Is it really necessary that, whenever something good happens to me... There's gonna be a follow up? It's beginning to piss me off. I'm tired of brushing it off. I just want a steady string of getting what I can handle. No fine lines.
March 16, 2007: The Final Debate
When the chair of the board something announced my name with such slur, it took me a second to actually understand the fact that I had just won what I have been working for. It's a shallow crave. But I failed exams and sacrificed my lunchtimes to practice. I successfully succeeded my beneficiality speaker.
Sure, it's just intrabranch, but I and well as my teammates worked as if it was set in a collegiate scale. That's why I'm happy.
The impression that the whole event was messed up still is in me. I missed the original team. The team that wasted pull-outs to just talk, eat, and laugh. And Mr. Diokno is such a gem. Even though accusations of being uhm-ually preoccupied was rampant. It was fun.
Back in, sort-of, real time. After the debate though, I went down to get ready for the 'celebratory' eat-out. I checked my stuff, and just as happiness wanted to leave immediately, my phone was missing. My fucking N73 was no longer in my blazer pocket, inside my bag. (Stop it, I'm no longer boasting the unit of my phone, it's fucking gone. My photos, my important messages, the numbers!)
This unfortunate event is support to my impression that I'm not meant to hone happy tears.
Well, boo-hoo, me.
I sucked it up.
And went to McDonald's with half of the team and the Garcia twins, Robin and Rolan (they're delightful to observe). I told my dad about my phone at once, to dampen the situation. After all, my dad can't get mad at me as long as my certificate is on the table.(I bet the school had enough budget for a couple of medals or so, but I won't get greedy) Anyways. McDonald's. Nawalan ako ng gana kumain. Good thing Robin was incessantly pimping DLSU to me, that filled me up. =) He, in my opinion, is the easier twin. Monique teased him to be so in love with his school to have a girlfriend. He didn't object.
Maybe DLSU will love me as much as well. And Robin wants me to join the debate society in college, so... I'm asking for another "wish me luck, guys"
Sigh.
March 17, 2007: The President's Day
Hey, our last agap in Camp Krame.
To those who know. Or have seen me practice every 7am morning in school on tuesdays, wednesdays, and thursdays probably gets that I really wanted it. To, you know, fancy drill.
Ever since I was a freshman, I had been fascinated. From any viewpoint I could grab, I watched as they threw those black thingies, spun them, knelt, bowed, caught. So, when my turn came, I made a 180. Never missing practices, losing sleep, getting wounds and bruises all over (positively manly, but heck, war wounds are asexual) Though I was tardy!, I never missed practices. For a whole month and more.
Okay, I'm getting bored with my own sob-story.
Fast forward the final 3 minutes of the long 20 minute break before the final performance. I am crying to the darling company commander David Apiado, telling him how I'm not gonna be able to fancy anymore. He looks concerned. He asks why. I hesitate. My ficking zipper won't close. And it's obvious, even from afar. I never took my clasp off my pants because, well, I have shame.
I look to the area in front of the grand stand, while weeping my eyes off in the bleachers, and I look to the platoon I assume is foxtrot company. Then, Xyrz gives a command, and the whole platoon faces right in a fancy motion. And then, realization. The platoon I was looking at was the platoon I trained long and hard with. And they were doing the final performance without me.
That lucky tall dude got my stupid spot.
So, I cry more.
And, then, like a gift from god, a couple of people helped me out. Thanks, Matell and Paolo =) The delta-I platoon had a sargeant, we graduated CAT, and celebrated like a bunch of terrorists thrusting their rifles back and forth in the air.
Oh, boo-hoo.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Foreign
battered