about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Friday, November 14, 2003

Just when I thought I was permanently stuck in the routine of badminton training without actually playing a game, along comes today.

If it hadn't for Coach Rey's setting up of a game with three other adults for me, I probably wouldn't have started playing anyone at the Philippine Air Force Badminton Club in Villamor AFB.

In all fairness, I should say that my first game with strangers was horrible. I applied zero percent of my training in the game, and I was constantly jumpy and jittery on the court even though the other three players were much older women.

Worse, my nasty habit of performing last-minute dives to reach the shuttlecock cost me a lingering dull ache on my right side, as I landed on the concrete court quite badly. No points for guessing whether I won or lost.

I was pretty ashamed of myself afterwards. If it wasn't for Ailyn's prodding though, I probably wouldn't have had the guts to try and join a game again.

"Join ka na ng game!"

My second game went much, much better. I paired up with a tall lass named Sheryl. I believe she said the magic words: Just have fun.

And have fun I did.

I guarded the front line, while she cleaned up the back court. This time I was much more relaxed, as I played against one of Sheryl's girl friends and an older, stocky male whom I thought was a PAF officer. I was amazed at my own quick reactions and the way I kept returning shots the proper way. Granted, my footwork was still rather lame, especially on shuffling side-to-side, where I was pretty useless. But I was making successful smashes, drop shots (that's one thing Coach Rey never taught me!) and even service aces.

Sheryl kept encouraging me along. Her words went a long way in helping me relax. Even though we lost, at least I managed to do a lot better this time.

This is the day I start becoming serious about badminton, more than ever.
===

I really should begin considering a career in tutoring.

This Wednesday I met up with Nicole just a period before our Economics class. Her unavoidable absences (she's busy with a lot of stuff) left her confused with the lessons she missed. Tried to coach her as best as I could within that hour or so we were together at the North Conservatory, and we got to know each other a little bit more too. I never thought she used to live in Merville for 11 years---that's practically 10 minutes away from where I live. It explains why we're oth hard of hearing, as we were used to the racket of airplanes taking off and landing at nearby NAIA. I got to meet her sister Noelle too, and I noticed the two of us didn't look or act like our younger siblings either.

I finished the Economics quiz a little ahead of time. While I was waiting outside for my other classmates to finish, Nicole popped out of the room and told me my tutoring helped.

Yesterday I met up with KD, one of my blockmates, for our Statistics 101 quiz. I also coached her about the stuff she didn't understand---probability distributions and that sort of thing. She made an informal bet with me too: if she got a 3.0 or higher in the quiz, she would treat me to a box of Altoids; if she didn't, I would have to treat her to a box of the "curiously strong mints."

Unlike the Economics quiz, I barely got to finish this one as our professor came in 30 minutes late. KD approached me and lamented about her finishing only half the quiz, complaining that the time allotted was too short (and, I suppose, effectively telling me that I had to treat her to a box of Altoids). Still, she did say the tutoring helped.

I guess this is a sign...but yeesh! I just can't imagine myself as a teacher. Reading LouAnne Johnson's books gives me enough ideas of how hard it is (the movie "Dangerous Minds" is based on her first autobiographical novel "My Posse Don't Do Homework"). I don't have the endless patience the job description calls for.
===

My God, I so hate Judy Sibayan.

My SOCIETY professor is very profound, and I praise and respect that. But she really could do away with all her bitchiness. To think that she's already 50 and not getting any younger...how does her rumored "Korean boyfriend" handle her?!

Maybe the better question would be if her Korean boyfriend really exists at all.

"CLICHE!"
===

If I do become a teacher, I would probably be horrified if I inevitably turned into the uber-bitch Ms. Sibayan is.

STOP! I'M BAD ENOUGH ALREADY!
===

My Tropang SX8 buddy Martin Diez is telling me to join them in next week's HCP EB in Subic, even with me just hitching along.

"Sumama ka na p're. Safe naman eh. Sabihin mo marami kang kasama."

While I'd really like to go, I don't know how it'll sit with my parents. Then again, I did manage to get their approval to drive on my own to Tagaytay for Rich and Beia's 3-day wedding weekend---with a full complement of passengers and their gear in my SX8 City, to be exact. How bad can Subic be, especially with a full convoy of HCPers going there for just ONE day?

I'm even willing to give up RWYB just to go to Subic...but DAMN I'd love to try my skill on the track. It doesn't even have to be in a proper race. Just me and my SX8 against the stopwatch would do perfectly for now.
===

My side still aches, faintly. I think I can feel it in my ribs.

I wonder if this is anything serious?

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