Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Movie Trip with Emily

(In which I was shattered for the nth time.)

My student, Emily, has been aching to watch 50 First Dates in our class because she said her last class will be on Thursday since she’ll be studying voice in the University of Fighting Maroons this semester. She was so enthused that she even downloaded the script so we can really “study” it, which, was good news to me since I don’t have any idea on what else to teach for the next three days. So we watched it and I have to press the pause button every time there is an expression worth noticing.

The movie was so good I could have smashed her laptop to stop it from playing. Seriously. What could be more torturous than be submerged in romantic lines and kissing scenes and promises of forever and see a man patiently and desperately making a girl fall in love with him everyday when you are in the middle of an emotional struggle? But nevertheless, it really hit me. And the desperate thought of having someone like Adam Sandler for me surfaced (I mean, someone who really loves me, you know.), which, of course, will only happen if I am as pretty as Drew Barrymore.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Nemo me impune lacessit.*

(In which R is for Revenge and X is for...)

***

I received a text message just as I was writing this, saying:
“Two things you should remember in life:
First, do not make decisions when you’re angry.
Second, do not make promises when you’re happy.”

Don’t get me wrong. I included that here to insinuate that I am still on my normal state of mind that I still take into consideration these things. I understand perfectly but my anger is too much I don’t give a damn about this quotation so let me get on with my angst – with a question.

How awful is it to decide to live happily and carefree only to realize that X, the monster in your life was back? Yeah. That monster wasn’t really a monster the first time you met. X was a “fairy in disguise.” Don’t ask me why it’s a fairy. Don’t ask me about X’s gender or sex either. That’s just it. X is X and X was a fairy in disguise. And X’s mask was so durable and well-made it took eight months to wear off. Whoa! What a mask!

So X is back – a decision which could make or break X’s own life – and mine as well. If I have enough patience and faith, I would be able to resist the temptation of losing my Christianity and be a criminal. I hope I do. Because right now, there is nothing sweeter than revenge – served cold.

I read “The Cask of Amontillado” by Edgar Allan Poe last night, thinking about having Susan read it for psychoanalysis. I marveled at how Montressor plotted such a genius way of taking revenge. It turned out just later this day why I read it. No. it’s not for psychoanalysis. And no. I’m not thinking about taking X into a catacomb full of niter when X was intoxicated and coughing as hell and bury X there. I’m not that insane – yet. Besides, I can’t find a catacomb like that in the short story. It would be perfect to show X the motto of Montressor’s family - Nemo me impune lacessit – for effect, eh? So the reason why my little fingers led me to that page? It’s for inspiration, maybe. Yeah. That’s how much my anger is burning me now.

I know. No one is faultless. X had faults and I had mine, too. Yet there are faults which we can put up with and there are those which we cannot.

Now whether it is I who should punish X or whether the punishment for X would take place in this lifetime are both unanswerable. I hope rescue will come sooner than having to lose something precious.

“The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge.”
- Opening of “The Cask of Amontillado” by Edgar Allan Poe
* No one attacks me without being punished for it.

Her Suggestion

(In which I would like to thank one of my college professors.)
***

Susan gave me the still unfinished but edited form of her essay last Friday. Yes, it was still unfinished but she has a clearer view of what she wants to write. However, the problem now is how she’ll write it. It’s clear that she has so ma good ideas in her mind but she has some difficulty bridging the distance between the thought and word. We spent many minutes from our two-hour class decoding messages from ambiguously written sentences as I have understood, or seemed to understood, what she meant, I wrote my own sentences I replace of the vague ones, asking if whether they matched their ideas or not. She looked at my sentences as if there’s something wrong with them.

“Hmmm… Did you study creative writing?” she asked.

That, I believe, was a compliment – a subtle one. That was the first time I heard that kind of remark after one of my English professors and my editor-in-chief gave their comments about my work, two or three years ago.

“No. Well, not intensively.”

She sat up straight and pondered for a moment then looked at me it was as though she was trying to tell something yet afraid she might say it the wrong way. Then as soon she seemed to have gathered her thoughts and sure of her words, she spoke, “What do you do in the university?” which, in my opinion, didn’t sound like neither well-thought nor a well-constructed question. She might have felt nervous. She rephrased her question.

