faint touch, a feeling of dreadful (and I mean DREADFUL!) anxiety (and I guess you could also call it paranoia) has started to manifest in me.

After packing a few of the stuff that I'm gonna need just in case things go wrong (like my favorite pair of pants, comfy shorts, my favorite polo shirt, my one and only USB, a few of my meant-to-be-seen-by-people-underwears, and the like), I lock the doors to our home, close our windows shut, turn off the TV (after watching Dyosa -- I don't care if the visual effects of this series is poorly made as long as the beautiful Anne Curtis is in it), turn the lights off, and settle myself in my bedroom. I'm wide awake and straining my ears for any suspicious sound that should be responded with alarm.

I receive many text messages that fall in one single pressing theme of the moment. I read all of them and make replies. I put the phone aside and then try to close my eyes. Listening to the deafening silence. This silence is a hint that everyone in the vicinity is on guard and is silently listening as well. Silently listening to silence.

In my mind, I run over the things that I'm going to do in case it happens (and I pray to God it won't). I'll grab my bag and then... I struggle to think of what else I'll do. There's nothing more that I can do. We don't have a car. We don't know any neighbor who has one. I say to myself, "I'll figure it out."

And now clutching the malong that's wrapped around me while I lay in bed still and awake, I begin to worry. I strain my ears for whatever sound that could signal for trouble. This is going to be one long sleepless night. And now we wait...

Currently addicted to...

Dofus Make Friends, fight and explore a cartoon universe!

Play this free game now!!

When by thy scorn, O murderess, I am dead...

John Donne is one of my favorite poets. Below is his poem entitled The Apparition which I wrote on a manila paper (don't you just love my enmanship?? ahehe) and presented to my English 3 students (first year BS-IT students...yes, my crush is in this class as well..nyahaha). Behold! Harken!



P.S.
Gawd, what is it with me and short blog entries these days??! X_X

So help us God

While Mai-Mai was checking the English 1 (College English) workbooks of some first year students. A person who is not sleepy should not sleep. Need I say more? X.x

Feeling like a vegetable

I never did anything productive during the last 24 hours. I didn't get to teach a class and I also never got to see my 1st Yr BS-IT crush. Bummer. Bummer. Bummer.

A response to the "PITY-ING MISSY"

I was supposed to give out a reply to her message which contains "PITY" as the most recurring word in it. (Wait, I think I already posted one but I decided to delete it because I am such a good person.. Haha.. Aw...) The reason is because (I'd like to think that) I am a changed--(checks what's inside my pants...I still have it)--man (and also thanks to Ami's blog).

Here's her post that I read in the Friendster Bulletin (the ones which are in black and are enclosed in a parenthesis are my side-comments...hehe):

"PITY those who can't accept defeat," but we weren't defeated!! (rrright...self-preservation) So,can I say "PITY those who were cheated"? (this isn't exactly news. they always claim they're being cheated)

That wearing of black was a sign of excruciating grudge of the oh-so-dirrrrrteeeeeeeeee fight! (excruciating grudge? that right there is new. by the way, only those who are dirty can see dirt)

You were good though, but so sad, we are the best and no one can ever change that. (I could just slap her with the enormous palm of my hand 18 times. Dang! This woman is looking for a hard one! But I won't do it. I never hurt women. Or do I?)

As to oak tree, yeah! go give shelter.. (i wonder what her problem with oak trees is)

and to "Ms. What is Global warming?," your answer's quite ok.. only you didn't got the question 'cause you answered a different one. Didn't your teachers taught you what's the difference between "HOW" & "WHAT"? ...SHAME TO THAT!! (all of a sudden I wanna be her English tutor)

Hmnn.. with your debaters, go and find glory 'cause it will NEVER be yours. (uhmm, abaskerow nalang ta ani! hahaha...palaparo ka'g medal gang?)
You may be the "CHAMPS???" (what a question mark!!) (yeah, I agree! Look how many question marks you used there! dang!) but does that go the same way as the people see you??? (uhh...what?? rephrase! rephrase!)

C'mon!! Don't be too overwhelmed like "MR. NATIONALISM".. (who exactly is Mr. Nationalism, anyway??) haaayy.. (awww...exhausted much? English is hard, huh? tsk, tsk...don't worry, I'll tutor you!)

I never thought you were that "LOW BROWED"(ahhh, "low-browed". I doubt if she even knows what this word means). No offense though! Hahahahah!!!! uh oh, that's another shame.(uhmm..I wish I could get her joke.. tsk, tsk.. I just HAVE to have her as one of my tutees!!!)

Oh boy, that bottle!! ^_^ (abaskerow nalang again! I promised my bestfriend na kasi. Aw. Hehe. Love you, Bai!)

Good thing it didn't go to the right place (trash cans) (setting some specifications, i see..haha) because surely what you did made you appear worse than the WORST TRASH CAN. (what we did? you mean beating you? oopss...sorry! I wonder what that makes you ??---individual "you" ni ako pasabot ha? si Ms. Pity lang. Hmmm... How about the trash that's thrown in the trash can?)

