Recent Events, February 2013

Am blogging for the sake of blogging - go, me! It's been a month since the last time I wrote for this space of virtual pseudo-property, and while much has happened, there's not much that can be put into words. Chos.

Here are some pictures that I hope are capable of summarizing what I've been distracting myself with lately:

 

This was taken just earlier, 12. Feb, when the UP Deutscher Verein or the UP German Club, of which I'm a member, hosted a literacy program in New Era HS. Auf Deutsch. I must have had a virtual nosebleed - teaching high school students is so challenging! The batch salutatorian - who, with a little push in the right direction - might turn out to be an interesting specimen for Blair Waldorfs in the Philippines, was in my study group. She was not impressed that I did not know what the German word for Hamster is. (It is, by the way, (das) Meerschweinchen.)

on preadvising and other torture tools

Definitely one of the things I hate most about studying in UP is enrollment season. When I graduated, I looked back on all those hours of lining up in front of legally unforgiving doors and thanking them for honing my previously untried patience. But that was before I encountered the fork-tailed demon that is pre-advising. Now that I'm working to earn a second degree - and do me the favor of not being the nth person to ask me why - I have to go through the whole experience of tertiary education again, and if this first day of filing my admission is any sign of the pain to come, the semesters ahead are going to be full of awkward moments with registration staff and sweat-stained armpits.

A few tips for noobs to the UPD June days-madness - because the registration veteran probably has more to contribute to this list that I do:

1. Expect the lining-up to last for days. And I don't even mean the whole enrollment process, I'm talking about just one door. Some of my comrades from the fight earlier - and I actually did hear someone refer to her enrollment strategy as a 'battle plan' - have to return tomorrow because our department's pre-advising section couldn't accommodate them today. At the very least, the whole hullabaloo of getting all the subjects you need - emphasis on the difference from want - will last three days. And that's only if you're extremely blessed, else part of the University Registration Staff.

2. Bring two things to occupy your time. A single book isn't enough - unless you're a bibliovore who can chow on Gaiman and Friends for five straight hours. My seatmate - more accurately, floormate, since we were squatting in one of the FC hallways - had her radiophone and The Grapes of Wrath. The guy who was beside me before the lunch break messed our seating order brought nothing but Skyflakes - and a laptop that didn't seem to interest him - so he had to contend with staring at his knees for some time. Then again, he was a transferee, so laughing at his situation then doesn't seem right.

3. Discuss with your inner child whether you're going to eat or not. Most veterans don't, although the truly experienced abandon ship for the canteen when they know their timing's right. Even if you decide not to bring the traditionally suggested fix of crackers, however, be sure to bring water. You'll probably be dehydrated because the most probable case is, there's only one electric fan for everyone within a 100-meter radius.

4. Bring a ballpoint pen, a stapler, and a stock of flattering ID photos in all standard sizes. You never know when your adviser will say that your department requires a student directory aside from the one required by the Office of the University Registrar AND the Office of the College Secretary. So a week before enrollment, find an affordable photo studio and Mona Lisa smile all you want. [Don't forget to tweeze your eyebrows.]

5. Persist gently, even when the Registration Assistant tells you there's no hope. Miracles happen. And often, professors are willing to work overtime for those who are hopeful enough to latch onto Buddha's nylon string. Don't argue overboard, but don't give in without question. That is the key to getting a class after the dreaded 7AM schedule.

Lastly, don't forget to put on deodorant. Have pity on the poor soul crouched next to you.

Happy Stress

So I haven't written for a coupla weeks now - it's school, darnit, school. Admittedly, I had plenty of time to drop a line or two, but I didn't really have anything remotely interesting to share then. I guess I still don't have anything remarkable to relay... But anyway, I miss blogging. So please pardon this half-brained exercise of ranting random thoughts. It's a habit I haven't been relishing lately....

Some reminders for myself now that I'm a senior, supposedly mature and street-smart:

1. Get off at the right stop. Since June 1, you've gotten lost TWICE because you didn't get off where you were supposed to. The first time, you rode a jeep in Philcoa, which wound its way through Cubao, before it passed by Philcoa again and you finally realized you were back where you started. The second time, you rode a Katipunan jeep, fully intending to get off at Balara, only to realize you missed your chance to say para, thus, leaving you no choice spare getting off in front of Petron. Again. Presence of mind, dear. This ain't a reflex contest, but it's not playtime in tellytubby land either.

2. Jog around the acad oval to boost your stamina. If you don't, you'll feel faint in Women's Basketball again; do you want Coach Juliano to force you to lie down? That aside, energy is a prereq for this game. Just imagine how many calories you and your classmates burn each time you scream whenever the ball's within a three-meter radius!

3. Don't go to the tambayan if you want to study. If you go there, you'll think of nothing but playing Mismo, exchanging playful barbs with Ging, or attempting to answer crossword puzzles with Simoun. Don't. Even. Think. About. It. The girls might even force you to teach them Nobody if the Desabelles aren't around.

4. Watch a movie more than once if you really like it. Chances are, you'll shed that tear you've been keeping in check the first time around. Say, Toy Story 3, which you watched with Mary the first time - the cinema being so jampacked you had to sit apart - and with PC the second time. The first time, the Andy-Woody drama made you sniff; the second time, a tear actually rolled out of your tearducts. So rewatch movies if you like them. Just not on a Nodame-marathon level, okay? You don't have time.

By the way, time can't be gold. Gold can be exchanged, it can be a commodity, or an alternative to money. But time? Can't be exchanged. If it flits by, it's flitted by. There's no catching it back.