Kitty Litter

General Grievous gets personal. 

Here's the link, if you want more: http://www.winterson.com.nyud.net:8090/2005/06/episode-iii-backstroke-of-west.html 

Oooh.  

Someone explain this to me! 

Got this off another blog (will link when I find the bookmark, sorry!) The translations...I want my own copy!!! 

Harry Potter Personality Quiz

by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

I am beginning to prefer working at home and staying home to going out. Nowadays, I only go out when the Polar Bearball is with me, because he wards off persistent streetkids, thieves, molesters, ghosts (seriously), and other pests.

Last Thursday (and don't think I haven't noticed either that I write only when pissed nowadays), I had to commute to Makati. I was cold, wet, tired, and miserable at the end of it all, and I have no idea how my students (the nice ones; the bad ones deserve it on a daily basis) can do this everyday. Kady comes from Laguna, and others come from Paranaque. I can't even imagine the waiting, the traffic, etc. See my icon, the fat snoozing cat? That is my current ambition: be rich enough to lie around and be comfortable and well-fed. Sigh.

I took the MRT for the first time in years. Banzai Cat has a hilarious story in his August 16 post that inspired this one. (While you're there, scroll down and see the funny "cat hoovering" post as well, heh heh) I was standing up in the crowded train, (Cue piteous violin music here) repressing the urge to retch that I get lately when I'm tired. My only consolation was my odd sense of balance; I do not topple over easily in the MRT (must be gravity). My shirt was soaked through with sweat, and my new umbrella had broken halfway to the station. When a big guy stood up and his seat became vacant, I was about to move towards it when this bitch moved her legs diagonally to cover the space.

Boy, was I tempted to sit on her. She looked to be 100 pounds, tops, and since I'm easily the square of her weight (just kidding) I figured that if I sat on her until the end of the line, she'd suffocate. Too bad I wasn't feeling combative, because the cab I got in had this ass of a driver who had this conversation with me:

"Ilang taon ka na?"

"30," I said.

"Papayat ka na! Grabe mukha kang baboy."

He shut up quickly when I said it was a hormonal imbalance that made me fat, and I went into loving detail about thyroid problems. and all the way to my destination I bugged him with details of my medical exams, the cost of a thyroid operation, and so on. I even showed him my ultrasound with the myoma on it encircled in red, and I whined about the cost of the operations I needed. When he asked why I was on the road, I summoned my best wretched expression, and looked into his eyes.

"Kailangan ko po kumita kasi wala na po akong magulang na nagaalaga sa akin."

You can guarantee that I didn't give him a tip.

Okay, so I lied. But he deserved it.

As soon as I reached Glorietta, I bought myself some hot chocolate--it really does cure many ills--and texted Polar Bearball a plaintive message: "I'm wet, tired, and miserable. Please call me."

And he did. Sitting in the cool cafe after a lousy journey, hot chocolate in front of me, the voice of someone who loved me on the phone and didn't think I was being silly...these are the underrated creature comforts.

(Hey guys, I would appreciate any comments/additional tips as to pet peeves with text messaging. Next column ko ito eh. ^_^ Thanks!)

We take text messaging for granted, until something happens to make us rethink things. When I fell ill recently, I received this message from a student: “Mum bkit kau m skit uli no klas uli y cnt u jst nt get sik?”

Of course I was offended; who wouldn’t be? I’ve since discovered that too many people have no idea of basic manners, let alone text message manners. So here are a few major pointers for text etiquette for all text message users out there.

1. Always use the language the recipient prefers. I, for one, dislike receiving messages in Filipino from my English students, and not because I’m some imperialist; I just want them to practice their English. I often use Filipino to text my friends, as straight English intimidates some of them. When in doubt, use the language you’re most familiar with.

2. Find out whether your recipient doesn’t mind abbreviations. Abbreviations are not standard; I abbreviate “please” as “pls”, but some people use “ps” and it’s very confusing. When texting a superior, a client, or a teacher, it’s best to play safe and not use abbreviations.