“I mean, what do you… study? Like, in your major?”

I got it

“We studied history and English, of course, particularly, literature. We also studied how to criticize literature. We were taught how to understand and analyze the text using different approaches.”
He eyes rounded with amazement and her mouth showed an expression of something in between surprise and disbelief. “Really, you did that?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! I think that’s interesting I have always thought that there are many approaches to understand a story or a novel. Can we study that?”

I don’t know whether I should be happy or worried. I’m happy that she finds me “knowledgeable” enough to teach her that stuff yet worried on how to simplify that very complex course. Well, at least we have something to study now. So I gave her four of the many approaches in literary criticism: feminism, Marxism, reader’s response and psychoanalysis. She was so interested that she made it hard for me to resist the temptation of talking about Sigmund Freud and Karl Marx, yet I was able to. I just told her that I’ll be preparing the syllabus this weekend.

“By the way, how long are you planning to have a class with me.”

“Hmmm… Less than a month, I think.”

Okay. Two weeks at least. That’ll be just fine. Besides, I don’t want her, and myself, to cull our brains with literary criticism.

When I started making the syllabus last weekend, I was happy to find the course outline made by my Literary Criticism professor together with the other handouts about the different approaches in my files of old documents from college. Perfect!

Friday, April 24, 2009

Breaking Free

(In which it’s all about freedom.)
***

The first class with Susan came after the successful attempt to wake up at an unusually early time with my energy still on its normal level. That means I can still handle a morning class with the same enthusiasm as I do with my afternoon classes. For now.

And since the manager told me to ask Susan regarding the book she wants to study, I didn’t prepare an abstract lesson plan, except for the idea that she wants to study writing. Let’s write. How helpful.

I knew that our class won’t be the usual read-this-write-this type since she speaks and writes well. So what is it about writing that she wants to focus on? There’s no other way to find out but to ask.

“The manager told me you want to study writing.”

“Yeah. You know. I have been writing essays and I think my problem is, I spend so much time! It takes me one hour to write. And then I have to follow the format. The thesis statement and other stuffs. I want to write freely.”

“I see.”

“That’s what my teacher also told me. I spend too much time thinking. And, following the format is okay but it’s hard. I know I need it but I also like to learn to write all my ideas.”

“So you mean you want to study creative writing?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“But remember that technical writing or composition is very much different from creative writing. What I will be teaching you might be something really different from what the others are doing because they are two really different things.”

“I understand.”

So I explained how creative writing was done. Then the conversation was led to books, classical novels, poems, debate, taking a stand and literary appreciation. She showed that kind of interest that ignited my own interest in the art. Then there’s a spark.

Now I wanted to get a clearer view of her problems. I gave her a topic that she has mentioned about, which, is supposed to make her choose between two things. There was a short silence and hesitation spread all over her face.

“I usually am having some difficulties with choosing and justifying my choice. I think I need to practice writing about something without being too blunt about refusing to choose the other one. You know what I mean?”

Got it. So I changed the title.

“How about ‘A Fun and Healthy Atmosphere in a Classroom’?”

“Okay.”

So both of us wrote an essay for thirty minutes then we read our essays. It turned out that she really is having problems organizing her thoughts and ideas. There are so many erasures and when I asked them about the potentially wrong sentences that were deleted, it turned out that those are the same sentences that could have made her essay really good. Man, if she has written the ideas that she let to slip, in a manner that is very creative, what a very impressive essay it could have been!

“When an idea comes into your mind, write it. Set your thoughts free. This time, set your mind free. Just write. Do the editing after you have finished writing. Finish your essay at home and don’t forget – just write. We’ll see how it’s different tomorrow.”

The Compromise

(In which I had a change of plans.)

***

The admin secretary knocked on my door and told me that the manager wants to talk to me. That could mean many things: a) a student has complained about me and I’ll be given a warning; b) a got a very serious complaint from a student and I’ll be fired; c) I will be substituting for a teacher who’ll be absent; and the list goes on. I wasn’t considering option a and b since I wasn’t that bad. And I thought it was a good time to talk to her about changing my schedule.

When I arrived at her office, she was having a serious talk with a client so I decided to come back after thirty minutes and luckily she was free when I returned. I just wondered why I was nervous that time. Being invited to her office never felt that uncomfortable.

