Graduation Day= More Call Center Agents!

Today is the school's graduation day. Today marks my 3rd year out of school. Three short years translates to three long years for a boy who dreams to make it big---sooner rather than later.

I always believed that I was never born mediocre. I also foresaw that in my classmates in college. We were a bright opinionated batch, mostly misunderstood but still bright altogether. We seldom bow down to the demands of the school bureaucracy, although admittedly sometimes arrogantly so. We shun most things generally acceptable to other batches simply because we don't believe in crap like dancing or singing in the university weeks. By doing so, we have alienated ourselves from the rest of the batches below and ahead of us.

The scenario was bittersweet. Here we are, marching to the tune of You And Me Against the World (politically incorrect I may add, kay kahinay kg kasubo sang song), yet also secretly longing for social acceptance in a community of academics and conformists.

Yes, things didn't turn out so bad after all. We didn't turn out so bad after all. In fact, we are prouder than ever. My only regret is that because of our strict cohesion to each other, we also somewhat dimmed each other's potential for excellence. But the bonds that made us us will not be broken. We are victorious.

We were never born mediocre.

Bagsak!

As a teacher, I'm black and white when it comes to grades. If you pass, you pass. If you fail, you fail. I don't care if you're always absent or always late so long as you don't irritate me and you pass all the requirements ( e. g. homeworks, etc) in my class. Moreover, I don't care if you sleep in my class or eat in my class so long as when I give a test you don't complain. That's the kind of teacher I am.

2 days ago, we had a university-wide send-off ceremony for the upcoming interns. Before that, I I proctored for their exam in Ortho-Pros. They all looked handsome and beautiful in their semen-white intern uniforms. Their excitement was evident but the hovering shadow of basi-may-failure-ako-kag-indi-ako-makaintern serves a bitter taste on the tongue. Some of them didn't invite their parents over, for fear ( or shame ) that all of these will just be exercises in futility once the grades are out. That same afternoon, I checked the papers and gave my grade inputs to Sir Mund for collation. The results were dire, he told me 3 girls failed in Ortho-Pros. They will still fail even if they perfect my Major Prax in Taping.

Yesterday, after the year-end general PT assembly, the faculty had the deliberation for the 4th year students. It was heartbreaking to see them. 4 people out of 8 are in danger of not getting to internship on time. A waste of time. A waste of energy. A sad, sad day.

Morbidly Obese

I'm F-A-T! I hate being an adult. You get F-A-T! I remember it's way easier to lose weight in college than now. It's easier to lose the beergut in college than now. It's easier to make money than now. Life was bittersweet then but hell it's a lot better than now. I can't seem to fit into my clothes anymore. And hell I don't want to give up my illicit love affair with the equine race ( read: redhorse and colt45 parehos kabayo n_n ).

I'm fat. Please help me lose weight without dieting and exercise. Please.

P.S. No surgeries please. I need a miracle to get rid of the fat. Not mere medical intervention.

Green With Envy

Is it me? Or is it human to be phlegm-green with envy if you encounter someone from the past who managed to make it big in business? Not just big, really big. You still have traces of that someone, familiar to you, a companionship no one can really take away. And yet, the sheer distance of where your paths led you now closing down again as the roads take you back together. I'm in awe at how easy it was for that someone to buy this and that and yet you still talk bout the old times like nothing's changed. Except he's made it. I haven't yet. Possibly never get that far.

Is it because of family and connections? Possibly a little push for maturity. Is it out of luck? Or hardwork? Or proper timing? Maybe a little of everything. So here I am. Eyes wide open in awe. An approving pat on the back. And a little slit behind the ears oozing with a tinge of envy. Perhaps a little unintentional bruise on the self-esteem. But ultimately happy for finding a friend you've almost lost along the long journey of conquering all your dreams.

Green is for envy. So is for hope.

A Good Day to Die

Worst fears confirmed... I'm lost... Hurt...Numb....Jaded....

I have board review sked for tom and I can't concentrate... Numb... Jaded....

Squatter Power!

I watched the critically-acclaimed and award-winning masterpiece Slumdog Millionaire a week ago and it captivated me. The cinematography, the storyline and the child actors were perfect. I think the filmmakers gave justice to the harsh reality of living in slums without glamorizing on the triumphs that will eventually come the way of the main characters.

The movie focuses on the harrowing life of people living in extreme poverty in the streets of Mumbai, the largest city in India. Caught in the middle of the social storm is Jamal Malik and his older brother Salim. The movie starts with a torture scene involving a now-grown-up Jamal and the local police. He was eventually tied-down and was asked to explain how he was able to manage answering the grueling questions in the game show Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? The daunting story of his life in the slums, marred by tragedy, crime and sibling rivalry slowly begins to unfold as he patiently clarifies how he was able to answer each question leading to the next top question and instantly making him a millionaire.

