Summer classes

Hahaiz... I haven't posted in well... ages, but I'm back for another obscenely long post. :D

It's only 3 days into the month and a half of summer classes and I can already feel it getting to me. Earlier this afternoon I found my mind wandering around aimlessly like a disoriented sheepdog in a cornfield (I don't know why this is the image that comes to mind but it seems fairly accurate), and thinking some very strange things: none of which were related to the ITM class I was supposed to be paying attention to. I'm sorry Sir Keh... It really isn't anything personal. It's just that computers have never liked me and I have definitely never liked them. Therefore, it logically follows then that I also would not enjoy hearing about computers (...they probably wouldn't enjoy listening to a discussion on me either but thats a silly rhetorical thought).

On the other hand, we have my morning subjects namely History and Fil.
Now, I have always enjoyed history much in the same way that I have always enjoyed reading stories. For the simple reason that there is a certain magic that comes with each and every story. The idea of there being more in the world (or in others for that matter) than the things that make up my dull little bubble of existence. i.e. dorm, food, school, sleep. Not inclusive of the bubble is my social life since it has officially entered a coma and I am fast losing hope of ever reviving it. The only person I really hang around with is Trish and that's just because she has the terrible misfortune of being in every single one of my classes mwahaha... she can't escape. I would very much like for it to wake up and I'm keeping it on life support for now but I'm getting the feeling that a DNR form will be in order.

Where was I? Ah yes... history. I have Western History every morning at 9:00 in Berchmans 305. It's rather humid and noisy, and frankly I'm starting to get sick and tired of the damn place (I've had it for 3 subjects already) but the subject itself is wonderful. Our teacher, Mr. Tirol (who looks like Uncle Fester with a buzz cut and sounds like the comedian Rex Neverette) is probably one of my favorite teachers. He's animated in class, swears and makes jokes at least once every 7 minutes (no, I haven't actually timed him. uh duh.---> hahaha its so sir Capilos!! ;p I'll get to him...) His take on history is fresh and focuses on Why and How rather than the What Who and Whens were so used to. Sir Ruiz and Sir Paqs (Awww... now that I'm not their student I'll admit to loving these old dafties to bits :D) also emphasized the Why and How but in our class now, its the focus and I think it's wonderful :D

After an hour and a half of that (everyday--->theoretically wonderful but a wee bit draining in reality) I trundle 2 doors down to Berchmans 307 where I have an hour and a half of Filipino. I'm still crap at speaking Tagalog (conyotic doesn't really count now does it?) but at least the general consensus is that I'm getting much better. I actually go a B+ last sem. Don't start singing my praises just yet. It must be said that Sir de Guzman is one of the most Buotan teachers in the world and is mind bogglingly lenient in addition to that... but... yeah... I got a B+!!! mwahahaha... so happy..

Anyway, Sir Capilos. Scary as Hell. My face crumpled in despair when I read the name at the top of the syllabus Mr. Jelson Estrella Capilos. I'm not going to lie, I'd heard a whooooooole lot about him. There was a moment of abject terror followed by numb despair. The same thing I think a skydiver would feel after jumping out of the plane to find that his parachute had given out and he was falling head first into a patch of big pointy rocks. And the cherry on top of all that was that I, for some unfathomable reason--most likely a badly timed moment of complete and utter insanity-- volunteered to be a beadle. I left class the first day thinking:holy cow turds what have I done? what have I done?? followed closely by a cry of internal anguish and several minutes of kicking myself... figuratively of course, seeing as I hardly have the flexibility to literally kick myself.

But surprisingly--and I'm not just saying this in case he reads this--which is highly unlikely given the fact that I didn't put my blog address on the index card we passed yesterday (thank heaven for the small mercies like occasional foresight). I actually like Sir. He's funny in his own way and quite frankly nowhere near as menacing as I first expected him to be. He's actually... nice. You can scoff if you like but I really think he is.--Granted this deduction has come after only 3 sessions, but so far he's been really patient with us, he jokes, even going so far as to poke fun at himself, and tries to be as accommodating as possible. True, his penchant for saying "uh... duh" is rather snooty (that's as close as I can translate mataray) but I think it's more of a mannerism rather than a deliberate attempt to make someone feel stupid (though it does accomplish it quite well). I don't know... I suppose we'll just have to wait and see but I'm extremely optimistic about it all :D

I'll have to end this here since it appears that the absent minded creature that is my elder sister forgot her bath things and alarm clock in my dorm and I'm therefore going to have to drop off at Diliman and make a delivery... sigh... why do I feel like her nanny? >.< style="font-style: italic;">would she do without me? tsk tsk tsk... ah well... fare thee well until I write again :D

-prosepusher-