Stamp it and fly back

This was before we were told about our (initial) fate. Cuyeg still smiled at this one. We weren't in despair, though. Just seven more revisions, I hope. Why seven exactly remains a question.

Yes, Misha, I'm incurably positive. You wished us "great" luck last night. Now we're to resubmit our concept proposal.

But no, it isn't meant to be sarcastic in any way. I really am positive. Moments before Miss Diaz came in, I felt that we had to defend our feature concept, but instead we were given more time to fix what's wrong with the story. For a twenty-minute clip, our story - which underwent five revisions - is damn complicated. The first thing we did is remove a main character, and just now Jason has presented a fairly new take on the relationships we wanted to tackle. And we all have three weeks to work on what remained of our initial ideas and work it into one that'll attract their attention.

I somehow saw a sign when Sir Doy talked during film writing class. He said he didn't remember anything unique among the feature proposal that got passed last Friday. I sat beside him, as usual, and when he said that I think I had a glimmer in my eye. Not nervous, really, but a glimmer nevertheless. And then I realized that the three of us could have been overly inspired by all the feature-length film we've been exposed to - I'm not as conversant about that as the other two - we've had enough ideas to make a couple of seasons of anything that the US network would take for their fall seasons! So while M208 was getting crowded with sound waves, we were talking about the story, revised for the nth time already.

One thing I learned? It doesn't all fall on Sir Mariano's hands. Or, in your case, Miss Sibayan's. Too bad she was in London on the day of submissions, which meant all of the folks who decided to do a photo essay were relegated, for today, to cheering for the rest of us. I don't know what exactly Yas or Karla felt when they found out how nerve-wrecking it can be for the supporters as it is for the defenders. Anyway, when we submitted the entire thing I thought Sir Mariano was okay with it, but it's a reality check, because we have to convince everybody else. Sort of wooing a mainstream audience - not by ideologies, though - with something that's supposedly different than the million other concepts somebody probably thought up as a kid. Last week I thought it all relied on semantics, but not today.

At least we only have to resubmit the proposal. Only eight groups have been approved, half of which had to defend before everything was well. Four groups were disapproved, thus they have to start from square one. The rest of us will have to talk to our mentors, trying hard to make it right. Although they only have to work on a few revisions and the final thesis proposal - a return to research class, something Lau, who got in on the first try, didn't particularly enjoy - everybody is still fair play. It doesn't really end there, right? Surprisingly I'm thinking it doesn't prove anything else.

I know some people still insist that Jason, Cuyeg and I are, as Mae described it, a "powerhouse" of some sort. Sure, I joked. I'm the floor, he's the walls, he's the ceilings, but we need windows and doors to make it look nicer, get the property's values up, and make ourselves attractive. We still need at least eleven sessions with the spring cleaners. You guys were given, somehow, more chances to impress even further. You did tell me your initial individuality pitch didn't work, and I did tell you that your second infidelity pitch isn't distinctive enough, as the British would say. I guess it's just another one of those things we couldn't do anything about it. At least there's no chance of a complete redo - yet.

Well. I have forgotten everything else I was supposed to say. It's weird, you see. This is probably the only time I'd talk to you like this without me messing up my words or my delivery. And I still have to work on that darned concept proposal. There's always the second level, unlike last term in conceptualization class. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then, unless you decide to introduce us to more French mimes. I'd rather think about why classes couldn't be suspended two hours earlier.

Too bad we didn't get to "knock them up" like you texted, though. Nevertheless, it's a good thing we didn't. I'd not ever want to be kicked out.

And your responses...

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