In the poster release of the movie a tagline in a WW2BAM format says something like: What does it take to find a lost love? A. Money B. Smarts C. Luck D. Destiny. If you come to look at it Jamal, even as child, was naturally lucky. He got an autograph signed by his favorite movie actor while stinking so bad after jumping off into a shit-hole. Some of the questions during the game required deep inherent knowledge about many queer things and yet he was able to answer it purely out of luck which includes the final 20-million rupee question. His brother Salim, on the other hand, was also naturally envious of Jamal's luck. He locked the comfort room's door from the outside so that Jamal couldn't see his moviestar idol; he sold Jamal's autographed picture of that moviestar to a local collector; he let go of Latika (the girl they unoffically adopted as their sister) when they escaped from the clutches of a local syndicate and many more. His envy, however, never gets in the way of him protecting his younger brother. So you might actually say that part of Jamal's luck is his brother's protective love of him. In a way, Salim has an innate hatred of Jamal, for Jamal with luck gets most of the things they both wanted including the love of Latika. Salim eventually fell into the seduction of money and power becoming a hitman for a big mafia don while ironically maintaining his deep Islam religiousity.

Jamal's unconditional love for Latika drives him to join into the gameshow. With the hope that Latika is watching. He maybe the only person who was there in that gameshow who was not after the money. He grew up from nothing and thus, he's got nothing to lose. What he is afraid of most, is the possibility of never finding Latika again. In the final throes of the movie, Salim, the ever-protective brother, gave Latika her freedom at the expense of his own life. Bathing is a tub-full of ill-gotten money, Salim open-fired on his boss and his people which cost him his mortality. Jamal was able to answer the final question, became an underdog millionaire and fulfilled his destiny of being with Latika.

Watching the movie, you cannot help but feel secured and contented with what we have in our lives. The poor people of India are way more pitiful than the poor here in the Philippines. A slum area as far and wide as the eye can see is a screaming irony of how people are supposed to have been born equal. The movie, at the end of the day, gives hope to all of us. We choose our own destiny, as the cliche goes. Let us not forget that we all have chances to be great and significant. What matters is the choice that we make. Hopefully, my friends, we will get a shot at greatness. And when that time comes, I promise you, mine will never be less than grand. :-)

Black Velvet

2 Saturdays ago, I mentioned that I did go to a seminar by PARM. During the after hours, I met Dame^ who was also undergoing a training seminar by TESDA for her job at her school. Anyway, I met her friend (I forgot the name), a chubby guy with a musculine voice who speaks gay lingo (which I find a bit too much and too creepy to take). I think he's a closet queen for all I care. Anyway, he brought us to a place called Black Velvet. It is a comedy bar located in the heart of Bacolod's nigthlife district of which I don't know the name.
It was my first time to go to a comedy bar. The entrance was a decent 45 pesos per person and when we entered, the place was already swarmed with customers. We were just lucky for as we entered, a group of people were leaving and we had an empty table for the three of us. The comedy team was made up of 5 comedians: 3 crossdressing fags, a woman (who allegedly is the aunt of Sheryn Regis who trained her in singing) and a dwarf woman (who is perhaps the shortes unano^ I have ever seen in my entire life).
The comedy group delivered a lot of jokes and stints that made me roll of my chair with bellyaching laughter. The dwarf, Jenny, was very witty and cracks a lot of very good jokes. Aya, the tall fag with a great fasetto singing voice, and the woman ( I forgot here name) sang very well. In fact, the alleged-Sheryn-Regis-aunt is one of those singers who can hit long and high notes without seeming to strain. I mean I don't see the veins of her throat engorging as she belted out the high notes. Their routine was basically made up of the stereotypical videoke and stand up spiel. Dame enjoyed the show so much she wanted to come back the next night.
And so we did. During the second night, of course they had to repeat some of their routine and some of the lines that they did from the night before. However, for what it's worth Jenny, the dwarf, made my night with her impromptu call-center spiel with a customer ( who was well-applauded for being such a good sport). However, when Mariposa ( an ugly fag with a Pokwang-face who makes funny facial distortions) was on stage, a table of customers booed him. Those wretched kids ( teenagers) sort-of retorted back cause they were singled out by the comedian when they entered. "Oh mga bata, ari kamo d? Kabalo mga ginhikanan nyo nga gakadto kamo d?". The audience roared in laughter, much to the ire of the kids. So when Mariposa got back on the stage, they booed him and lambasted his lines. I think it's insulting enough not to be laughed at when you are a comedian. It's worse if you're booed if you're a performer. The hecklers went on and on with their booing until even the comedians themselves almost lost their composure for the arrogant behaviour of those sick bastards.
After a brief picture taking with Jenny, we left the place satisfied but with a grain of salt. I felt sorry for Mariposa but I think it's admirable how he maintained his composure throughout the heckling. I also noticed a deep, deep sadness embedded in the eyes of the comedians. Their faces were bright with laughter but their eyes tell a different story. These performers may not be considered heroes of the new day. But hell, we are all like them. Everyday we tread on, putting on a show to get people to like us, to love us. We brave on the insults people who don't like us and we go on living. We do it repeatedly, on a daily basis. We put on a good show. And in show business, no matter what happens, the show must go on. The show must go on.