Summer's End Very Soon

Hello, everyone.

The weather here at Cainta has been,,, how shall I say this? Fickle? Indecisive? Namby-pambyish? Everyday at late afternoon , the sky turns a sullen grey and lets loose a grumble-growl every now and then. It stays this way for an hour or two, keeping us mortals on uneasy tenterhooks, waiting for something final from the sky. It's that way unti early evening. Either that, or an unusually light drizzle to punctuate it all.

Yesterday found my purging my heavy purple plastic thesis "suitcase" of old material I didn't need to hang onto anymore. I've rearranged my suitcase proirities, entitled the good spaces for what and who matters for my thesis. The new topic has freed me to start from scratch. And it's good.

I'm currently combing through the first few chapters of Harold Clurman's On Directing, as I've found they prove yo be most helpful. Here I am, picking up and picking through the pieces again , and it feels good to find some choice pieces are bigger and and of better weight than most of the pieces I previously had to make do with. This book is certainly going into my Review of Related Lit list.

There's still a few more old, hard-bound books leased from my grandmother's library to peruse before the School Library opens, so there's still more work to be done. I must admit, it's been quite a while since I've felt like this. I can sense the whisker-tips of the creature called Fullfilment just a touch away from my fingers. Musn't tease, musn't coax, musn't frighten it away. Approach it will, pawed-step by soft pawed-step.

Good News! Good News!

I've just come from an advising session with Ma'am Edna May in the Department, and I am glad to say, we have progress. Personal progress, even.

For one, I've begun to take steps, small as they may be, to making this whole thesis and this whole idea MINE. That's good. It feels good, to finally start taking the reins on my thesis, and figuring out just where I start heading out to.

Ma'am Edna May has been real helpful today. We finally cleared it out that No, we will not be taking Sir Nick Pichay's Komedi, nor will we take Mario O'Hara's Palasyo ni Valentin for my thesis. Those already belong to Playwright's Theater, and we've limited ourselves to Dulaang UP productions, because it's University Theater. So there.

however, we shall add SirDng De Los Reyes to our list for Daungan...Laot...Daungan (as Sir Ogie told me, the play was given the alternative title Rehas sa Tubig when it was performed in the Metropolitan Theater.) Sir Ogie gave me a very helpful lead to finding and hopefully getting in touch with Sir De Los Reyes. I am to call up Palanca (as in the Palanca Awards Office of sorts) and ask them if they might lend me information and help me out with my thesis. Uh, Dean? Pretty Please? ^_^

Is beri gud. ;)

Bull Session.

Mama S and I once more took to Gateway Mall and discussed my thesis proposal, a bit of play, and my status on both subjects of the previous requirements.

I have much to do.

Like ... ehem. Maghakot at maghalungkat ng mga lumang workshop/slaughter ng mga plays ko (lahat ng anim na plays, o kung ano man ang naitago ko pa). O pati bna rin i-type out ang mga notes na sinulat namin sa thesis ko, para maipresenta kay Ma'am sa Lunes nitong darating na linggo. Gudlak. Ayos ako.

Sa totoo lang, di ko na alm kung nasa akin yung mga kopya kong may sulat ni Ma'am. Dahil sa gusto kong makatulong kay Ate Diding (yung occassional househelp na dumarating dalawang beses sa isang linggo) at pati na rin para malimutan ko na ang masaklap na kinahinatnan ng mga gawa ko, minsan ibibigay ko na lang ang mga "scratch paper" o sobrang mga sinerox na mga hand-outs o gawa ko sa kanya para maibenta niya sa ... sa... kung kanino niya kailangang ibenta. Sana lang po, di ko naisama sa tambak na yun ang mga luma kong plays.

Sa totoo lang, afreyd na ako.

This will mean a total change with my schedule, my priorities, my attitude. I can't afford to mope or take it easy anymore,; I'll have to workworkwork, and if Mama S or Ma'am Edna or -- Heavens! --- even Sir Tony suspects the smallest thing, of me resting on the job, I'm done for.

This will mean goodbye Tantra. At least, (with my fingers crossed in hopefulness) until I can rest assured I'm on the right track, or in between major thesis events. Kung baga, breather.

Sigh.

I'll tell you something... I sometimes feel I've, or rather, I'll never stop working. My work for first semester of 2004-2005 poured over to second semester, and so it went for my second semester. I took summer ST just to finsih the subject and earn the credits, and truth be told, I've already eaten up all the subjects on my course list. All I need to finish now are my Proposal, my Playwriting, and my Thesis Proper.

Then once I've graduated, it's off to work. Grown-up style.

A quote from Batch '72: College is the longest vacation you'll ever have before joining the workforce."

STS Fiasco!

And no, it wasn't a party.

Allow me to rant as things stand. Kai's hard work went down the drain; to the group's horror, the audio and video Kuya Ohm and Kuya Winter packed into the presentation didn't go. That, as well as other unsavory factors that I will not mention out of decorum was enough to bring our report down.

