why do i get the impression that you’re following me? O_o

i know it’s wrong to assume, but if you’re not and these (the unusualness of the circumstances) are the mere doings of fate, then i must say that whoever hired fate must give fate a raise. i am impressed. fate even managed to hack into the world widest web, plotted a seemingly normal cyber act, and got you there, stuck at the top right of a webpage i frequent.

somebody please tell me what’s going on.  i hate making up stories (and sleeping with them in my head).

you just did.

or smack into you.

whichever way works.

i’m willing to run and run and run and run and oo oo oo oo ooh.

i’d have the first aid kit ready.

doncha worry.

val has her stupid smile on.  she even repeats it in front of the computer, like she would every time she’d think of that was-it-luck-or-was-it-sorta-plotted event.  she knows that she is still the master of forced coincidences, but the past few days seem like a universal conspiracy to tease her.  and today topped it all.  and she cannot hide her wooziness.

val continues to wear that stupid smile of hers.  what can we do?  she has a crush.

i am becoming a fan of a particular blog entry these days.  i’ve been following the exchanges as i would follow the episodes of my favorite tv series.  the entry’s title reads, what’s wrong with me?, and the author discusses the reasons why she remains single after all these years, despite the number of potential guys smashing into the wall she’s built for herself.

later she would reveal that she’s still, in a way, in love with the one and only guy she’s set her heart upon marrying.  and she might find my statement an exaggeration, for she never really said anything like that.  but i just figured it out.  and yes, maybe i am indeed making a mountain out of a molehill, that maybe she’s over him somehow, but again, it is still a somehow.

what makes the entry extra intriguing are the responses from a representative of the xy clan.  it is stirringly entertaining to know the male perspective on matters like this once in a while.  he would pose mind-provoking questions that even a mere follower, such as i, cannot seem to escape.  he would say, and i quote, “but what if he’s found you?  what does he need to do to make you see?”

yep, he sounds like someone from a chick flick.  so point-blank cheesy, but with a point nonetheless.

i’d like to wait for her answer to that particular question.  might shed some light on me too, although we have separate cases of the love that left and took a piece of my heart.

found this the other day. it was written the 13th day of march, this year. i don’t know what inspired this, but i do know i forgot about it.  this has to be the fourth unfinished story of mine.

does it have the makings of a good novel?  or another form of wishful thinking?  should i proceed? comments/suggestions/violent reactions/hi-hellos/what-have-yous are all welcome.

I don’t know exactly how i ended waking up in a cheap motel, smelling like shit, with a cut at my left cheek throbbing like hell.  I don’t remember what the fuck happened.  I only knew that the second she turned her back at me last night, it was over.  Over.

I am good as dead.

Or so I thought.

The Makings of A Loser: A Love Story by Autumn V. Pickles

i wasn’t a normal fifth grader.

sure, maybe i was one of the most boring students of the class, but i got a chance that even the most popular students didn’t get (not that i think they cared or anything).  heh.  i got two clubs back then, when most only had one.  one was the club i chose.  the other was the club that chose me.

the first was the math club which i did not choose because i loved math.  i was such a sucker for camps, pajama parties and stargazing, and i was over being a girl scout, so why not try the math club where they had all that minus the green uniform and the yellow scarf (which were all hand-me-downs from my sister).  the second was the quizzers’ club.  yep, the club for kids who took quizzes, for students who were sent to academic competitions.

i was among the top ten of my class back then, so maybe i was indeed a bit smarter than the rest, but i don’t know why this club chose me (and still had me the next school year) when every time there was a contest, i never got past the first round of eliminations.  for some reason, i always got booted out.  first blood, as gamers would call it.

the good thing about the club was we were pulled out from our regular classes.  we spent at least half of the day in a different classroom, reviewing and taking tests.  in one of our sessions, i remember taking forever to answer one elementary question: “what is two raised to five?” our moderator had to repeat the question thrice before she realized that i thought she was speaking french.  i never understood “two raised to five.”  know why?  because all the while, i imagined “two raised to five” to be “two over five.”  see why i think they chose the wrong kid?  now 32 is a number i can never forget.

but as i’ve said, they still had me the next year.  in my last year in grade school and last year as a quizzer, one of our facilitators gave me a book.  it has been ten years since then but i still haven’t read the book.  i think if i had read it, i might have been a different person now.

