James The Great.

I think I’m actually marching to that commencement music this March. Or maybe not- but hopefully, really crossings my fingers here, I do... because I would go out on a limb just to don that black damn toga - even if that means fighting my greatest nemesis of all; myself.

Four years ago, I joined the bandwagon of enrolling nursing as a college degree for all the wrong reasons. Sure, there was the thought of earning dollars involved. But my naïvite was so humongous back then that the sole reason why I chose nursing, aside from looking awesome in white, is to go to the States, change my citizenship, and be on Survivor. Top that.

Geez who knows what would happen to that show after two more seasons? By the time I’m going to be there, if reality and destiny even permits, production would have been already halted and everything I have worked so hard for at Nursing school would have proven to be futile.

Oh my god James, like, you have just shrunk your brains, or what?

And so I ask myself, again, “James, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” Shudder, right? I can hear the crickets chirping. “Well, I think, uhm, uhm”. You get the point. Go James, go. Make up something witty, clever or funny as always because that’s what you’re good at. Not. Somehow, when it comes to serious matters such as the temperature of Rhum being served and my life in possible ruins, I find myself lost in the nothingness of what supposed to be is common sense.

How feasible would it be If I just knock myself over, have amnesia, and forget who I really am? At least I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about my constant procrastination and the lack of action over my intentions. I’m sure I’d make good grades if I weren’t myself. I’m also certain all the clutters in my bedroom or my head would be all gone. And I’m vey positive I would be the assertive person I always wanted to be, graduate this March, and just rock.

No more daydreaming, no more boozing, and no more bitching about how I couldn’t be my own Kurt Cobain in this lifetime. How awesome is that? Uh, just follow the drift. I mean, it would probably transform me into a square and boring person but right now, I am not in a position to complain. I just have to face it. And grow up.

For that I would like to take this opportunity to air out my feelings.

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m really sorry for being such a mess. I promise to study my brains out these finals even if it means morphing myself into some kind of zombie. And James, you know what you ought to do. I don’t even have to tell you what it is. Or I’m just going to have to whack you in the head when you turn wacko every minute or so. So help me God.

VanessaXXX

You might think that the two species that passed this year’s Medical-Surgical Nursing were the boring nerds and those that, well, cheated their way through the whole semester, but it’s not that quite simple: in profiling this semester’s survivors, I realized that, aside from the people who can both fit in as nerds and cheaters, there were also people who, may never in a million years, would look like someone who could pass kindergarten but managed to pull through. Living proof is VanessaXXX (note: not her real name).

Sure, this girl looked like someone who came out straight from porn that could barely spell, say, any hard word, but in the end, when the likes of Judith Lavictoria and Peter Naval flunked, she proved everyone me wrong. She’s not that as dumb as she looked after all. She passed… surprising guys like me who thought she had a very promising future in porn

The moral: never judge a girl by her looks curves alone. Sometimes, the brain comes in sexy packages.

One BIG mess

Sometimes we want to do things for the wrong reasons. Case in point: why I want to transfer to another school. Somehow, after so many months, I realized that I have not fully recovered from the emotional trauma I got from Ma’am Tecson. A certain part of me still believes that she’s the devil packed in a body of a cute and chubby Chinese cherub. Funny, because of all the reasons I’ve came up with, this topped the list. Way to go bitch. Thanks for destroying my self-esteem.

But anyhoo, this is the rundown…

I don’t want to be stared at like the word LOSER is written all over my forehead. I don’t want to be silently judged or get pity stares from my Clinical Instructors. I highly revere Ma’am Alasagas and Ma’am Quilang so much that I don’t want them to see me as some letdown. Maybe I am stupid. I can accept that. Also the thought of me sitting with the audience while my batchmates don that black toga will just reaffirm that. Not that I really cared about what they think because I know my capacity. I know I’m smart. Heck, I’m smarter than… ok, too much. I don’t have to validate myself. I know my entrance exam scores. I am not mentally-challenged. Academically- uninclined, perhaps, but definitely not DUMB.

So for now it looks like I’ll be spending quite sometime in school. Major bummer (read: I have other plans.) But gee, I guess there’s no use in blaming myself now. My life’s a one great mess. But unlike Pollock, mine doesn’t sell millions. Failure will never be a selling point.

P.S.

If this helps, there isn’t anyone on our college who is as pop culture savvy as me. I know a lot. But in the end, does knowing who Jackson Pollock and the mess he made matter? Like I’ll get an A for that.