Severe acute mood swings

Okay. So we survived the poetry reading, although it wasn't as flawless as I expected it. I think I ruined it, partly, but there's always this faint hope that it's all for the sake of pushing the confusion theme forward. Before we performed, apparently, a janitor pressed the fire alarm by mistake and had me scurrying down to the fourth floor, only to be told that nothing's up. But, yes, the fire alarm's very disturbing, if not very loud - and, thinking that this term we've had two fire alarms go off because of a fire and not because of a fire drill...

But, as usual, today's terrible. Tuesdays always have been terrible. I went home in a bad mood and slept through the bus ride, but it didn't mean Tracy was all alone. I go home and realize the tape recorder, which I'm using tomorrow, isn't working, and I'll have to stay up late again transcribing an interview. (I could've done it tomorrow morning, but then again, Ale has the tape recorder I'm borrowing.) I'll be in school anyway, working on Tunog Berde and wearing black for the third straight day.

Today I really was wearing a lot of black - black shirt, black pants, black shoes, all for poetry's sake. Luckily for me my shirt had a bit of red in it, so I didn't have to worry about that red accent we weren't so sure about. I think I spent most of my break at the Yuchengco lobby, except probably for having the portfolio printed and eating lunch. Kizia was out facilitating us - things have become sort of freeform, and it went well. Well, except for the fire alarm, my side comment when Jaja thought I forgot my line, and me collapsing into a really bad mood afterwards.

Discovery number one: Kizia and I apparently both love that James Morrison song. Spooky thing is, that particular song - You Give Me Something - bounces back a different way, if you know what I mean. (Like it really matters, but sometimes it helps mentioning random stuff.) I wouldn't call it bonding, but all right - it could be. I was telling Tracy that it's-all-happened-before theory of mine, because again it's happening - the drift, the conversations, the depression that comes with it - quite everything, actually.

Then again it doesn't strike me much anymore; I knew anyway it was bound to happen at one time or another, and I'm ought to at least be used to it. Or something else.

Discovery number two: A Day with the Kids was moved to the Saturday after my birthday. So much for actually worrying that I haven't bought anything for the arts project the nuns wanted us to have the kids do. And, unfortunately, so much for having this not-quite-genius idea of a mini Christmas tree decoration contest, for it wouldn't happen on Christmas anymore. And even weirder, I didn't know about it until this morning, when I asked Sars about it (in my "bedroom voice", as a classmate put it). Twenty minutes later, I received Nadia's text message, telling us just that.

"At least it's one thing off your head," Nadia said, or at least it's something like that. And then I thought it could be something for Valentine's - of course, I was joking, for that's what probably came next, after my birthday. And, yes, we have to show our love for the kids, right?

At least nothing's a cause for discomfort anymore. I guess I've made far too many friends - insert Marcia's characteristic doubt - to the point that I'm left out again. Oh, but I'm a committee head, but it's work, and it's usually different, but you can't still help but be overwhelmed at times. You know, something like, probably, having Maita greet you every time you pass by Miguel to class. I do know too many people now. It isn't supposedly bad, I guess.

Discovery number three: Jackie has my confirmation certificate. Yes, from last year. And her latesy entry did remind me that, first, it's been a year, and two, majors ain't getting any easier. Waiting for Dhi in front of M206, I noticed people really want to cry (and apparently, one has, only I won't bother knowing who).

But I don't want to wear black anymore. I think I'm slowly drifting to something short of Meh's wardrobe, which is either black or white (but I'll admit, she looks pretty in it), and I think I'm getting some sort of reputation about it. Even weirder, black seems to be everybody's favorite color. Think of Nadia texting us to "wear your batch shirt" - which is black, by the way. But I don't have one. Such a loser, I am.

When I drift to randomness, I obviously don't want anything to happen. I'm still typing a blog entry, despite a sore shoulder, questions to internalize, and a plot twist to nurse. It's weird thinking we've all done it, and then we aren't done yet. As for me, I'm just thinking it's a phase again. And I'm typing it in again. And I'm telling people the same old story, only with a different name.

Forgive me. I'm having one of my severe acute mood swings.

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