By Wild Ice
Eversince the Birthday Season (May 31 to July 23) in our gang (wow!! Just like Gangrene Gang--very good choice of word) started, we had our favorite amalgam in most of our sessions: Bora.
Although it is a proven fact that Bora transforms humans into two-way faucets, we still had it as a favorite on top of the session tables. I've reached the point of hating it---that point is now!!!
Last night, we attended the Season Ender, which is Meanne's debut party. I thought I already know how to handle Bora----that my system is used to it and have no problem about it. We had some formal party first and then came the pitcher which contained the hostility of that Light Brown Liquid.
The cups rolled around the table. I was even singing Toxic (which was supposed to be a duet between Jam and me!!)---and the lines made sense when I sang, "INTOXICATE ME NOW".
Midnight, some have already left, and some were joining our table. I was teasing the others who couldn't take it anymore... "TIRIS!!" The irony of it came when it was my turn to lie around the seats, dance around like a freak, and get harassed by two men (IMAGINE!!! But don't worry; my records are still clean...).
And after lying on the chairs for only-god-knows-how-many-hours-passed-by, I stood up and prayed on the procelain bowl--DAMN IT-----I HAVE AN INTENSE FEAR IN VOMITING!!!
I REALLY HATE VOMITING!!!
My friends advised that I should let it out--but I didn't want to do it. I NEVER ENJOY VOMITING FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! And so, the good thing about Bora is that it gives you a two-way-road.
Yes!! I found the toilet bowl glinting and inviting me with its heavenly sopranic humming (like when someone gets resurrected). And relief took over.
Or so I thought.
The day hasn't arrived yet and I started to feel dizzier every minute. The evil of Bora attacked once more through my throat--gotta let it out!! Gotta let it out!!! (At that point, I remember what I would always tell my father--"Never drink too much if you can't handle yourself well with the effect.")
Just spit. Spit it out. spit spit spit. Next time, pleeeeease---NEVER DRINK TOO MUCH EVER AGAIN. I'm so thankful the birthday season is over!!
So much for being a drunkard.
By Wild Ice
It's kind of hard to expect too much. And as the old saying goes: "Expect the unexpected." It's kind of hard to do, but when I first learned this imperative quotation, I quickly learned how to deal with it.
There are so many unexpected things that happened today around me which all ended in disappointments. For example, a friend expected her boyfriend to greet her first on her birthday but it seemed that her boyfriend was a little late to do so (the significance of expecting your bf/gf to be the first to greet his/her other half is a little alien for me. Why do they have to deal only with each other too seriously?!). There's Mitch who expected Mark and me to arrive at her house later than four while we planned to go at two in the afternoon--so no food was in store for us yet!!! There were the two of us who expected that we would be able to have lunch at Mitch's house for her birthday celebration (FYI: It's the birthday season in our group right now--these birthdays are considered the season enders!!) but due to some restrictions, we wasted money worth of two-hour internet access (in Creative Soft Cafe) just to pay fare for going into nothingness; we were told to go home with empty fucking stomachs.
Then there's this close friend whom I thought would take me some place wherein I get to meet his friend. I was definitely interested but then, he told me to just surf the net or go home for some ear piercing illogical reason.
I was pissed off to death.
Frustrations were there. And how could things pass by without any satisfaction?? What?! Are you going to stare at my blog thinking I've posted something useless when I am just expressing my opinions?
*sigh*
I'm having my bipolarity attack again...
Well, don't expect too much about things----frustration is a more painful adversary of satisfaction than not really being satisfied.
By Wild Ice
Damn it!!! WHAT?!! Is that all you want?!! HUH?!!
SEX SEX SEX--IS that all what you know about the world??!!About me?!!
Damn you!! I've had enough!! We've known each other for quite long now and it's all want to talk about---I'm getting sick of it!! Though I am (I admit) a little into such topic but not as freaky as you!!!
I'm not that kind of person!!
AAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrg!!!
*crashes all walls in this place*
And all you want to do is please yourself---Oh, that's just so righteous!!! Damn right you're so righteous!!!
If it's pleasing yourself the thing you want in the world---SERVE YOURSELF!!! I AM NOT YOUR BITCH!!!
It would be totally fine with me if you pay me once we get into business--a lot better than what you plan!!! But, no---again--I'm not that kind of person!!!
Go have sex with yourself!!! And figuratively KISS MY ASS!!!
By Wild Ice
One of my favorite pastime would be becoming a mundane---I'm telling you, even if it's really a little icky and so-not-my-type and all that jazz, it's FUN (capital F, capital U and capital N)!!!
One of my greatest mundane experience would be the Mall Tour I attended yesterday. We ended up there by chance when my BFF Mitch and I traveled around Ayala with the realization that we missed the place though we're sick of it! Anyway, the Mall Tour was for this movie "A Very Special Love" starring John Lloyd Cruz and Sarah Geronimo (I swear, at this very moment I'm typing, my right palm is itchy---it must be money from Star Cinema for promoting the movie!!!). Anyway, it's a good choice of mundane movie and event, eh? (But in fairness, Sarah's antics were tickling me).