or maybe not.

how to raise your self-esteem, the title said.

mc: “WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!?  WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU YA?!?”

that woke me up yesterday.  i was scheduled to sleep for eight hours, and i had only half of that time.  i am used to them fighting, but geez, can’t i get some rest?

they’d usually fight over three things: who gets the remote, who gets to use the computer, or who gets to play someone else’s game console.  i can hear the tv and the computer, so i was wondering what was the problem because it was a general rule that you can’t have both at the same time.  i was pretty sure they had one each.

and i was positive that momi wasn’t around.  because if she was, they wouldn’t be that noisy.

when i have finally dragged myself out of bed and forced myself out of the room, i saw geowi crying, the tv not tuned in to any of his favorite shows.  it was the news.  O_o  and mc was sitting comfortably in front of the computer, absorbed in the latest sytycd episode on youtube.  she isn’t fond of the news either.  i was guessing that it must have been a totally different thing then, so i asked.

matter of fact: geowi was so upset because he went home alone when he did not find momi waiting for him in school.  and he was so worried that she would be very mad when she arrived.

and boy, was he correct. very mad was even an understatement.

momi was raising hell when she arrived.  she asked very scary questions (but the answers were far scarier), told geowi to do everything on his own from that moment on, managed to make him agree to quit volleyball practices (practically broke his heart and i know that she didn’t mean to. she was just so angry.), and scolded mc about the way she wore her jogging pants (mc must have been scowling at geowi at this time).  and geowi…well, all he did was cry.

[i cried too. XD  for some reason, i cry when he cries.  i have a theory that it began on that particular day, but let's reserve that other story for next time.]

i could imagine what she went through when she did not find geowi anywhere in school.  i caused her almost the same fright back in highschool when i failed to tell her that i was going to a classmate’s house to do a project.  i called in far too late and the next thing i heard was the telephone being slammed.  she had called my classmates’ moms already and was about to call the police.  i remember, i cried too.

[oh, just a few weeks back, she ended up going to my workplace when i forgot to text her that i had arrived safely.  i was shocked to find one of the guards looking for me, telling me that my mom was downstairs.  then i realized what i did wrong.  and i knew that i'm in trouble.  and yes, i cried again.  XD]

all it took was dinner for them to be okay again.  ^_^

naumol ko sa imo.  uber gid.  kada makita ta ka, gusto ko kwaon unto mo.  kanami bi, biskan di gid that nami.  tapos ma-smile ka pa!  dimples mo pa lang, sud-an na.  pwede ta gid ka himutaran bilog nga adlaw.  wala gid ko problema, di gid ko masum-uran.  dugang ko na lang dayun ang na-experience ni pet sang naghambal si sir pelor before, and i quote, “your voice is sweet music to my ears.”  hahaha, myara gid man gali amo sina.  subong gets ko na gina-mean ni sir.  biskan di perfect, okira.  sugtan na lang.  mag-lol ka, ginakilig ko ya.  ambot na lang.  gina-remind mo ko sang duha ka tawo.  di ko na lang sugid diri.  basta, aylabyu!
bale ang title, title lang ya eh.  bay-i ko ya.

i met an old professor today. he gently shook my hand and warmly smiled at my mom and told her how good i was as a student. he told her how well i wrote, that he still reads the article i passed during the last day of his class.

hours ago, i wasn’t quite sure what exactly i wrote, but i have heard that he had used some of it, maybe quoted some lines when he gave his retirement speech. and how i knew about it was through my sister who was working in laguna with his son. she sent me a text message saying, “val, hala mo gid. ano to ginsulat mo para kay sir quimba?“

my initial reaction was, “shit. what have i done?” he wasn’t exactly teaching the most interesting subject in the world. and i was worried about what i wrote, thinking that i might have been harsh or a bit too straight-forward. that i might have pushed the man to an early retirement or something to that effect.

and today, i managed to go through some old school files, and there it was. the two-paged piece i wrote “about the professor.”

