Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts

Monday, 10 January 2011

Obfuscation


“In third place, is Mr. Dubovie.”

I can hear a pin drop. We were having classes regarding information security when someone entered, saying that he was there to award the top three merit students in our batch.

I quivered as I was standing up to get recognised by the whole class. I limped a bit as I was going out to reach for the certificate.

“Come on now, do not be shy! I am the one getting embarrassed here,” said the award giver.

Seriously, it was so sudden that words couldn’t escape my mouth at all. My vision and hearing were still blurry because of the claps and cheers I can see and hear. I can’t see Art and Tina, but somewhere amongst the crowd, it seemed that I can hear their jeers and woohoos as well.

After shaking hands, I zoomed back to my seat to prevent further discomfiture. I’m really not that great when it comes to public events, especially when I am the one being placed in the hot seat. Calling my attention is not one of my strong points, and I hate being recognised for doing something exemplary.

My face went red as my seatmate patted me coupled with a greeting of congratulations. The Filipinos at the front mouthed ‘congrats’ while waving at me. I can’t take the humiliation anymore. Haha.

After the break, as I was about to sigh and take a quick nap, someone hugged me from behind. I turned to see who it was.

With his wide smile and cute dimples, it was Art. Oh ‘twas a long time since I last saw him. I still have some questions regarding his two failed invites during the festive break.

He kept on muttering words of kudos, but my head just filtered all the sound resonating in the classroom. All I can feel were his arms as he patted me like a father congratulating his son of a job well done. My heart was still beating a bit faster a couple of seconds after he let go of me.

“Josh, libre, libre!” He chanted. Tina joined him, and it was really embarrassing. I wanted to evaporate on the spot.

Oh, and they didn’t even stop as we made our way to the common room to buy some snacks from the vendo. Gene arrived as well and warbled with those two as they continued to mortify and haunt me.

As soon as break’s over, I ushered Art and Tina to transfer beside me because there’re two vacant seats beside me.

Yawn. Lecture was getting a bit boring even though the lecturer had impeccable British accent. I was mouthing and repeating what he’s saying every now and then.

“What’s obfuscation?” Tina whispered unexpectedly.

I was wondering where the hell she got that word. I checked the lecturer’s PowerPoint, and it was there.

After checking it on my mobile, Dictionary.com finally enlightened me. It meant confused, difficult to understand.

“You’re obfuscating me,” I addressed to the both of them, while snickering. For all they know, I was trying to send mixed signals as well.

“You’re obfuscating me,” I said again, while my eyes were just on Art. He was just laughing, apparently unaware of what the hell I was trying to address. I didn’t need to worry, because it seemed that it was too subtle to be even picked up.

You are really obfuscating me. Some of my mates were already discouraging me from continuing to pursue this ‘roundabout relationship.’ The car cannot go on circles forever, you know.

That is why, I will try to convey a couple more hints starting from today. It’s now or never.
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Thursday, 28 October 2010

The Report that Pwned



This doesn’t feel right.

As Gene, Tina, Art, and I entered the classroom after a quick break, our classmates just kept on staring at the four of us.

It was the second half of the Managerial Communication group reports. The four of us were among the first ones who presented. I thought it was just a normal reporting day, but I just realised that it was more than that.

Before we went for the break, a lot of my classmates circled around me.

“Hey, you sound like a lecturer… Excellent,” said one black guy.

“Wow, you were really good. You will be a good manager someday,” said another Indian girl.

I really am confused. I just did the report the normal way I would’ve done back home. I might get a C+ back in college based on my performance a while ago. But here, a distinction can be probable, based on my classmates’ comments.

“You Filipinos sound really assertive. Your friend’s English is excellent!” a classmate said to Art.

Now I understand. Since Filipinos were taught in English ever since kindergarten, we naturally have the grasp of the language unlike other nationalities It became more prominent as Gene reported with her pure American accent, while I did mine with a British American accent.

Only Art and Tina reported with their very thick promdi accents. Nakakahiya.

Yeah, I know, I am so mean.
----

It was the second half of reporting, and it was Akhal’s group turn to report.

See, in our class full of Africans and Indians, there’s not much good-looking blokes to choose from, really. But the Turkish are another thing. Especially him.

I’ve been eyeing him ever since class started. With his rugged look, short David Archuleta-ish hair, matangos na nose, and bluish grey eyes, and his excellent taste for fashion, he is an item.

Not to mention his intellectual ability’s fairly high after he answered a very hard accounting question on the board one time.

The way he spoke in his report was outstanding for an Eastern European. He has a good command of the language. His voice was crystal clear and soothing to one’s ear. It really got me hooked up.

I can say that he’s my class crush. Now, if only he were gay as well.

As if.

----

“Where are we going again?” I asked Art.

We had just alighted at Embankment Station. It was already half 5.

“Let’s just go to Starbucks first. Your work starts at 6, yeah?” he said.

“But…“ I don’t really have the time and money to have another cup of coffee.

“Come on, just accompany me… Please?” Damn it… if it weren’t for his unusual infectious smile, I wouldn’t have given in.
-----


“Here’s your Caramel Macchiato, mate.” Art gave me the tall cup I ordered.

I was reading the front page of the Evening Standard today. Another Tube strike coming soon. Oh great.

“Finally, the reports are over,” Art exclaimed. “I hope we get to pwn our other classmates who do nothing but blabber.”

“Of course, we pwned them. Did you notice the way they looked at us after the break? They can’t believe that we have The Voices.” Well, normally, since they are the ones who recite frequently, we just let them be keeping our mouths shut. That’s why it’s practically the first time our classmates heard us speak.

“Haha. But well, you and Gene were the best ones, I think. Your accent was wicked, but you still shift to the American one from time to time. Hahaha!” I think I blushed a bit when he said that.

“You’re not bad as well,” I said half-heartedly. Well, I am partly lying since Art reported with a very strong promdi accent…. A slight major turn off for a Manilenyo like me.

“Yeah, if only Hoang didn’t take too long on the introduction, I would’ve spoken a bit more,” he said. Thank God his groupmate went over the time. I am such a bad arse.

“Oh, it’s nearly 6, I have to go Art,” I said, as I packed my stuff. “How much is the Macchiato?”

“Oh, no worries… my treat for today, for a job well done.” He smirked again.

“Eh, no need to. Cmon how much?” I was careful not to push him too much, since he might really let me pay for the drink.

“No no Josh, just think of it as an apology for last week,” he winked.

I was kind of speechless once again. Why does my mouth fail me whenever I am with Art?

“Go, Josh, your manager might kill you!” He’s already at the entrance door.

“Fine fine wait up!”

So, he treated me. There isn’t any meaning aside from the fact that he is really liable for the treachery last week… right?

My mind is saying one thing, but my heart is saying another thing.

I am really weak when it comes to sweet petty things such as these.

I think I am having a serious crush on him. Tsk.