I stood in the middle of the damned crowd with Mitch and she dared that we take pictures along with the stars and pretend we are SOOOO into them (and I kept on screaming Aga Mulach). There were girls screaming in front of me and I was mocking them from behind.
I stopped and told myself, "It's what they like. Who am I to judge?!!" So I just shrugged and dropped the mocking which I had been doing over the fifteen minutes of standing in the midst of so many men who are inlove with John Lloyd.
I even made a comment near them, "Andami namang lalaking inlove kay John Lloyd."
Drop it.
Then, that DJ whom I hated the most for her corniest jokes and punchlines appeared onstage. I quipped, "I should've brought some gun for this good opportunity." The security guard a few feet away from us must've heard me because he started glaring at me.
Drop it.
There was some game (don't worry--I wouldn't share the fucking details) but I enjoyed one part of it when Freaky DJ asked one audience, "Ano itong baon ni John Lloyd na magagamit niya pag masakit ang kanyang ulo?"
Answer of that certain being: "Sandwich"
Answer we needed: "Biogesic." (Maybe sandwich is proven pain reliever in this generation!!!Who knows? Maybe he was a scientist!!)
Then, there was the 'bring me' game. The DJ would say a phrase and the last word would be the product which you would toss on her face to end her friggin' career; "Dahil maingat ako, lagi akong may dalang _____."
I panicked; "I DON'T HAVE ANY CONDOM IN MY POCKETS!!!! I AM NOT MAINGAT!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
"payong," DJ/Nuisance continued.
"oh... ..."
There was a short intermission by some group of male dancers. The steps were "right on!!" and "Saikou!!!" but it was the first time that I ever saw some emo guys dancing (especially to the beat of "Elevator"). That was the funny part of the show!!!
And the show started----"AGA MULACH!!!" I cried and took pictures of the two (John Lloyd and Sarah) onstage. But it seemed that Mitch couldn't take it anymore so she invited me to leave---which was the last thing I wanted on earth!! I had been rolling my eyes for thirty fucking minutes so it was time for me to, again, drop the nasty comments which had been running in my head.
Again, I told myself, DROP IT.
By Wild Ice
Though it's not really that advisable for a teacher to walk out of a class (is it?), I got really pissed off and wondered what would it feel like if I do walk out from a class (Prof M effect).
I wasn't really that pissed off. I was starting off with my suffixes lesson when, for the third time in a row, I found Jeffrey Busa (special mention!!!) talking to his seatmates. The first time was when I heard him chattering and say something like "Tapos sabi ni Gan'to". I bowed down to enter the conversation with the dialog, "Oh, anong sabi ni gan'to?!!!"
He and his seatmates denied, "nothing, sir. NUTTING."
When it was the third time, I called him to recite and failed to answer my question. I used some reverse psychology by asking, "Do you wanna go out?!"
Somebody from the other side of the room was saying, "YES."
I did not mind that pathetic answer at first. Then, I asked, "Do you want me to send you out of this classroom?!!!"
That shitty voice responded once more, "YES."
I glanced at the source of that frigging voice and asked belligerently, "WHO SAID YES?!!!!!!!"
I knew it was Arjay, my ghetto-blingbling-yo-yo-gangsta student. But he started pointing at other people.
When I'm on a class and really pissed, I go back to my filipino tongue to imply my change of mood, "Ah, so ganyan na lang tayo ngayon?!! Bastusan na lang, ha?!"
I ripped my visuals off the board and left with the last statement, "Magklase kayo mag-isa."
And, I paced out of the classroom as swiftly as I could. I wanted them to think that it was Number Two (you know, hahahaha). But really, I just wanted to have them apologizing and say sorry. AND, I just also wanted to join Gina and Anne in the Reading Area to have lunch.
As I trudged the silent corridor, I heard a male's voice calling me, "Sir! Sir!" Thinking it was my student, I whirled and yelled, "WHAAAAAAAAAT?!!!"
I was suddenly dumbfounded---it was a man on his late twenties, a little of hair and was wearing a blue polo shirt--------------I HAVE JUST YELLED ONTO A TEACHER!!!!
He was handing me over the class record I dropped. I finally found my tongue (it seems to me that I just swallowed it with fear) and apologized to the surprised, astounded, dumbfounded and astonished teacher.
I later found myself having Arjay apologizing to me. I was a little strict when I talked to him. But still, I felt better with the apology---as much as I want that TEACHER to fell better with my apology!!!
By Wild Ice
Something tells me that this day is meant only for me. I woke up this morning with no feeling of anything new.
I received a text from one friend, Julie. She declared that she's having a bad day, including her broken shoes. Then, another friend called me: Mitch. She was telling me that she's having a problem with her relationshipS (Note the capital S).
I started my day with two of my classes--fourth year. Everything worked out fine--even my Oral Report which I had to do in my lesson. There were students who did not follow my instructions when I had them discuss something in pairs. I thought of a solution to get them talking: Have all of those who couldn't answer stand in front and let them think of an answer.
