first on the agenda: happy birthday candy! and whatever they say about what you should do or not do with your personal life, screw them. (wink, wink - durga told me)

now on to business.

my sister (yes, i have a sister, and my last recollection of me mentioning her in any of my posts was during an exchange with apartmentsadapitan middle of last year, i think) e-mailed me to check out jessica zafra's blog. now the last post of hers that i really took notice of was when she - fortunately for me - made a link to ping medina's blog. (incidentally, doesn't it feel like last sunday's article on da ping was half interview, half musings on his blog? just wondering.)

anyhoo, my sister, who i rarely mention in this blog, e-mailed me to check out jessica zafra's blog. i did and the latest post mentioned her already-known detail of being a not-quite comparative literature major and her having, as one of her first cl professors the late pacita guevara-fernandez. (one of my late november posts was in honor of her influence on my academic life and her legacy to the university.) i was pleased that zafra mentioned maam pachot because i truly felt that she was not given the tributes she deserved at the time of her wake.

now on to another business.

prinsesanglabandera was at my cubicle around noontime bitching about one of her professors who, in brief, does not deserve to live. of course she, being a peace-loving neutral (according to her) person, did not say these exact words, but with the tone she used to refer to said asshole, she may as well have said them. she also mentioned that she read my recent post and left a comment.

upon arriving home late this afternoon, i did check my blog and clicked on the comments box. in brief she commented: i seemed happy, optimistic and, uh, perky.

well yeah, i am happy, optimistic and, uh, perky. i would have to slightly differ with the third adjective. when the word 'perky' is used, i immediately think of the breasts of a twenty-something. which, come to think of it, could refer to me. then again, this post is not about my breasts. though i like my breasts. i just don't like buying bras, moreso fitting them, especially when they don't have your size and when you point this out to the saleslady, they will immediately insist that 'oh maam, you can adjust the straps, you can....' until you tune out like homer simpson (except i don't think of duff beer when i tune out) and hand over the poor, already-rejected should-have-been-mine-except-it-just-doesn't-fit bra.

yes, prinsesanglabandera, i am happy. and no virginia, santa claus is satan.

take two: yes, prinsesanglabandera, i am happy, for all the right reasons. i am happy because classes are over. like you, i'm just drained from all the requirements of teaching and relating to students and people. (okay, when my two categories of people i see everyday are 'students' and 'people,' you know there is something very much wrong with the world today, i don't know what it is. something's wrong with our eyes, yeah, yeah, yeah)

right reasons, right reasons. oh yes, right to mention end of classes. also right to mention i'm down to checking majors take-home exams. still right to mention that i am, once again, at a crossroads, one that i already liken to this time nine years ago when thankfully, i did not pass the law aptitude exam in up diliman or else i would be one miserable lawyer who would do for the justice system what postal workers have done for the postal service in the united states.

fortunately or unfortunately, i am the type of person whose life choices are not technically choices. they're more of, okay, here's the breakdown: 60% unforseen circumstances/default situation/overlooked loophole in cramming attempt and 40% responses to unforseen circumstances/default situation/overlooked loophole in cramming attempt. translation please (drumroll) unless someone or something kicks me in the butt (think tadyak), i am as stubborn and self-assured as a goat.

right, right, still on the right reasons. right to acknowledge second chances, right to hear out people, very, very much right to once again listen to inner voice.

right to have had that reading (and partly because my spirits were flagging). right to have persisted and resisted. right to be nicer to thyself. right to cut myself some slack. right to have dipped my feet into the water. so so right to have pulled them right back.

right to have stuck to my guns. right to have remembered that not too long ago, i was a miserable dolt and i will not go down that road ever, ever again, so god help me. right to have asserted my beliefs and principles. right to have kept my cool. right to have also made compromises.

right to have had some downtime with a. last week. right to have not wondered why my message was not responded to.

right to have called t. and got much-needed support. that i was right to have stuck to my guns. right to remember my old miserable self.

right to have had some downtime with a. last week. and was gently reminded that one of the best things we could do is to be generous and not regret it.

right to have meddled. right to have said my piece. wrong to have not said the biggest piece of them all. yet.

because no matter how you try to make sense of it, the backbone of any human relationship worth giving a shit about is communication and being on the same page about things.

so you see, my dear, while i do work with your peculiar language, it is still how i refer to it: peculiar. which is why most of my responses to you over the last few years were borne of this peculiar language.

which has led to peculiar situations. and peculiar remarks. and peculiar relationships. and peculiar lives.

you see, when i do say that i keep that much hope for you, what i failed to mention was that there is legwork involved. and that legwork involves you and that often-misunderstood word called change.

just so i make myself clear. in the clearest of all possible languages.