whAt nOw?

my history professor, whom i will call His Royal Highness, is a nutjob. he insists that we call him a multitude of titles or his "imagined" french name. he lauds the shape of his butt. he detests pink, saying that if we wear the color, he will forever be picking us for recitation. if we annoy him, he will send us to bellarmine to get chalk, since technically, he can't kick us out. he is the beginning and the end. he eats college sophomores for brunch.

i heart, i heart, the sarcastic son of a beach.

a bit anxious of the oral thingies and presentations but it's all good. i love european history. anyway. especially the Spanish Inquisition and Henry VIII's wivesss.

and then, we went to creative writing class, under prof. brion. scared shitless. promise. paalam. shift na'ko. (but since i totally read people wrong when i first meet them, mehopes that all is good.)

pero im really thankful for going through miss chona lin for an entire year. hanep ang feedback dun eh. sapul ka dun sa sore spots mo, and she makes you realize that you had sore spots.

i will be like a sponge in my cw class. a sponge with a pen.

and then, fil. sabi ni wed, siya daw yung pinakamahirap na teacher sa filipino. aba, kaysuwerte ko naman kung ganun. combined powers of mr. apolonio, fr. javellana, mr. crisostomo, coach mac, His Royal Highness, prof. brion and mr. popa... well, uh... teka. i forgot my math.

basta, basta, basta. sabi nga ng alcoholics anonymous, "one day at a time."