Chopstick

It was morning and, for some weird reason, our classes were held in a different room. It was kind of weird, although the cushioned seats were a plus, the classroom was different enough that I wasn’t able to concentrate on the first few minutes of our first morning lecture. But I finally got into the swing of things and nearing 9am, I got slightly hungry and, from my bag, dug out the sandwich I made this morning.

I was seated waaaaaay in the back, near the center of the classroom, and since the seats were arranged with the following row higher than the one in front (from the blackboard) in quite a steep manner, I was kind of content with the knowledge that the prof wouldn’t really notice me.

So there I was, inconspicuously taking small bites of my sandwich so as not to be noticed. Right after my dainty (for me) second bite, the prof suddenly met my eyes and spoke out, “Ano yan?” I quickly lowered my sandwich and stared at him, wondering if he meant my food. But as far as I know, hindi bawal kumain sa classroom and he never cared before if we ate in his class or not.

The prof continues, “Ngayon lang ako nakakita niyan.” I stare at him blankly while chewing madly so that I can swallow my bite at once. And besides, people were beginning to look. “Yang nasa ulo mo? Ano yan? Antenna?” and every single head in the classroom turns to back, trying to look who the heck the prof was talking to/about. “Huuuuuh?” I finally say, using my tongue to shove my biteful to the side of my mouth while at the same time quickly hiding my sandwich.

“Ano yan, ha?” he says in a louder voice (as if he needed to raise his voice since he was on the freaking microphone). Chew, chew, chew. He asks, "Antenna ba yan?" I shake my head. “Sir, chopstick po,” I mumble, mortified. My friends beside me were quietly laughing their asses off.

“Mahina ba signal diyan?” queries the prof, “kaya ka ba naka-ganyan?” I melt into my seat and swallow painfully, hoping to God that the prof and the entire class didn’t notice that I was eating a made-from-home sandwich. And hoping to God that people would stop looking back so they can look at me.

“Ano nga yan?” he asks again. “Chopstick,” I say, louder, praying that he’ll just stop. “Tignan mo kasi,” the prof says conversationally to those seated on front, gesturing towards me so that they might take a look at the pointy stick stuck in my head. They dutifully look back at me. Again. “Ang weird noh? Hindi pa talaga ako nakaka-kita ng ganyan. Para saan ba yan?” “Sir, chopstick lang siya!” I say loudly, unsure if he can hear me waaaaay in front or not. “Alam mo yung antenna? Yung bago magkaroon ng cable?” he asks those in front, “parang ganun eh.” “Oh my God, can he just stop?” I mumble to my friends, embarrassed.

Heck, it’s not every single day that the entire class (of about 80-90 people) crane their heads this way and that just trying to see what the stupid professor is pointing at in your head. I felt so conspicuous. And I'm the type who usually puts my chopstick (single; I rarely put in 2) in a straight manner and not twisted to the side because I feel I do more damage if it were on the side (i.e. hitting things as I turn my head) so I can imagine how I look like: sitting there, looking around, with a brown stick sticking out the middle top of my head.

Then, in the afternoon, we had physical diagnosis ward work and we headed off to our preceptor to do the whole demo on abdominal examination. First, my prof notices my ultra-pink stethoscope. That’s fine. People always notice it and I like it my steths enough that I actually get flattered when people notice it. Then he notices my hair. That is not fine.

“Ano yan?” he says. It’s a good thing there are only 4 of us girls in his clinic and 3 of us use chopsticks on occasion, although I was the only one wearing mine today. “Sir, chopstick po,” I answer, hoping he’ll just drop it and inwardly thinking: dear God, not again.
PROF: Gutom ka ba? Pang-kain mo ba yan?
ME: Of course not! Sir!
PROF: Ngayon lang ako naka-kita niyan ah.
ME: (looks at my classmates) Er… sir, madaming may ganito.
PROF: (calls to the doctor inside the clinic with him) Tignan mo. May chopstick siya sa ulo oh. Naka-kita ka na ba ng ganito dati? [insert name here], picturan mo nga.
ME: (shocked) sir!
PROF: Diba may camera ka sa phone? Bilis, paki-picturan mo nga ito. May chopstick sa ulo eh. Sige na, bilis!
ME: (hiding behind my classmate) Sir! Wag nga!

Suffice it to say… I’m probably never wearing this chopstick again. Or, rather, I’ll wait a while before wearing it again.

What is it with profs and hair styles anyway? Waaaay back in June or July, I was quietly sitting in my seat with my hair neatly fixed in two braids and it was our first time to be taught by our Microbiology prof. Anyway, this prof was fond of walking around the classroom with the cordless mic for recitation and then she walks along the aisle, catches sight of me and says, “eto, si Pocahontas, tanong natin.” And I was extra mortified then since I only knew a handful of my classmates and more than three-fourths of the class was still a stranger to me.

Bakit ba ako nadadamay sa buhok? So I get bored with the normal ponytail and letting my hair flow free isn’t exactly practical. So I fix it up. Its neat, it keeps my hair out of my face, its not a fussy must-brush-every-5-minutes ‘do, so why must I be brought to public attention? To think my hairstyles now are ‘normal’ as compared to time I went to school in college in dread locks – that lasted about 2 days and I think I did it twice. I shudder to think how my professors would react with that hairstyle on my head!

Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire

It is official. I am a MASSIVE and possibly one of the BIGGEST fans around. I seem to be the only one sitting on teetherhooks, breathlessly awaiting the arrival of Nov 16 and the next installment of the Harry Potter movie franchise. Am I the only one panicking because I fear that I might not be able to watch it on the first showing of the first day? Am I the only one who thinks about the fourth movie every single night before sleeping? Am I the only one who plots to steal the posters and cardboard thingiemajigs in malls all over? I foresee that I won't be able to sleep the night of the 15th. I doubt I'd be able to concentrate during my classes that day.

Oh. My Gosh. 9 more days. 9 more days until I see the movie based on my favorite Harry Potter book. How can I live? More importantly, how can my friends live with me? LOL