The Badly Written Sitcom

     Another school year ends. Only this time I end it as a teacher. Not some as some silly little college boy who likes to go beyond stupid. Then again, not really much of a difference between "old me" and "now me", is there?

     Nearly a year ago, I dropped everything I had to become a teacher, the one thing I’ve always wanted to do, I just didn’t know it. So, through the assostance of a couple of good friends, I got me an interview and a teachng demo for one of the shitty ass schools here in the South. But, being unemployed and broke isn’t really a very comfy state to be in… and since I wasn’t sure whether or not I got the teaching gig, I applied elsewhere. So I went into this building, they interviewed me, then they asked me to write stuff that was, in all honesty, a bit out of my usual writing comfort zone. "I’m so not getting that job." I thought.

    But I did. And fell in love with the people around me. That’s what home feels like I guess. You come in, and everything fits. Everything is where it should be.

    Then the people from the school called me up and brought me in. And I honestly had a hard time deciding. Life is funny. And stupid.

    So I went on to teach, and I just finished an entire school year nearly coinciding with the time that I should be celebrating a year of being a smut-peddling Angel.

    Now, I’m seriously contemplating leaving teaching. For a bit. Not because I don’t want to teach, but because due to some unp;easant factors, I do’t think I’m doing such a hot job of it anyway.

Summer’s here, and I wont be getting paid by the school, but when them Angels invited me to go along their little trip to the beach, I dropped everything and went. Best. Weekend. Ever. So far.

    Days before the trip, I had a little chat with The Dean. She spoke about things like destiny and all that higher power shit… and my thoughts just raced back to nearly a year ago. Destiny. I had a choice between two jobs, and two lives, and now here I am. One couldn’t help but wonder how things would be different had I chose the other thing.

    There was a cave there, in that place we went to. I saw it as a metaphor for all the decisions I’ve made, and all that I’m going to make. In the end, I could go through with it, kept on hitting my something at every turn.

    So it’s decision time once again for me.

    It would be so easy if I wasn’t such an indecisive fucktard consistently acting on impulse.

    Thank God for the Angels and the beach.            

     A lot of people already know this story, but I just think it’s worth retelling. Over and over again. Those who know me well enough know that I’m a creature of habit. I have these little habits and traditions that I can’t help but do. Like celebrating my birthday twice a year, once on the actual date and one on the second weekend of November. Then, on every 8th week of every semester, I take a couple of days off to "find myself". I even have a ritual for whenever I need to write. (I’d rather not disclose that one right now.)

     Yesterday, I just successfully completed another one.

     My college life has been something I usually laud over… it’s a time that was very special and downright defiitive for me (and I’m sure for everyone’s.).  Some would say that I’m kinda living in the past… but that would be another discussion for another time.

    For the five or so years I’ve spent in college, there was one thing that was constant: my "office". It wasn’t really much of an office. The damned thing doesn’t even have any walls. It was a "kubo", the first one across the Communication building in the only place I could ever call home. I just called it an office because that was where I conducted my business. From freshman year, til graduation, I was always there, sitting, doodling, writing, and doing what I believe the purpose of going to college was, building relationships, cultivating friendships and making memories.

    In my time there, I did all that and more. The stories I coould tell… Hell, it even got to a point where the place became the where everyone whose lives ever involved in my little circle intertwined. Hearts were broken, loves were started, secrets were shared, friendships started and ended and a thousands of jokes , ideas, viewpoints, opinions and insults were exchanged under the now damaged roof of my office.

   Eventually, I graduated, but I couldn’t the place that served as a bridge to some of my most treasured people and moments of my young life without placing it under the care of someone who understood the significance of the place. Then came Israel Tandoc.

   Israel earned ownership of the office, being someone who i actually met in the office in a very memorable way. (He was this anoying freshman who actually schatted me up and had the gall to grab my Justice League comic book away from me.) He also had his "kubo moments". (His first relationship in college started and ended in the office.) And all in all, he wasn’t someone who cared much for the negative shit around the world.

   That was three years ago. Now, i don’t know how "King Tandoc" used his time in the office, but I’m sure he didn’t waste it. Knowing him, he kept with the underlying concept of the office… the basic principles that brought all of us together. But, like most good things it had to end. Yesterday, he had to pass it on.

    Unsurprisingly, we both decided to pass it on to Ivan Dizon, The Human Torch, the right hand man to the Godfather of Porn, the laundy Avenger, the man, the legend, the new King.

    All hail, all hail. I couldn’t be prouder.

    In light of all the shitI’ve been going through the past few months, I’m glad that there are still some thing out there to give me and mine a glimmer of hope.

    Again, I say, all hail.    

     There are people getting extremely drunk downstairs and here I am, blogging away. Is this part of the old aging gracefully thing? Living vicariously through the drunken stupor of others?

     Then again, I whaven’t slept in two days and I was drunk last night, drinking til the wee hours, so i’m guessing I’m fine. Comforting to know that i can still keep up with these kids after living the way that I do for nearly a decade now.

     On a more serious, definitely mature note, a few days ago, there has been another loss in our tight little circle here down South. To those who actually pay attention, I posted something here on Friendster, in the Bulletin Board I believe, I sent out a plea to anyone who would be willing to donate blood in an attempt to save the life of a one year old girl.

    Well, as of March 8, 2007, we wont be needing it anymore.

    A little girl named Darlene passed away after living a year on Earth. How fair is that?

   Last night, me and a few friends were lamenting of what moght have been if only we tried harder, even if we all knew, deep down, that it was inevitable. Just took a few more tries, pushed a little harder, you know that song and dance.

    In the end, it all boils down to acceptance. It was just a matter of statistics. Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t just. Shit just happens., even to good people, even to kids.

   We just need to accept it, and roll with it.

    Not a very easy thing to do of course, but what is, these days?

      
      I see Tina’s been blog happy. Apparently enjoying the perks of her job. And there are many. I should know. I used to enjoy them too.

       Alas, no streaking through Edsa for me. What turned out was a night of ranting care of yours truly with special participation of B and beer. Jesus Christ. When did I become such a bitch? (Experts say, "his bitchiness has been detected for a breathtaking period of time now, and comes to no surprise to any living soul".)

      Right.

      I’m months away from being homeless and I don’t have a penny to my name. The school I’m working in has officially gone Hellmouth. (Yes, again, too much Buffy.) The lovelife isn’t perfect, but is the best thing that’s going for me right now. Oh,there’s also my comic book collection.

     Pathetic.

     Maybe I’m just bored. Or growing old. Or both. A fresh start is what I need. I’ve been doing the same old shit for a long time now. The same old crazy shit, yes, but same old is still same old.

     I don’t like reruns. I need to do something radical. (I’ve been saying that a lot these days.) Help me out here friends. I need soemthing new. Groundbreaking.

     The day has arrived, the day I’ve dreaded for so long. ALCOHOL DOESN’T WORK ANYMORE.