Buti na lang mabait si Sir Arcilla. After the report, he approached us and asked if everything was alright. He told us it was a good presentation. I'm glad. Bait ni Sir.

Kai soon got her bearings after a whole period of sadness, and cheered herself up a bit with the thought of a new haircut. Good for her.

Slip-ups and Tenterhooks

That. Was royally. Embarrassing.

I was supposed to arrive at 10 am at UP for a consultation with Ma'am ami regarding my decision for my thesis and what I ought to do with my thesis proposal. I was supposed to arrive at 10am, but by some confounded mess, I scrambled up the FC building into the Department by 10:45 am. Ma'am Ami had already warned me on text she had a lecture to give at that time. Not good, not good for someone who requested for the appointment in the first place. I had to catch Ma'am Ami, or at least listen to what advice she could give me before her audience started filling in.

Hurry, hurry, hurry, run, run.

I eventually did find her in PH 132, testing a DVD player for her lecture. She was very kind to accomodate me and my troubles, even for just five minutes. she listened, thought things over calmly. Her calm soothed me, and for that I am most grateful.

Then in came Sir Tony Mabesa, the downy tufts of his hair dyed chocolate, his huge chestnut-colored Chow Chow melting into the floor on a leash. Oh dear.

"Aba, how can you write a paper on me without interviewing me? Naku..." The ful, baritone voice and raised eyebrows mad eme want to crawl inside somewhere safe. Indeed, he had seen the posters for the colloqium, and that had been enough to raise his eyebrows. Ma'am Ami rose to greet him and assured him in a sweet, soft voice that "oh, it just a proposal." They chatted for a while, the she turned to greet Chiene, the Chow Chow. Sir Tony went back to reminding me of what ought to have done first, before "coming to me cold". Oh Lord. My fault. All I could do was smile and take everything, and keep paddling like crazy underneath.

I tried to assure him, "don't worry, sir, I'm working on it."
He replied, "No, I'm not worried; I'm appaled."

Again, smile, keep paddling.

Ma'am ami finally gave me her last words of advice for my thesis, and I had given my thank you's. I stood up and enede dropping my cellphone. Yes, the casing came apart, and yes, half the people in the room squealed. I picked it up and quipped "ah, it's survived worse", at the same time wishing it didn't end up another casualty for today's seeming streak of bad luck.

I turned to Sir Tony to pay my respects and say my goodbyes, I told him, "thank you Sir; I'm working on it." And he replied, "No, I don't believe you." All the same, I thanked him, and turned to leave. So did he.

The last thing I remember was hearing him ask where his chaffeur had gone to. Off I went, trying to quickly clear the area under the semblance of helloing to the other Theater Majors. I so wished for a snail shell to crawl into then and there.

Yes, your researcher has yellow streaks too.

And James had to cancel lunch today.

For now, the Science Building serves as a big-enough carapace for me, and I feel some level of safety here. It's scary to bump into Sir Tony again for today, really, but I hope it's not going to be like that forever.

Get a grip of yourself, girl. you already have enough real-time problems with your STS and your play and your thesis. Deep breath. Pick yourself up; walk it off.

Flying out the window

Boy, for some reason I feel my decision to stop and think my thesis over just zipped by me.

Saturday last week, Mama S called me up and asked if we could meet at Gateway Mall in Cubao to talk about my thesis and the colloqium results on that day instead of Sunday (she had requested so for safety measures lest a riot break out in the EDSA Shrine area where we usually had Mass.) So, ride I did to Gateway Mall, thesis materials, colloqium notes, and mindfullness in tow.

My preconcieved notions of Gateway had been right: it is the Podium of the Cubao area. The polished, well-lit interiors of the Mall gave that away to me, but more so the presence of what I'd consider to be upper-crust shops, like Fully Booked, Orange Juice, and etcetera.

I soon met my grandmother waiting for me on a table somewhere in the Foodcourt area (which had another clue: The two cheapest choices there were Burger King and Wendy's). After a quick trip to the washroom, we sat ourselves down and talked. fifteen minutes into our discussion, we had already arrived at a decision where I'd take my thesis: the thesis would be about Sir Tony's relationships with the playwrights of Filipino plays he's done.

Quite honestly, I didn't even know we were on the road, much less driving to somewhere.

I'm not sure if I should feel bad or sad about the whole situation, if I should say my own decision-making process was undermined, but then on the brighter side, at least I can consider myself "move three squares ahead" on the great thesis board game. It's just I'm feeling what I think is either mental inertia or mental elevator complex. (you know, when you ride an elevator going down, it finally does stop, but you feel like your brain's still up there and is trailing down back to you.)

With all things finally said, after a heavy Wendy's snack, we parted for home. Mama S took a jeep back to her little apartment in Betty Go Belmonte, and I trekked off to SM to pick up a Bodhi dinner.

I honestly still feel elevator inertia. The Sir Alex job is Bonamine to my head.