Drifting par avion

Wheee. That is a rarity.

Anyway, I went back to school yesterday and got another 4.0. A "del Mundo four" at that. However, my position in the dean's list is already precarious - although My.Lasalle isn't updating my GPA calculation, probably because Miss Pam didn't get to post our grades to the system immediately, my scratch calculations puts me on the second honors list. That isn't bad - at least, as John said, I'm still there - but I'm hanging at an average of roughly 3.05. Yes, a drop of a little over half a point!

But I'm already happy to maintain my priority enrollment, which is suddenly my best aim, and not a dean's list slot. It's hard to convince my parents, though, that they shouldn't expect me to bring home another Jose Rizal certificate any time soon. That probably explains all the pressure placed on me. Oh, it's hard being perceived as intelligent...

And so starts my holiday routine. Open eyes, put food in mouth, close eyes, open eyes, wiggle fingers, close eyes, open eyes, try hard to close eyes. Or you can maybe squeeze somewhere in between me itching to text people again - oh no, this sounds very familiar! - and somehow think of irritation in between. It doesn't feel like a vacation anymore, really, because even if my mobile has remained hopelessly silent except when I decide to play Chicago, I still end up thinking of school.

I somehow got to borrow one of those coffee table books my late grandfather had. They've suddenly appeared at my grandmother's house, and when we went there yesterday I ended up bringing them home, for returning come Christmas eve. It is a compilation of the best photos Life published in their second life (no pun intended) as a photographic magazine, which meant me getting paranoid over photography class next term, thinking about that photo taken at high speed, or that freaky close-up of Mark Spitz training for his consequent seven gold medals. Especially when you think that, all of a sudden, the teachers listed for three sections went blank in the middle of enrollment, which tosses our schedules in the air. All we can probably do is speculate.

And then those thoughts would drift to statistics class, and how inefficient I am at numbers. (Maybe that's why I was never destined to be a LIA-COM student, thankfully. I'd probably not get accepted any differently than now.) While waiting for a course card at a terribly crowded M207, Sars bluntly said that I am not good at math - a point which I am gladly taking up. And to think I actually didn't take the advice of those who have been there at some point, the very fact that numbers and productions do not mix - oh, and you can toss in photography and an hour's commute. I know my mother will hate me for arriving home at ungodly times in the night, or worse, the early morning. I'll have to befriend the local Starbucks barista sometime.

And, if it was any necessary, I somehow miss thinking about, well, unnecessary things. I can't help, though, but think like a print production student and lay things out like there was no tomorrow.

Then again, I still have roughly two weeks to distract myself with licence application schedules, voter registration (I put this there but I haven't been there because nobosy wants to go with me), and thinking about whether I still have to worry about, say, arts and crafts. Damn that mobile calendar - suddenly I'm itching to email Sarah whether our already-moved visit to Hospicio de San Jose will still push through.

Forgive me if I somehow caused an itch on your scalp - that's my thoughts on vacation. Simply said - unfocused, drifting, up in the air, just like everybody was when they realized they got priority enrollment for next term. And a sense of focus is what I need, especially in photography class.

This entry was originally written with a photo accompanying it, taken from Ale's Multiply site, and apparently featuring me, her and Jino. I can't find it anywhere now. My only copy of it has disappeared. And ImageShack dropped the ball on it as well.

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