It turned out that the reason why she called for me was that she wanted me to come to work earlier since I’ll be handling a new student – Susan. She has been studying in the academy for a year or so and her English is really good now.

“She wants to study in a university here. She said she wants to focus on writing for some time and that she wants to learn from you,” she told me.

I don’t know whether that last sentence was true or not. Probably she was just trying to make me feel good. But I wasn’t flattered, really. For whatever reason, I don’t know. But handling a new student, especially the kind of Susan, was no problem. So I said yes. Even if it means coming home at past twelve midnight and waking up at 8, it also means extra cash, you know. Wait. I don’t mean big cash.

Now I have to talk about my purpose of coming to her office.

“Madam, I have told you about my plans of taking my Master’s degree. I was informed that a student is only allowed to take up six units on a Saturday which means that since I want to take up 9 units, I have to have a class on a weekday and they are only offering weekday classes at night…”

“At night?” her face was half smiling, half shocked.

“Yes, Ma’am. That’s why I want to ask you I can change my schedule from the evening to the morning.”

“I understand that. But it’s really a tough decision to make. You see, you have many group classes and…”

So she gave a list of some problems that we’ll be facing if I will be shifting my schedule soon.

“When will you start studying?”

“This June, Ma’am.”

“In that case, is it possible for you to take up two subjects for this semester and make up for the other units on the next semesters?”

That wasn’t a bad idea. I was actually thinking about that, too.

“It’s possible. I can do that but I’ll still need to transfer after this semester.”

“When will the first semester end?”

“It will end sometime in October.”

“Okay. Until then, can you keep your current schedule and we’ll just talk about your transfer before the end of the first semester?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I understand.”

So I compromised. Anyway, I knew for a fact that that won’t be easy for me or her. Some of my students have been with me since I got hired. And she has her reasons. And honestly, if you saw the sincere and bothered expression on her face, you could have done the same thing as I did.
So until next semester, then.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

It’s Raining

(In which nature reminds of me of things I can’t escape from.)

***

After months of being nearly-baked under the sun while waiting for the van, or walking to the nearest store or getting to the supermarket from the drugstore, the heavens showered the drying earth. What a relief! It’s been a long time since the last time I felt the cold breeze. It’s been a long time.

And April is waning. The overcast sky and the rain and the cold wind are giving me a feeling that something will come alive, again. It’s the kind of feeling that will tell you where you are before you open your eyes, or what the time is without seeing the clock. It’s a feeling that makes you reminiscent of something unknown. It’s something new and different. It’s something I can’t explain or understand and it’s something that will never leave. It’s something like the feeling I got one rainy April afternoon as I was so enthused in making a diary to put all the positive things I feel about my cute flute instructor that I don’t mind skipping lunch and snacks. It’s close to the excitement of walking around the school ground with new clothes and school stuffs or seeing old friends and making new ones in the campus. But it’s something more than the relief and amazement of staying in a company for a year or the excitement of going back to school. It’s happiness and fear and doubt and excitement and hatred.

And the rain falls again. And the wind blew. The sky remained overcast. Days will pass and the sun will shine mightily again, making every thing which breathes life feel its warmth. And the rain will kiss the earth again. The cycle goes on. But this feeling, this knowing feeling deep in me, remains.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

A Penguin’s Name

(In which my answer will always be “No”.)

***

I had three group classes over the phone. Yeah, you heard, er, read, that right. It’s a group class. I had two students for thirty minutes and they listen to me through speaker phone. The good thing is, they are with another teacher to help me regarding translation. At first I thought that was a tough job but as we finish each book, everything becomes easier. So today, in one of my group classes, we are on a new book. It’s about a penguin who likes to play in the snow.


Yeah. From the looks of this page, you might have sensed that it’s a beginner class. A please-say-that-in-complete-sentences and please-repeat-after-me kind of class.

And this is how we conduct the class: you ask literal questions. Then inferential and then application questions for both the text and the picture.

So what are the literal questions that I made?

