To Whom It May Concern

First off, let me greet you (YES, NO ONE ELSE BUT YOU), a pleasant evening. I know you’re not expecting anything like this, especially at this ungodly hour, but brace yourself for fan mails from now on. This surely is part of the fun of your chosen profession.

Of course it was a relief that after weeks of waiting, you’ve finally arrived. Then again, my instincts knew better and told me that you would bring nothing but catastrophe—that you’re the psychic twin of someone I’ve used to ridicule with all my heart.

You share the same pretty face (albeit you look sweet with your pimpled face whereas she seems snooty with her unblemished skin), almost the same height, the same hair length, the same attitude problem, and lastly, the same penchant for using a language the world knows you’re not well-acquainted with. And let me tell you, you’ve got a peculiar accent which I’m starting to love (if I could just help being so ironic). At least you know how to dress well, the class would be better off with the only one undisputed fashion icon; I don’t need another one to roll my eyes on.

I won’t make this pointless letter any longer (or any more pointless), for words alone can never express how much I feel for you. Damn you. Damn that subject Basic Economics with Eternal Damnation and Agaricus Mushrooms as well. Life would have been better for all of us had you not declined the offer of that world-renowned company you brag about.

P.S. You liked to say there’s no free lunch (as a proof that you’re a budding economist). Well I say, there’s no free publicity in my blog, too. You’ll pay for this in God’s time. In God’s time, dearie.

On Speaking and Spontaneity

Early yesterday morning, the first day of December, school greeted me with the same stale air one cannot associate with the much-anticipated time of the year that is Christmas (or Christmas break, to be precise). Since the professors in the first two major subjects weren’t in, the girls decided that we go to SM Centerpoint for a stroll.

At Booksale, I got another Scarpetta novel, chanced upon a copy of Lost Souls by Poppy Z. Brite which Irene bought, while the other three drooled over the eleventh book in Darren Shan’s Cirque du Freak series. We thought of seeing a movie, but being the GCs that we are, opted to go back to school for a long overdue first quiz in Psychology…only to flunk it.

Then came Miss K. bringing yet another round of shudders within me as she announced that we’ll have a 2-minute speaking activity again: this time, a prepared speech on a topic that was selected at random in a pouch filled with folded pieces of paper submitted by everybody in the class. Some of the girls have picked out such vague topics as Life, Death, AIDS. The inconsiderate ones didn’t know how to be a bit more specific. And the others picked out subjects as absurd (The only appropriate adjective I can think of, because the initial reaction this topic provokes is a HUH?) as Pasig River Rehabilitation, and as politically-oriented as 2010 Presidentiables and Automated Elections. I am contented with mine, however. The question was written in slender letters that would pass for legibility: Are you in favor of those television programs making Pinoy versions of such Korea Novela [sic] instead of producing unique Pinoy stories? There, I got the thought loud and clear, and if I’ll be just as confident as I am when I spell words out in a spelling bee, I know I can deliver my speech well on Friday. Who’s the patron saint of public speakers, anyway? May whoever-that-is bless my disorganized mind.

Postscript: The topic I submitted was Writing vs Speaking. I saw how the lucky one who picked that winced and I almost told her with arms akimbo: Hey, that’s already a bargain.