Memoirs of an Amnesiac

It's a typical school day and the teacher isn't in the mood for discussing. What usually happens? She/he takes out her trusty chart and lets the student copy every word in the chart. "Ok, class, copy everything. We will have a test on this tomorrow. So pagtuon mo ha!" would be her well-meaning line. What with too many students to look after and those pressing forms that need to be submitted because of deadlines that should be meet like a marathon finish line, where is room for teaching? ...

In the spirit of Valentine's Day (that for so long I haven't celebrated), I will let you in on a set of guidelines that I have compiled based on experiences I gathered from friends, from people I look up to and my very own experiences. Now, these experiences are self-adhesive that they would seem to glide on their own that you would find it difficult to distinguish mine from the others. I don't think it would matter to you, anyway.

So here goes my top ten list.

1. They ...

I don't know what it is with music that I oftentimes crave for it in moments when I have nothing to do, but mostly when I have something to do. When I'm working on my laptop, my mother always knows that I'm in the house and working because with it is Tchaikovsky playing in the airwaves. Sundays are never complete when the house is not wafting with the oldies but goodies hits of Frank Sinatra, Elton John, Matt Monroe, and Barry Manilow while I am busily doing the week's piled up laundry (feeling ...

She finally had what she wished for --to dance and show her devotion to the Baby Jesus in the recently concluded Sinulog street dance festival. I definitely have no qualms about it as I myself am a self-professed devotee. It's just that this request of hers was sashayed with a rather clangorous intent, and marked with a lot of controversies, one of which is her adamant refusal to leave office despite her irrevocable suspension as the governor of the province.

I only have one word for ...

I have been looking at doors for the longest time I've ever remembered. They're those part of houses I greatly admire. I have one friend who likes windows. She especially likes French windows. She said she feels like a princess when she fancifully lunges into opening them, like probably Juliet, waiting for her Romeo while she's busily cleaning the blinds.

Yet nothing could ever dissuade me from liking doors. Not that I'm not a big fan of Romeo and Juliet or Rapunzel (who looked at her ...