3. Don’t ring the recipient’s phone just to check whether it’s on! I hate it when my phone rings, I scramble to answer it, then the jerk on the other end hangs up. The message this behavior conveys is that you, the “missed caller,” are more important than the person who “receives” your missed call. Unless the person on the other end is a parent or friend who allows you to ring his or her phone so that s/he can call you, doing missed calls just to attract attention is rude, crude, and vile.

4. Don’t send a single message 1, 10, 100 times should the recipient fail to answer within 10 seconds. Again, this works on the whole “I-am-more-important-than-you” principle. There is no excuse for this behavior; not even your boss has the right to do this. If Jesus Himself only called on His disciples once or twice, who are you to assume you’re more important?

5. Don’t append this to your messages, especially if the recipient is not someone close to you: “Pls dnt ignore dis/Txtbak!” It’s a surefire way to guarantee that you WON’T be answered. As I said earlier, who are you anyway? Why should you assume you’re so important that the recipient should drop everything just to respond to you? Unless you’re a parent with woolyheaded offspring, you really should not insult your recipient this way.

6. Watch your word choice. I cannot stress this enough. You have every right to text your best friend, “Gaga! ;p hay naku loka ka tlga” just to be cute or funny. But you have no right to send this to a teacher or to a boss: “I gonna b absnt 2day wag na mkulit masama pkramdam ko” Choose your words to suit the recipient and the occasion; “T@ngna mo mery Xmas!” is only acceptable among good friends, and if you don’t know why, then perhaps you have no friends?

7. Think before you pass. In an era where text messaging is, on the average, one buck per message, you’d think people would think before they forward anything. I am amused when, after classes are officially canceled in UP, my students know about it via text within seconds. That kind of information is useful and helpful. But coup rumors, “bomb threats,” unverified “news” of disasters such as plane crashes or fires, bogus earthquake “warnings,” and “Pass this on to get P 100 load,” are messages best left to rot, mainly because they only demonstrate how stupid the sender is. Unless you can verify it, don’t pass it on! Passing on unverified “information” is not showing concern; it’s just ego—you want to score a scoop on your friends by being the “first” to “know” about a bomb threat, plane crash, coup, etc. If you really want to make a difference in other people’s lives, forwarding a text message is like perfuming yourself to prevent world hunger; it’s pointless! Go out and work for charity or teach street children …just do something REAL that takes genuine commitment, not a click on a phone.

8. Don’t beg for “load” from people you don’t know! Ugh. I’ve had one or two really stupid students ask me for “load,” promising to pay up next week, next month, next lifetime. Asking Mom is not a problem; asking your churchmouse-poor professor is inconsiderate.

9. If you like making text pals, stop when the recipient says, “No.” It keeps you from looking like a loser, for one. Don’t flood people who refuse with missed calls or nasty/sexually threatening messages if they ignore you or refuse to be your text mate. Get a life and grow up, for crying out loud, then make real friends. Besides, the NTC can cut your number and track you down; is it worth it?

The cellphone is a tool for communication, and like all other mediums of communication, we should remember that the medium should never get in the way of basic manners. Everyone deserves to be treated politely (until they prove unworthy of polite treatment, but that’s another story) whether by text, e-mail, snail mail, or during face-to-face relations. Otherwise, we have no right to say we’re good people.

A warning: Ever gotten messages which claim you have won a new Nokia phone? Been asked to “verify” your bank account number by depositing/transfering money into ANOTHER account? Been asked for “load” to “prove” eligibility? If someone claims you’ve won something, and it’s a normal 11 digit cellphone number instead of those 3-5 digit service numbers, it’s a scam! Ignore them, and report them to the NTC or to the DTI; they have website forms for this purpose. When in doubt, call your provider’s hotline to verify things: (all numbers toll free from your cellphone) for Globe, it’s 211; for Smart, it’s *888; and for Sun, it’s 200.

(Note to the reader: FLAME ON. As in. You have been warned.)

Don't get me wrong; I have a lot of magnificent, wonderful people for students. But my health problems started this sem after I began handling freshmen...particularly English 10 (which, for older UP people, used to be Comm 2, except now they don't have to write the term paper. Lucky sods)

It's like the majority of these kids are obsessed with themselves. When I got sick, one of them had the nerve to ask me via text, "mam kc lagi kau me skit u shld take cr of urslf pra d kme mis clas" So much for sympathy.