Kudos to you (why, thank you!), in fairview (another attempt at making a joke). Make sure you'll do it clean next time (make sure you clean your grammar first! again, I'm free to tutor you!). LoLz!! hawhawhaw..(this must be some kind of primitive language that traces back to Atilla the Hun) ^_^ (trying to flare us up)

There. I just made an analysis of her work. Ain't I good?! Ahaha.. This will be the last time (I hope) that I'll be dissing on the Pol Sci-ABEO-CASS EC hate fest. It's getting pretty old (yet still a bit tempting, though)... And I also have to keep my promise. :D

Anyway, to the Pity-ing Missy, here's a friendly ABEAN tip:

"did/does/do" should be followed by the base form of the verb...

for example:

• Didn't your teachers ever teach you that? (correct)
• Didn't your teachers ever taught you that? (wrong)

• ...only you didn't got the question 'cause you answered a different one. (wrong)
• ...only you didn't get the question 'cause you answered a different one. (correct)

• Does giving you a fair fight necessarily equate to letting you win? (correct)
• Does giving you a fair fight necessarily equated to letting you win? (wrong)

Now you tell me who needs pitying. ^_^ (and just in case you didn't get the verbal irony, it's you dearest. You need some pitying while I need some parteeeeihhh-ing! Ali na, Bai! Party na ta! Aw...Hehehe!)

Viva ABEO!!!

It hurts to lose...we all know that for a fact. It's a good thing it wasn't us who went home hurting and with grudges (let alone decadence...you know who you guys are...hihihi)!

At long last the CASS Days celebration has wrapped itself up and has also given us the most kicking conclusion there is: ABEO (AB-English Organization) being the Over-All Champion!!!

• Over-All Champion for Literary Events (we were CHAMPION in the Quiz Show - thanks to Kimoy, the goddess of facts and hunches...I was a part of the team, too, by the way...woohoo!!)
  
• Over-All Champion for Cultural Events (our Wanna Be and Acoustic performances really brought the house down)
  
• 1st Runner-Up for Sports Events (figures...we don't have much men in our department)

It's too bad our Pol Sci friends can't accept that fact. But I gotta give it to them: they always know how to spice up the event (what with all their complaints and all...the shouting, the disrespect for any faculty that would cross their "barbaric" way of thinking, the condescending cheers, the "mineral-water-bottle-throwing" Prime Minister, the black flag in their department, the wearing of black shirts, and their abondonment of the Awarding site -- it hurts to see departments being lauded other than themselves, I think). Sadly, it didn't work this time. Boohoo!

On a more positive note (let's get rid of all the negativity coming from Pol Sci), it's great to see an exercise of diplomatic relations between the ever xalyte departments of CASS: English and Psychology. It's also important to note that the History allied themselves with us during the course of the Tug-of-War competition. It's good to know that despite the animosity that one self-absorbed department have wreaked upon the event, there are still others who can see deep within themselves that (quoting Ms. Ivy Sescon's prayer) "this is a celebration that calls for unity."

I'm actually glad that the CASS Days are over. That means we could make pansin again (be it plastikan or not) to our friends from the other departments who pitied themselves against us.

This event, most specifically the Cultural Event's Finals Night, will forever be remembered by me because of the reason that I hosted it (does this sound condescending? I'm sorry.!.haha...But I wasn't alone...I had two beautiful ladies with me on stage that night). And I gotta tell you, I had a lot of fun during that impromptu emcee-ing (if there is such a term)! I have exhausted almost all possible adlibs that I could think of that fits the event and its theme! Hahahahaha... Viva to English 7 (Public Speaking)! But more importantly, VIVA ABEO!!!!!!!

English xalyte!!!!!!! Psychology xalyte!!!!!!!

Stinging sides and the facts of life

What do you do when your 9-year old brother suddenly looks up to you and asks (in the middle of watching Disney Channel's animated version of Mr. Bean),

"Kuya, unsa diay nang Frenzy? Makaon na?"

As many of you may know, Frenzy is a brand of condoms. And my brother was asking me what it was for. He must have mistaken it to be a junk food due to its packaging (aww, the poor thing). The same thing happened to me when I was about his age, too. My mom took me along with her in one of her trips to the grocery store. In one of the cashiers, I pointed at something that looked like a box of bubblegums. "I want one of those!" (I specifically pointed to the mint-colored box with the word "TRUST" imprinted on it.) Next thing I knew, there was a stinging sensation on my sides. Gikusi ko ni mama. I spent months thinking about why she did that to me. I only wanted her to buy me a bubblegum. Did I sound like a spoiled brat when I asked her to buy me one? Maybe that was it. Maybe my mother doesn't like it when I act spoiled. Maybe that's it.

Little did I know, the gum I wanted turns out to be a brand of condom. And condoms are automatically associated to sex which is highly taboo and was never explained to me by my parents when I was growing up (even after that TRUST episode).

