comic relief in times of tiresome tiredness

the weeks leading up to school-again-for me were hectic, with my dad and my sister and my nephew and even me ending up walking through the sanitized revolving doors of hospitals, followed by the usual enrollment difficulties that accompanied not being forward looking enough to get the CRS thing and password from a building located conveniently beside the college of law, continuing worries about my health, and the many many obligations i have to perform for the LSG due to my tendency to over volunteer, and a mixed emotion(read: anger and sadness) producing argument with a former friend.

great way to end the summer. great way.

and i haven't even gotten started on school yet.

trust me to manage to get violently sick after eating apparently unclean chicken intestines for the first time in a long time. instead of looking forward to school all bright and chipper, i went home immediately after class-much to my father's delight- to huddle miserably on the living room couch and throw up anything and everything i ate.

and it seems that this year my role in any class is to provide comic relief, with the professors almost magically seeming to know when exactly to call me for recit to ensure a fantastic display of ignorance, which, given my endless obsession with all things pirated dvd, is pretty much all the time.

take, for example, property. there i was, all happily writing my name on a pink sticky note, thinking "no chance in hell will i be called", and wouldn't you know it.

"ms raymundo"

and of course i have to get asked to recite the provision i only found out an hour before class that i had to memorize. and what happens? bad enough that i have a hard time remembering the first two enumerations . i also get seized by a fit of giggles (nervous laugh, whatever you want to call it) , which i don't think endeared me to the prof.

then there was this monday when, to the amazement of my family, i woke up early-duly scared shitless by my labor prof by coming to to class five minutes late ( on a monday! first day of the week! eight AM!)- drank as much coffee as i can, and left to school with thirty minutes lead time just to become an unwitting plaything tossed about in life's vicious vicious game of traffic-on-the-god-damned-street-i-live-in. i arrived at 8:04 and slunk off to the lib instead of going to class because the possilities for humiliation at the hands of the prof seemed at that time limitless.

in any case, these things are, in my opinion, moments of comic relief in light of recent overly dramatic events. in the weeks to come i shall once again be busy with work and school and completions and contemplating the slow, excruciatingly painful, humiliating death of people i despise.

mistake no more

I write this with truly, a heavy heart, but a clear conscience.

I made a mistake in my assessment of your character, and it is a mistake that I am proud to say I will not continue to make.

I had a valid concern which I felt I should share with you. It was a concern which I repeatedly emphasized was not highly likely to occur, but which I still felt you had to be informed of. Where I went wrong with that, I don’t know. And why you felt you had to unleash a barrage of insults and accusations on me, I don’t really know either.

It’s nice to be able to blame me for your attitude towards me, to say that I was makulit, and I was being the crazy person you call me, and I was pulling a stunt to catch your attention. Timing for you is everything, and you hinge your justification for your words and your attitude on that. Fine. Timing has always been my weakest point, and with you it has always been wrong.

However much contempt you have for me, rest assured that you aren’t that high on my “people to admire” list either. At the age of thirty your refusal to take responsibility for your words and actions is amazing. You make decisions based on moments of weakness and you blame it on other people. You say things which you say are provoked but really are nothing but manifestations of the incredible anger and hate that are deeply imbedded in your character.

An invitation issued is merely an invitation until you show up. And until you’re actually there, you can decide to not show up. A conversation can be teasing and tempting but the response to that teasing or that temptation is truly well within your sphere of responsibility. Saying no by avoiding is truly not the mark of a man, and a man is what you are not. Not right now. Not for me.

Your insecurities about your appearance, and your age, and your relations with other people, and your ignorance of what they truly think of you, are things which you can blame no one else for. You try so hard to maintain an appearance of propriety and good manners when you hide an attitude so clearly malicious and offensive and weak. Fine by me.

I’m stupid, and crazy, and reckless, and for a while there really stupid enough to miss you and want to see you. And stupider talaga to let you know pa. But, in light of a similar situation that happened to me before, not stupid enough to pull the stunt you accused me of pulling.

I thought I knew you enough to predict how you would react. Dead wrong. About everything about you, dead wrong. And it is a mistake I made once, twice, but never will make ever again.

So, go. Take solace in your convictions, born of weakness and idiocy as they are. Take pride in your ability to hurt and offend me with your malicious and hurtful words. Truly they are achievements which few people can lay claim to. And no person of decency and integrity would lay claim to.

But remember that you were only able to hit me when I was down. And you could only hurt me with your words when you had the advantage. And that talkative as I am, crazy as I am, reckless as I am, baggage laden as I am, I will be very happy to get through life never being able to do what you do, and managing to avoid becoming the person that you are.

And whatever the end result of my worrying is, you will never hear of it. Ever. Ever again.