Another asswipe failed to submit homework early in July, and so I flunked him. Relenting after Bambi Torrecampo's speech about giving students their rights, I gave him a week to prepare an oral report, maximum 5 minutes, on a topic of his choice...the choices all having been readings distributed weeks ago. Idiot texts me at the last moment, asking, "bkit aq choose topic u gv me 1 nlng" Benefit of the doubt: moron with no idea of textiquette, so I told him to choose from the list. He then claims I gave him too little time to prepare. Then on the day of the report--on which a critique is due, one whose deadline I moved back one week out of mercy for the feebleminded--he absents himself and texts, "Cn I sbmit my critic aftr clas?"

Nettled, I replied, "No; who do you think you are to ask for all this consideration that you don't deserve?"

His response? "Nvr mind." He absents himself, skips the report Tuesday. Then when he shows up Friday, I talk to the rest of the class, and tell him and his fellow delinquents to clear all their deficiencies via e-mail on Sunday. Nothing arrives from Moron. (Bear in mind that all this occurs while I am very ill)

Next Tuesday, with patience at a record low, I ask him to submit his work. He pretends to scrounge around in his bag. Nothing. I then advise all delinquents (3 or more missed submissions) to drop my class.

Moron submits a piece of homework ONE MONTH LATE on Thursday. When I point this out to him, he claims he got the wrong e-mail address. I tell him it's on the syllabus, and he lies by claiming he doesn't have a copy. According to my records, he was present when I gave the syllabus out. My e-mail response was:

"Even though you don't deserve it, here's a piece of advice. Grow up and learn to take responsibility for your own failures...or get out of UP. We have no room for delinquents here, especially since there are people who dream of college and work towards it, but still can't study." His response? "Ok I will drop na nga."

Just today, I open my mail. There is a gigantic forwarded mess of photos from another idiot, with the tag line, "Funny! Pass it on!" I reply, "I'm not your friend. Do not clog up my inbox with this crap."

Patience level: piano wire holding up 20 anvils.

Another student passed on that tired idiotic hoax about the little girl with cancer who wants you to pass her mail around the world. I wonder: does anyone listen to me at all in class? I already taught them about critical thinking and about why chain e-mail is evidence of non-use of critical thinking. I'm gonna ask her to drop, as she clearly has never heard a thing I've said.

Yet another girl insists on using her religious (won't name the denomination) magazine as reference for EVERYTHING. One magazine answers all: premarital sex, rock music and the endocrine system, enzyme research. Her bottom line? If you're not in her religion, you are an idiot.

This takes the cake; let's call him DingDong. "How can you BLOW ur Virginity to 1-5 minutes of PLEASURE that is called SEX? Don't you know it is like when you put your P*NIS to your partner it is like using it to STAB the WOUNDS of CHRIST on the cross? So have a THINK before you use your PENIS as you can get PREGNANT."

I wish I could say I was making that up. But I can't.

Is it any wonder I'm tired, angry, sick, weak, and stressed out? And if you think I'm the only one annoyed with them, ask Haydee, who took over while I was gone. While she tried to lecture on critical thinking, three morons in the back decided to blahblahblah. Luckily Haydee (you go girl!) is mataray, and told them off thus: "Hey (bozo), I listened to your (dumb) report earlier. Aren't you gonna listen to me?"

My friend Maoi also lectured to the same class, and warned me that there were too many bad people there.

I don't know what to think anymore. I'm tempted to just ask them to submit their papers and then just flunk them all. Screw teacher ethics; do these jackasses deserve it? I'm smarter than I was ten years ago. My readings are better. I lecture better, and I have more resources than I did when I started in 1994. So how come my 1994 students, without exception, in Comm 2, turned in better papers and knew how to think for themselves?

Shouldn't I be devoting my time to the better kids? The little tykes in English I who are trying oh-so-hard to pass my class?

And a small voice inside me says, "You have to try." Yeah well fuck you, small voice. Save for three or four girls, no one cares in that class, listens, or makes an effort to understand what I say. Why should I?

If someone can give me a good reason, I'd appreciate it. I'm running out of reasons. I. Give. Up.