1. What is the color of Pookie?
2. What is the size of Pookie?
3. What does Pookie wear?
4. What does Pookie like?

Okay. I didn’t mention the name in all of the questions. I just wrote it here for entertainment purposes, hoping that you were entertained. Anyway, I swear I tried my best not to laugh when I was asking these questions. Well, that’s what the mute button is for. Maybe it’s just me but it really feels awkward. What makes it more awkward is that it only appears awkward to me and my students don’t know how awkward I feel at that moment. Please do not think ill of me. I'm not really green-minded but it really feels awkward! It really does!

So what’s with the innocent penguin’s name? If you are Filipino, you know what I mean.

Then I asked them, “Do you like Pookie’s name?”

And they both said, “Yes!”

So I asked again. “Would you want to have his name?”

“Yes!”

I remembered when we were being trained on how to teach the new books, the trainer used this story and asked us: “Do you like to be named Pookie?”

And we roared, “No!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Time's Up!

(In which all my hardships were two minutes short)

***

This morning wasn’t an ordinary morning. I slept at 1:30 AM after talking to a newfound friend over the phone and woke up at 9:30 when I used to wake up at 10:30. I did some house chores with my sister sitting on the sofa, reading Seventeen magazine right after she left the bedroom with all the mess for me to take care of. And since I asked her to wash a single dress for me yesterday, I needed to give her two packs of Ghana chocolate pies. It’s a Korean chocolate pie. It is made of chocolate-covered soft cookies with a yummy marshmallow filling. ^^

Anyway, so she’s enjoying eating while I’m working. I guess she might have sensed that I needed some help so she helped me cook. I left the house at 12:30 and got an almost empty FX so the driver drove to a different route to get passengers. Anyway, I don’t feel so bad about it because I was sitting next to the driver which means I have a better access to the air conditioner. However, after several minutes of sitting there, I started feeling the heat of the engine which was worsen by the vehicle’s clear windshield. The weather was so damn hot it felt like riding a jeep!

When we reached Tiendesitas, it was 1:30 and there was a heavy traffic. When I say heavy, I mean heavy. It was the kind of traffic jam in which you will experience two feet of movement every two minutes or so. We reached the end of Tiendesitas, several meters before SM Hypermarket at 1:45 and I have to be in the office at 2! Then I remembered that I have set my phone clock seven minutes ahead of the company clock. I can still breathe.

1:47. And we’re still on the same spot. I thought of walking to our office which is located at the Taipan Place in Emerald Avenue. I still have seven minutes to spare but with this kind of movement, I’d rather walk. I got off the car and started walking. I walked lightly at first but after realizing how long the travel would take, I started running. I wasn’t sure whether it was a right decision or not so I thought about what my friend once told me. “I’d rather walk under the heat of the sun than sit in a car which is not moving. Imagine the distance you could have gone!”

That was a motivation. But it didn’t last. It’s not just about walking. It’s walking some minutes past one o’clock in the afternoon under the April sun! But I can’t go back. The car might be at the same spot where I left it or it might have gone some meters but I’m definitely ahead of it. That’s for sure. Now I started to feel all the pressure from the chafing of my feet to getting to the office on time. I stopped to get a cab and it was everything but successful. So I have to walk up Julia Vargas Ave. to Emerald Ave.

I finally reached my destination and the wind was blowing hard on me, messing up my and everyone else’s hair. It was like saying “Here’s for the weary traveler.” I walked the stairways to the second floor and to the receptionist desk and guess what? It was 2:02! Oh no! I did it again!Goodbye perfect attendance bonus!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

In Memoriam

(In which his hardships reached an end.)
***
I rode off the jeepney and approached my waiting father I masked him the question I’ve been asking him since our dog has been sick: “How’s Doggie?” And his usual answer was “He’s at home.” But last night, he said “I buried him.”

I stopped walking.

“What? Buried? You mean he…”

“Yes.”


Our dog has been suffering from Canine Distemper for a month now. Many dogs have already died in our neighborhood because of that disease and most of them didn’t last for weeks. Doggie has been battling with the disease for a long time.


My sister told me that she noticed that Doggie wasn’t moving after she watched a movie.

“That was three or four. I turned off the lights while I was watching and when I turned it back on, I approached Doggie to see if he needs anything. You see, he can barely move now. Before, he was just having problems with his hind legs but I noticed that he’s been lying on the floor all day long since Tuesday. His mouth and eyes were half open when I saw him. And I was just enjoying the movie while he’s suffering.”

