unlucky

I was asked to reedit some graduation messages. While reading the almost tear jerking notes of the unknown graduating batch, (unknown since I knew none of them—at least the students whose messages I reedited), I felt how unlucky I was not to have a high school year book and not to write a message for my college classmates.

The preparations for my high school graduation included basking in the sun for hours, singing outdated tunes, bowing to faceless bougainvilleas, and marching to the beat of the almost synchronized beat drums. Yearbook? Nah. It was just an additional preparation, an additional pocket driller. And I bet nobody from my class was cheesy enough to suck the idea. Nobody aside from me.

I was luckier when I got to college—we had. A decent one actually. I have to be biased since my friend was the editor of the yearbook. And I helped in editing some of the parts of the black and silver hard-bound keeper of memories. I wasn’t as excited about it as I would have been if all of us were to give our messages. I knew back then that it was impossible since it was hard enough to edit the yearbook with only the names, achievements, addresses, and life-quotes. What more if everyone would put in a 2-3-sentence message?

After finishing the editing of those messages I thought that it was for the best. After all I couldn’t imagine myself reading those cheesy messages. I couldn’t even think of what to write to begin with. Lastly, my sincerity in dealing with my classmates couldn’t be measured by those 3 liner messages. I can still say I am unlucky for not experiencing the yearbook as how high school students are supposed to experience them. But it all ends to that.

early anticipation of birthday gift

Harry Potter is on the move and I am not daunted in any way whether or not eclipse will be shown in the same month. All I care about is to give myself a perfect birthday gift. And I’m going to get it, I know.

I am not thinking of splurging for my birthday. At the rate that I am spending money, any time this school year I will be bankrupt sometime in April. What I thought of giving myself is watching HP7 with someone dear to me.

When I was in third year college, I watched HP5 with Kenneth James dela Paz. It was just after my student teaching in Caloocan science High School when I decided to watch the film and I intended to watch it alone. Then I received a text message from Neko asking me if I wanted to watch HP. As far as I can remember he didn’t know it was birthday.

In the showing of HP6, I had series of mental and cardiac problems. Therefore, I don’t have any idea, yep, until now, what the movie is like—not that I don’t know what it is all about. Also, I didn’t have somebody worthy enough to accompany me to the cinema. Last but not the least, it wasn’t my birthday when it was shown.

I couldn’t show my happiness when my co-teacher told me yesterday that the first installment of HP7 is going to be shown this July. What luck?—or fate? Hehe. Learning this I immediately texted the one I trust so much and asked if i will be given a perfect gift for my birthday. I’m still waiting for his answer. Well, I can’t blame him. July is still a long way. I should not expect him to give me a “yes or no” in snap.

But since I saw that episode in the tagalized version of full house, I couldn’t help envying Jessie for receiving gifts on her birthday. Argh. I wish I could pull the days. Huhu..and another wish: he’ll be my birth day gift.

seeing slamdunk and falling out of love

Back when I was in high school, I used to get addicted to the anime Slam Dunk. I used the internet to search for “facts” about the anime. I found much later that I was hooked to the fanfictions written about Sam Dunk as well. To think, I even followed sites for forum to check whether Rukawa is gay or not.

I remember one time, my seatmate/neighbor/music video partner/chatmate/comrade Ryia and I cut classes to watch Slam Dunk in her house. The episode was about Megane-kun/kogure. We also made “scrapbooks” and traded cards and stickers.

In my case, the manic disease got worse. For several times, I attempted to create a fanfiction featuring Akira Sendoh. Such futile attempts—up until now, I still plan to continue with it but I lost the creative juices and the time long ago. I only ended up having a character sketch. I even decided to trash the whole idea. I only have the plot with me now.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love Slam Dunk anymore. I still watch its Tagalized version in GMA7 even though we already have the dvd version of it. Hihi. I still have akira sendoh as my standard of a good guy. I don’t know where that actually came from. From time to time I think of the would-be fanfiction for it.

Probably the addiction gradually wears off once maturity sets in. Since I’m an immature person, a part of me still clings to the anime world and the other half is already in what Holden calls a phony world. Phony but more realistic.

being organized for the sake of lappy

.since lappy is here, i can't find any reason for me not to organize my files. from pictures, to vids, to literature. so, i'm proud to annonce that i made a new blogspot acct to store my essays, poems, and stories.

for those who are checking my blog (i know a few who do--pity them..hehe peace) for literary pieces if you find them literary enough for your taste, just go to www.walaakongkwenta.wordpress.com or walaakongkwenta.deviantart.com, or yet www.inkspillsandblots.blogspot.com

For those who are used to my usual rants, don't you worry--or should i say, worry..hehe-- i will still be using this as a sort of breather (feeling sikat lang kumbaga hehe)

ciao..

along the hallway

to forgive and forget is not as easy as they say.

when you would meet the person whom you used to love, quote-unquote, who did not care for you, who betrayed your trust, you would still feel the pain. You would still try to blot his exsitence by not looking at him and walking on. you would still not meet his eyes. and who cares if he would or not try to capture your attention. you would just move away. then you would pray that you had not seen him. and he had not seen you.

you would pretend you were not affected. you would laugh, smile, chat. You would be merry. But you knew you weren't. because you were thinking of him. all day. and you were torn.

because all along you thought you had forgiven and forgotten. but you haven't moved on.

wahahaha

another escapade accomplished by the pardners...hekhek

terrific trio--one of those uncelebrated anniversaries

8 November 2005-- we were formed because of an aim to serve the PNU community through an honest election. We weren't united because of the thick bond called friendship, but a strong purpose to serve. But we ended up fulfilling our duties to the students and to one another and we, Grace Ann S. Estores, Katherine E. Vera, and I, became friends.

We started our journey together when we promised to hold on and keep the spirit of the once-dying-PNU-COMELEC. In that dark room, bereft of electricity, left by the "trusted" Chairman, we made vows of building the organization, returning it to its stature. With those vows, we committed ourselves to a relationship that neither distance nor ideologies could break but challenge.

It took us series of tribulations to measure the strength of our friendship. After four years, I am glad to find that we still have each other to cry upon, to share. Distance and ideologies are still our best antagonists but they don't keep us apart that much.

Of course it is natural that since we aren't in the same school and organization now, we live separate lives. We have our secrets we dare not reveal each other but that is a part of friendship--honoring each other. We respect and trust one another so much that we need not know every thing. We value our bond more than we value our individual differences.

A year passed with its silent celebration. Another year will turn. Another year will witness how far our friendship can go. Nobody can say whether we will drift closer or apart. But we can always choose. As for me, as long as I have the chance, I will make our friendship better.

part II

Joseph

wow nman, hehe

4:00amWorthless

lahat ng galit ko sayo nilagay ko dun..hehe

4:01amJoseph

grbe k nman!

4:01amWorthless

basahin mo muna kaya bago ka magreact noh

hehe

4:04amJoseph

nku, d q lam kng anu ssbhin q..

4:05amWorthless

nbasa mo na

4:13amJoseph

yup

4:14amWorthless

ok

4:15amJoseph

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

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

Worthless

hello

musta mr blue

3:18amJoseph

hi!

3:19amWorthless

tuloy ba tayo sa lunes

3:25amJoseph

d q p po sure e

3:25amWorthless

ok

3:27amJoseph

sna po ok aq nun

3:28amWorthless

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...