Did that shit well.
When I returned to the Reading Area/Tambayan (Translated as A place wherein we get to become slightly not-like-a-teacher and do-whatever-just-don't-get-caught), I found Super Friend Kat sitting at a table checking some ugly workbooks. She said that she was not in any mood of teaching.
Three people have declared that the day was not in favor of them today.
When it was lunch time, I went down for my second break and found Chammy, my classmate, along with the others (Julie Anne and Gina--here's your special participation!!). She also mentioned that her day wasn't doing well--at the very least, she was fine.
But isn't it odd?
I entered my last class: Animalandia. This section is my worst because it's like, well, a forest. There will be a lot of "people" standing up. Others would talk a lot. Some would do a freakshow---It's a circus in there!!!
But on this day, they were working fine with me ('fine' here means "though there were slight noises, still I get to manage them well without hyperventilating again").
On my way home, I told Chammy that probably the world is upside down today. I used to always have all the fucking mishaps on a day. But now, other people are and I am not.
I guess Lady Luck had a little pity over me so she gave me a damn today.
By Wild Ice
"Well, I'm just trying to find out why this dancing's what I love."- Britney Spears, I'm A Slave 4 U
My 'breakthroughs' into dancing had been known eversince I was in Senior Highschool---or at least, that was the time my dancing skills were publicized. My classmates could still remember my otso-otso while kneeling on the floor.
Dancefloor Freak.
Then, came that Headstand I did on English Week when I was a college sophomore. I even dance when we have karaoke sessions. And so, the parties went on and on and on---including tons of music videos of me which are still in Yanna's phone. I have this intense passion when it comes to dancing. I love to move with the music. I love to do moves. Sometimes, when I'm mad or stressed, I do a little dancing in my bedroom and afterwards, it feels better!!Dancing is a part of me.
Maybe that's why even though I'm into rock, I still can't let go off pop music.But just last Saturday, while we were having a party in Laguna--my drunkenness involved me into another terrible embarrassment. I was dancing to entertain my friends without care to whoever's watching . And to think that Yanna's brother's friends--and her brother---were there!! (Nevermind the special mention!! LOL)
After two days of forgetting about it, Yanna reminded me about that horrible moment and it all came back to me (cue: "It's all coming back" by Celine Dion). At that moment of remembering about this booty-shaking incident, I was in total shock--especially when she told me the people who saw me doing the moves.How will I be able to face these people again next Saturday?!!But the thing is.... It's how I love music. And it's how I love dancing. I let go off myself and let the music take control of my body and soul. I let the hands of rhythm take care of my hands. I let the strings of melody move my feet. I let the arms of the bass dictate the moves of my body.
Lose control...And it's a bliss....
By Wild Ice
"I 4got to tell you to hav ur hair cut, you will face the class and serve as model."
-A text message by my CT (Critic Teacher).
Eversince vacation, I felt that growing fear about me turning into this what they call as model (not the type like Victor Basa or Naomi Campbell or Alessandra Ambrosio). My friends spent a lot of time advising me about this career I "chose"---or, better yet, my parents chose.
So I've already had enough of the advice. I've already listed down my plans in this career and the career after it (with my friends' help, of course). It's already planned. But the thing is, I have to undergo these test first (nothing is easy in life, okay!?).
A few days ago, Superfriend Kat and I were talking in our own Reading Area/"faculty room" when I came into the topic of looking like a 'stereotype' teacher. It's not that I'm talking about all the teachers I know but the 'stereotypes'.
My hairline will retreat from my forehead!! My face would always be a frown!! I would always look so stressed out (I already am!! I am thinner than a crowd in a K-Fed concert!!!!)!! I would always blog with numerous excalmation points!!!! (Uh oh, there goes the symptom!!!!!!) I would lose my sense of fashion (take note: my sense of fashion--not everyone's or anyone's sense of fashion).
This morning, one of my students approached me as I collected their workbooks. I was beside my CT when this (older-than-me looking) boy came up to me and asked me about my bag and my necklace, "Sir, why do you like 'Death Note' like that on your bag?"
And he annoyingly added, "Sir, why is your cross (on your pendant) upside down?"
My CT made no comment about it. Anyway, it's not a catholic school so I guess freedom in terms of choice of religion is tolerated, right?! (BTW, what religion am I talking about? I have no fucking idea!!)
Then now they're going to have my hair cut?!! It's not even long enough for me!! WTF!?! Now I'm going to show my forehead to the whole class---noooooooooo!!! (Exaggerated??)
And then I have to condition myself tomorrow--my first full-blown (I love the sound of that!! FULL-BLOWN!!) lesson. I have to be puerile no more!! I have to quit acting as if I'm easy to pull down.
Damn it, I will use that PSS (Patayin Sa Sindak) Approach my classmate Marielle formulated!! Rock and ROLL!!!
- Notes from a future terror teacher (???? That's if I can be one!! Let's see tomorrow...)