I feel my sister’s pain. We helped each other cleaning and feeding our pet. She used to stay in the dormitory and she knew that Doggie has been sick for a while so she really took care of him when she returned home. I still remember him trying to stand when he saw any member of the family coming in to the house and it breaks our heart whenever he does that. We knew that his disease is very fatal. It’s sad now that he’s gone but it’s harder to see him suffer.


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

“Thank you for calling…”

(In which a popular job is now a song.)

***


I was riding the FX to work when I heard a very fresh song over the radio. It was the first time that I heard that song and it made an impression on me. The singer sang it well and the lyrics were really good. The artist used common words yet they don’t sound awkward when he sang it. I wasn’t able to search it on the net during working hours though. However, I saw a commercial on it on GMA 7 and found out that the song title was "Kol Center" (Call Center) and that it was Ram Chavez, a Pinoy Idol finalist, who sang it! Wow! So I downloaded the video and tried to look for the lyrics on the net but failed. Hmmm... I guess I just have to rely on my listening skills. The other lines were hard to understand, though. I’ll keep you posted regarding my success with the lyrics.

video

This video was taken during their mall tour at Robinson’s Place. ^^

Let the Memories Haunt Them ^^

(In which this is dedicated to all those who are guilty.)

***

I was watching the replay of American Idol Season 8 on GMA 7 last Maundy Thursday (April 9). It was the episode when Scott Macintyre was eliminated since the judges decided not to use their “one save per season”.


Kellie Pickler, a former “Idol” contestant was a guest performer at the show. Okay. I wasn’t a fan of the show. Besides, I was never able to catch it on TV even before its previous seasons because it was aired when I was having classes at school. And I always forget to watch the replays on weekends so I don’t know who’s who. But what I am trying to say, and the topic of this post is actually the song Kellie Pickler sang. It was her new single “Best Days of Your Life”. And I just love how she walked on stage with her high heels and how she performed. The song was so good that I’ve been singing it over and over since I heard it like it was the only song I know. Now I tried to download the video of Kellie singing at the “Idol” stage but I couldn’t find it on Youtube and when I tried to search for it on other websites, I couldn’t open it. I received the message saying that the video has been removed for some reasons. So I downloaded this one. It’s her performance at CMA Awards 2008. But I’m not saying that this performance was less than the one on American Idol. I just hope I was able to get the video I was really looking for.


Anyway, here it is.

video

You might want to sing along so here are the lyrics. ^^

Best Days Of Your Life

'Cause I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met 'till you were making me cry
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life

Ain't it a shame?
A shame that every time you hear my name
Brought up in a casual conversation
You can't think straight

And ain't it sad?
You can forget about what we had
Take a look at her and do you like what you see?
Or do you wish it was me

'Cause I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met to the very last night
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life

And does she know?
Know about the times you used to hold me
Wrapped me in your arms and how you told me
I'm the only one

I heard about
Yeah, someone told me once, when you were out
She went a little crazy ran her mouth about me
Ain't jealousy funny?

'Cause I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met to the very last night
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life

...with me was a fairytale love
I was head-over-heals 'till you threw away us
And it's just too bad you've, already had the best days
The best days of your life

I heard you're gonna get married
Have a nice little family
Live out my dreams with someone new
But, I've been told that a cheater
Is always a cheater
I've got my pride, and she's got you...

'Cause I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met 'till you were making me cry
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life...

Of your life
Oh, oh, yeah
You're gonna think of me
You're gonna think of me in your life
Oh, oh, yeah
It's a shame, it's a shame...



Hmmm… So true. ^^

Monday, April 13, 2009

Sharing

(In which it won’t cost a thing sharing it.)

***

My student, Eun Su and I were discussing the story about a family of sloths who shared their home (a tree) to five monkeys. Then I asked her a question about sharing.

Me: The sloths shared their home to five monkeys. How about you? What do you share with other people?

Eun Su: I share my smile.

Me: Wow! That’s great! Do other people share smiles with you as well?

Eun Su: Yes. Smiling faces.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Memento Mori


(In which I was reminded.)