So when my brother blurted out the question which I least expected him to ask, I was completely dumbfounded. He's starting to ask about sex! ...I was at a loss for words. Really. I didn't wanna give him metaphors and imagery in answering that. There's a reason why it's called "The Facts of Life", you know. Facts. Not some twisted fable about a stork who delivers an egg through chimneys (we don't even have a chimney) or magically-implanted seeds and all that. I began to feel the stinging sensation on my sides again. Just like what I felt when my mom pinched me at the department store. Feeling that again, I decided that I don't wanna complicate things for my younger brother. But how?

What did I do, you ask? I was red in the face out of unexplained embarrassment. But I managed to smile even though I struggled to find words that could hopefully alleviate the tension of the moment. After a while, I said to him, "Nikaon na ka? Naa pay sud-an?"

Smooth move, Flipt. Really smooth.

Being good means craving for chocolates

Our monitor decided to be eyesight-unfriendly these couple of weeks and that explains my absence in blogging. And for lack of anything to do (I just finished watching Season 1 of Gossip Girl on DVD and cable television is already getting boring), I resolved to straining my eyes infront of our damned monitor trying to make up for my week-long invisibility.

As many of you may know, I am no longer allowed to eat food that has sugar content. It's not that I'm diabetic (*knocks on wood*). I forgot the rationale behind it coz I wasn't paying much attention to my doctor when he said it (I think I was too focused on his balding head. Isn't it scary how some people would start losing their hair as they grow older? I can't imagine myself being bald. And to think that my parents weren't careful enough in maintaining the shape of my head back when I was young and adorable). I've been haunted by dreams of me eating sweets for nights now!

They say, if you can't have sex, chocolate is a trusty reinforcement. And since I can't eat chocolate (let alone have sex) at the moment, I am at a loss as to what I should do about my libido...and my sweet tooth, of course. Yes, I haven't done it for months now. I should get a Nobel Prize for that!

Which leads me to my next topic: I've been bothered by what Jedi said about camera phones. She told me that there's a software that could "un-delete" a file that you have erased from your phone's memory. I got alarmed because (you may need to read between the lines for this) due to the "alternative course" I had to take regarding my inability to fulfill my needs in the previous paragraphs, I decided to (as what Jedi would like to put it) take my narcissism to a higher (greener) level. *gulps*

Anyway, in other matters, I cut my hair the other day thanks to the truant security guard at our school. I think it was the guard whom we interviewed about what he'd like to say to the students for the 40th Ruby Anniversary celebration of MSU-IIT. He said and I quote, "Mmmm...Okay lang. Ok lang man. Be good." Ahh, yes. Strong words from a reasonable man. Such strong words. Don't worry, sir. With all the prohibitions I'm faced with at the moment (minus the camera phone incident), I've been nothing but good. *wink*

Bad in bed

Now I remember one of the reasons why I decided to "lie low" from the debate varsity last sem. Aside from eating up what was supposed to be my time to circulate, circulate and circulate some more, debating makes me feel like the most clueless person in the team (and it's my fault because I never really do research and I never care about news and current events...they make me sad).

I know I've had my glorious moments when it comes to this field but lately, I feel that the more I learn about debate, the more I seem to confuse things. Although I -- along with Florence and Kyshan -- have been hailed Palakasan Debate Champion (we should thank Kyshan for this) and I was also Championship Round Best Speaker in 2006 and was Over-all Best Speaker during the 2008 Chancellor's Cup Debate Contest (where did that come from?), I honestly feel that I don't deserve those titles (seriously, without a trace of false humility). When I think about it, I'm actually not that good. I'm not being humble. I'm just telling the truth. X_X

But somehow (assuming that this wasn't lip service), Rei thinks that I'm "good". I once thought that I was "good". But like I said, the more we train, the more I think of myself to suck. And I'm not having fun anymore (it's no fun to suck...unleeeeeess... :D).

I seem to have lost my self-confidence and my ability to think deep. During the preparation time, I always let the "older"/"more mature" ones in the team do the thinking for fear that I might contribute something that they might think is right but turns out to be wrong and then making me the person to be blamed. And yet somehow the blame game loves me. I always screw up. X_X

Like yesterday, we qualified for the Championship round of this year's Chancellor Cup debate contest against the COE (Engineering) team and we lost because of me (again...like last year). Should I even be debating??? 0_o? Self pity ba itoh? Haha...

Rei thinks that I should (and I think she was just being a friend when she said this... Haha). I should just be more "in to it"...in other words, pamugas (the state which I hate the most).

"Debating is like being in a relationship", she said (no one does psychoanalyzing the way Rei does, btw). And she somehow managed to tie it to me and my being afraid of being in a commitment or something...and then gradually it shifted to sex (I could never predict what goes on in her head! But I'm liking the direction of the conversation. Once you compare things to sex, it all becomes clear to me. X_X).

Anyway, bottom line is, I don't know what the bottom line should be. All I know is, maybe debate shouldn't really be my thing. And by the way, I'm not good in bed.