part II


wow nman, hehe


lahat ng galit ko sayo nilagay ko dun..hehe


grbe k nman!


basahin mo muna kaya bago ka magreact noh



nku, d q lam kng anu ssbhin q..


nbasa mo na






hndi q tlga lam kng anu ssbhin sau.. nhhya aq

tonight i'm falling and i can't get up



musta mr blue




tuloy ba tayo sa lunes


d q p po sure e




sna po ok aq nun


how i wish...


yahoo moment

One of the rewards in studying is being remembered by a 71-year old professor and that is exactly what I received last Saturday. I was able to answer questions about Pablo Neruda’s “ The United Fruit Company, Inc.” and Somerset Maugham’s “Rain.” At the end of that day Professor Venancio Mendiola finally remembered my name.

I consider it as a reward basically because he’s in his prime. Some people forget names easily and people in his age forget almost every thing. Secondly, he is a renowned professor in Literature and Translation and anybody whom he recognizes surely feels proud. Aside from that, I don’t think he still remembers me in my Undergraduate subject, Translation of Educational texts.

Thirdly and most importantly, it is a reward because it gives me the satisfaction of studying again. When I was in my undergraduate course, I made sure I recited every now and then and contributed something to the classroom discussions. In the first 2 weeks of my Masters’ classes, I found it hard to recite because I couldn’t relate. I knew already that Professor Mendiola speaks 5 languages but it was quite unnerving to feel that my classmates spoke in a jargon that I was quite unfamiliar of. Suffice it to say that I had felt quite insecure before I recited last Saturday.

After the classes I felt elevated that I found myself half heartedly sorry for having a field trip on the coming Saturday and not being able to participate in the next discussions. Those recitations did boost my confidence level. I am now more motivated than ever, to think that it is Mr. Mendiola’s class.

Interpreting "The Interpreters"

I received the copy of Wole Soyinka’s The Interpreters 2 weeks ago. Little by little, I devour its page until the nagging and persistent boredom attacks me. Bit by bit, I try to understand its meaning. Whether I’m sitting aboard the usual morning jeepney ride, or standing in the LRT, I read it as I used to read C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. The difference is, I’m quite dead bored. I CANT interpret The Interpreters.

That I am lost somewhere in pages 40-50 after a two-week period of possessing the book is a proof that I am losing the grip of reading it. Of course there are books that lasted up to 3 months before I finish them (like the Fountainhead) but this book is a required reading for me. It is going to be my first report in my Masters’ class. To think that I still have to read tons of short stories and poems, and yep, my second report, James Joyce’s A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man (immaturely chosen, simply because it is quite familiar).

Yesterday, I had tried to cheat the report by asking Ashyah, if she knew anything about it. She said she knows the plot. She denies up until now to tell the plot since it is my report and I’m responsible for reading it. Guess that’s a fallback of having a super honest friend. Besides, I am not supposed to break what I am trying to teach to my students: READing THE NOVEL.


depresssion, revealed

When peers asked me if i was sure of staying for three years in the work place, I used to firmly answer "yes" for two reasons: first, I would still prove my worth, and 2nd, i made a promise. But nowadays, I feel as though staying would mean my personal destruction.

It is not a secret that I had depressions this November. In the past few days i woke up asking myself if I would go to school or not. I often reasoned I needed to. But last 13th and 19th of the month, I answered the question with "No, I would not. I am TIRED." People often mistook this for laziness. When I told them it is one of disappointment, they answered they understood. Money, pressure and studies, yep, who wouldn't be depressed.

But those aren't even my reasons.

I have no problem with my salary since I am supporting only myself and my brother's education. I am also able to give my family a feeling of stability since I provide our basic needs. I don't feel that much of a need for money even though saying I don't have my material needs is a hypocrisy. Aside from that, the salary is enough for me.

In terms of pressure, yes there is pressure in the work place. tons of it. But I have already accepted that. There is no job in this earth without pressure.

As regards my masters classes, honestly,I feel energized every time I remember that I have studies during Saturday. I enjoy every minute I stay in the classrooms and learn everything about literature.

The greatest factor of my depression is my dear set of irresponsible students.

I hate irresponsible students because they have the guts-which I don't- to waste time and money that they don't really own. The result, an unending clash in the class.

I give them extensions and a considerable number of considerations and when they step another toe out of the line, they expect me to understand them. When I don't, they accuse me of inconsideration. I am not MOTHERLY enough.

I don't argue because it is true. I haven't been a biological mother but I am a daughter and a student. I know my responsibilities to my family, my school and myself. I don't think it is my fault giving my best in a job that I half-heartedly like.

Somehow, subconsciously, I am looking for a symbiotic relationship between us. I understand them since I have undergone and I am undergoing the same measure of requirements.

And I end up getting depressed because they can't do it for me, nor for themselves.

But yes, I also have to think of my other students who give their all, who understand that I am not giving the standards to spite and punish them. I also have to think of those people who continuously support me in my endeavor like:
my family-understanding that I don't like teaching in the first place, they still encourage me.

Mrs. Tiu--from the start, she has already warned me of my level-headedness.

Mrs Brown- she spared a time of her busy schedule to listen to my woes.

ace and allan--my witnesses and my friends, my mediators..

At the end of the day, I ask myself yet a gain, "Am I still going to stay?"


they make me cry

I cry for severe reasons. I do not merely cry to ask for pity like girls do in televisions. I cry out of anger, frustrations, sadness. i cry out of laughter. I cry out of happiness (the last time I did, it was when !V-9 batch 2008 won the best section award). I cry out FOR salvation.

If I would allow it, the list will go on and on and on. But basically, at the top of my list is not the tear-jerking dramas or books but infuriating close-minded people.

No matter how much I make them understand and see things objectively, they beat around the bush and attack my affective side which according to argumentation is wrong. They tell me every thing depends on me but when I read between the lines they tell me otherwise. Oo nga naman...I'm not supposed to make them see things right because they are, simply because they are...and they are older...yup.

So what happens to me...

It is simply annoying that I cry for their kind of people. waste of buckets of tears...waste of boxes of tissues and waste of tanks of oxygen.


audio books

as i am addicted to facebooks, i'm half as well addicted to audio books. I figured that to keep myself insane of real english without bothering my father if i could use the dvd, I have to maximize the net...I'm using two hours of my time on useless things anyway (yeah, i can say facebook-ing is useless specially for a teacher-student like me but it doesn't stop me from using it anyway) so spend the same two hours listening to audio books... and yep, my selection of movie served as my basis in selecting the audiobooks. The things i'm listening to right now? hehe...guess what. title starts with HP....hehe


loving facebook is a crime

with all the time i spend in facebook, i neglect posting anything decent in my blog...and if ever i post anything it is about facebook.....grrrr.

while i was on my way to the nearest net shop, i calculated the hours i actually spend playing farmville, sorority life, school of wizardry and the you know what in facebook. two hours a day. 14 hours a week..and yep...for a month now i don't have a good blog entry yet even though october offered me favorable(?) circumstances and inspiration to do so...

i can't believe im spending money for games...