***


Chilling air in a tinted box
Ninety minutes of genuine
And forced harmony. 
Vibratos
Failure falsettos
Lyrics flowing through my veins
Like blood on white from ten years ago.

Numbered thresholds
Locks and keys
And water flowing to an endless abyss
Cotton and fabric
Angled reflections
Counterpointed,
syncopated respirations
and laughter.

Wind blowing
Grungy rhythm
Brand new, senseless,
funny Q&A
False wings
Illicit finger pads
on moss green-covered epidermis
Abrupt stops
And laughter.

Abrupt stops
And laughter.

Abrupt
Stop.

Stop.

Stop.


Mar 26: 2013

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Face Value


(In which a common truth is again proved.)

***

There were two girls talking.

G1: I’ll show you a picture.

G2: Ok. Let me see it. (Looking at the photo.) A group picture, huh? Hmmm… So what about it?

G1: Look at the guy in pink. Yes. The one with the gray jacket and a pink shirt underneath. Yeah, that one! What can you say?

G2: I don’t know.

G1: I knew it. He’s not handsome, eh?

G2: No. Hmm… He’s good looking.

G1: How about the girl next to him? The one with glasses in a lighter pink blouse.

G2: So-so.

G1: They look sweet, don’t they?

G2: (Perhaps not understanding the question.) But the guy looks better.

G1: I mean, I think they are boyfriend/girlfriend. How about you?

G2: I think so. But I still insist that the guy looks better. (Looks away from the photo.) Why are you so interested? And why do you ask me as if my opinion about these two is important? Do you like the guy?

G1: (Seriously) The guy in pink…

G2: Hmm?

G1: …was my ex-boyfriend.

G2: (Startled.) Oh my god! He? The… the one you’ve been telling me about? But…

G1: Yeah…Why?

G2: Nothing. He looks kind. I mean, he doesn’t look like the one you described to me.

G1: I never told you he’s not kind. He was kind to me. I think it’s better to say that he doesn’t look like he could be that harmful, eh?

G2: Oh my god! I’m so sorry.

G1: Maybe that’s why he deleted his e-mail account. He wants to get rid of me completely. He must be ecstatic with his new girl.

G2: (Still feeling guilty for some reasons.) I am really sorry.

OMG!

(In which there is a downpour of weird and shocking things.)
***

I wasn’t able to blog about it but our dog has been sick for more than three weeks now. He refused to eat most of the time and if you’re lucky to make him find the food interesting enough to be eaten, he will just take several spoonfuls and that’s it. He even refuses to eat dog food. We took him to a vet for a checkup but we were not able to afford the laboratory tests. We bought the prescribed medicine for his fever. He used to have nasal and eye secretions. Now he has less eye secretions but he still jerks and refuses to eat. But we’re still thinking of ways to make him well. I called the Philippine Animal Welfare Society to ask if they can help us. The person I talked to said Doggie could have been suffering from Canine Distemper based from the symptoms I told her. Canine Distemper is a highly fatal disease which makes me feel really terrible. No one needs to tell me that I should do something if I still want Doggie alive.

So I entered the class with the telephone conversation still fresh in my thoughts. But I was able to get to teacher’s mood after a while. There was an instance when my student and I were talking about Korean cuisine and I mentioned a former’s student’s comment. She then fell silent and told me after a while, “There was a bad news.”

“What?”

“Your former student went to Australia, right?”

“Yes. He went there last November.”

“His cousin told me he disappeared”

I looked at her, trying to figure out what she just said. I might have looked like a deer in headlights then. Oh no! She isn’t telling about kidnap, is she? So I asked her.

“He was kidnapped? Was anyone asking for money?”

She just looked at me. I instantly understood that I might have used a new word to her so I wrote it down. She looked up for its meaning on her electronic dictionary and exclaimed “Yeah! Kidnap! Oh my god! He was kidnapped!”

And the last time she was told about this was three weeks ago. Poor boy! My last memory of him was when he sent me a gift with a letter in it thanking me for my patience and saying that he owes what he is now to me. (Awwww...)

When our class ends, I went to my room still troubled by the news I was just informed about. When my hands touched the keyboard, my fingers automatically typed the address of a familiar website and I saw something that made my heart go Crack!

OMG! Indeed!