may ilan nang nag-text, how was your first day?

response: uneventful, and as usual nagpaka-eager beaver (beavers, not an image to start the day with) ako by going TOO early. okay lang. some highlights my readers could chew on for now:

my cubicle (the size of which is one third of my cubicle in lb) is spruced up with two framed photos, my 'amy' plate name, my vermont poster, the mardi gras devil ducky necklace from durga and, of course, the orig devil ducky from, again, durga.

and speaking of durga, she's teasing me with a gigantic rubber duck - 9" in height, 10" wide. i told her, shit, where would i put gigantic rubber ducky - in my cubicle? bejesus bojangles.

having computers at your disposal (with internet connection) is always a good thing, except there's (surprise!) no yahoo messenger. go figure.

m. sat next to me, introduced herself, asked if i was so-and-so's friend. i said no, but introduced myself anyway and told her i saw her performance in the filipino version of the vagina monologues years ago. of course she flipped out that i even remembered. but op kors, dearie. i remember everything. she's warm and friendly.

got myself high on a regular americano. bad idea, as i was palpitating to no end when classes commenced. good thing we were only tasked to administer diagnostic exams.

speaking of diagnostic exams, i didn't have the foresight to ask someone to sub for the remaining hour of the first english class' two-hour exam. 15 minutes before i have to run to the other building for the next class, i thought of asking for p.'s help. good thing he was at the faura building. i would have to treat him to lunch soon. thank goodness my ass was saved there, the other teachers at the nearby room had their own classes to proctor.

after waiting for the last student to finish her exam (when everybody else left 30 minutes before), dropped off essay copies and question sheets to the secretary and speeded to grad class. found the teacher in the middle of explaining historiographic metafiction. thought, wow, a lecture this early on historiographic metafiction. immediately thought of brenda marshall (who else, anyway?). and oh crap, the ma and phd students have been merged. a little hohum for several sessions. good for me, will buy me time to do reading for my other class.

as with first day classes, it ended early (and good thing b. is also in the class, small comfort).

found myself sitting in one of the benches fronting palma hall. recalled the time s. waited for me on the same bench for the remainder of the books i bequeathed to her. methinks she should kiss my ass every now and then. not.

quiet time on the bench. saw i. brisk walking. good she's still with the university.

quiet time on the bench, palma hall feels alien, the movement of people merely decorative, routinary.

quiet time on the bench. palpitations slowing down.

quiet time on the bench. i thought, fuck, if all this is a preview of what is here, i want to be elsewhere, and quick. they eat their young here, but of course, they'll throw choice cuts of meat first to hungry minions.

am happy for my eight-hour sleep.