————————————————

Valeen L. Solancho          enec5A          October 11, 2007

ES7 / Engineering Management

About The Professor

Life, they all say, is a learning process, and my whole life has been a stage for all kinds of teachers.  I have met those who prefer to spoonfeed their students, and I, too, am guilty of having enjoyed being spoonfed, of learning without thinking.  I have met those who prefer to grill their students, to throw them into fire with their smart, most difficult to answer questions, and I, too, had my share of burns, of learning the hard way.  I have met those who prefer to be a friend to their students, to establish that unusual bond with them, and I too, had the privilege of teacher friends, of learning with the teacher.  I have met other more too, but what I find weird is what keeps them wanting this teaching profession even when they get students who fail them, students who try their best to thwart their classes, students who don’t show up for the classes at all, students who seem to never learn.

I have always wondered why, and some of the questions about these contradicting terms of the teaching profession have been answered by Sir Quimba - “Daddy”, our then Safety Engineering now Engineering Management professor.

Earlier this semester, Sir Quimba starts the class off with the words: “My role is to open your minds and hearts to become a manager in the future.  And your part is to promise that when you become a manager, you won’t be slaves of money.”  For me, it sounded funny at first; too enigmatic that it appeared to be an exaggeration of something.  He continued with his classes through the three terms, each term consisting of group works, written discussions on management concepts and principles, short films, notebook checks, and graded recitations.  After all these, I must say, that a part of me might consider managing someday.  I mean it is as challenging as engineer field work and it sure pays a lot.  I think I’d rather be a manager than a teacher, not just because the former fattens any one’s bank account, but because being a manager is easier than being a teacher.  A manager’s work can be summed up using the word “manage”, while no word can best contain the work of a teacher, other than “hard.”

I have seen the hard work Sir Quimba has put through for the class.  And handling a bunch of fifth year students who are so restless and noisy, who complain a lot when given group work and assigned written discussions is no joke.  I have realized that a teacher, despite the blows each meeting gives and the pandemonium the students create, remains a teacher.  A manager after a series of problems and difficulties might turn into a hero, or a lunatic, worst, a devil.  A teacher, however, has that ability to humbly stay as a teacher whether it be success or failure of a student.  The teaching profession requires a lot from a teacher: there’s time, there’s tons and tons of patience, there’s creativity, there’s heart.  And what joy would it be for a teacher if a tiny hint of hope is shown by a single student.  All of Sir’s students might have shown hope during their days, for he has been doing this noble job for decades probably.  It is hope that keeps a teacher a teacher.

Sir, I’d like to personally thank you for that day when you dismissed the class earlier because I wasn’t feeling well and was soon getting fever.  I have met a lot of teachers since I had this life, but no teacher has shown that kind of kindness and consideration you’ve shown me.  Thank you.  I’d forever be thankful having met you.

————————————————

i guess he liked it. ^_^

그댄 너무 당연한듯 오늘 내게 안부를 묻네요 난 그저 잘 지낸다했죠 그댄 정말 날 너무 모르죠 그대없이 또 내가 괜찮을 것 같나요 그대는 나 없이 괜찮나요 당신없는 세상이 너무도 힘들어서 숨쉬는 나를 원망했죠

어떡하죠 아직도 난 그대 한마디에 부서지는 하루를 살아요 그대 내게 말 해봐요 이러는게 자꾸 우는지 그대 또 나처럼 하루가 아프고 또 아픈지 말해봐요 그대와 나

이미 너무 늦었나요 우리 다시 기회는 없나요 아직 그댈 생각해요 그댄 아마 알지도  르죠 결국 이런건가요 이렇게 끝인가요 그대만 이대로 괜찮나요 난 안될 것 같은데 그 같은 사랑을 죽어도 내겐 없을 텐데

어떡하죠 내 마음은 그대 아니면 누구도 안아줄수 없을텐데 제발 나를 잡아줘요
알잖아요 단 한사람 아무리 애써도 그대를 지울수가 없단걸 제발 나를 잡아줘요

어떡하죠 아직도 난 그대 한마디에 부서지는 하루를 살아요 그대 내게 말해봐요 이러는게 자꾸 우는지 그대도 나처럼 하루가 아프고 또 아픈지 말해봐요 그대와 나

이미 너무 늦었나요
우리 다시 기회는 없나요
아직 그댈 생각해요
그댄 아마 알지도 모르죠

♥ ♥ ♥