Patty (woodycakes) wrote,

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Bouncing off the Back Seat

Before anything else, go ahead and do this for me. Consider it a belated birthday gift. Everyone's done it, and since I've just touched the computer now, I'm late (again).

But today, I have to put this down before I forget it.

As I've said before, I don't like the second semester. My subjects are crappy, my grades are shit, and my teachers aren't making things better for me. Still, there are those few bright moments that make my second semester a little more bearable.

Like STS (Science Technology and Society), for example. It's a subject usually taken by seniors, but because CRS decided to mess with me and not give me ANY of the MST (Math, Science and Technology?) subjects I originally signed up for, I land in a class that is summed up by groupworks, which I just love hate.

I must clear that my professor in this subject is not hot. Not even close to my PE teacher who has wowed me again this morning with the amount of weight he effortlessly lifts. Yet, this STS professor amazes me every meeting. He knows so much. Everytime he butts in to whichever group is reporting, he says so much. Sure, I'm not listening half the time, but I make it a point to look at him and pretend I'm listening.

Another thing about STS is other than groupworks (bleh), it's a HUGE class. It's a class of almost 100 or even more and the only way I'm going to pass it, is if I get extremeley high test scores. This is impossible. Thus, at the beginning of class, I made sure that my professor would know me. Of course, there are only two ways (in my mind at least) that would guarantee my professor knows me.

First, you must recite. This I can't do either. Considering I'm NOT a Science major, nor do I even like science, I can't exactly contribute anything remotely substantial to the lesson without embarrassing myself. Thus, I must resort to pretending I listen.

But not just any type of pretending, looking ahead. I make sure my professor sees me listening. How do I do this? Well, I just nod along and try finishing his sentences, to myself as if we were both thinking of the same concept, when really we weren't. I've just heard the discussion over and over that I can actually predict the ending of sentences. Much like songs, or cliche lines, STS discussions are pretty much the same.

Mouthing words like research and development or social, politicial and economic implications gives him the impression that I'm actually thinking about the lesson, when really I'm just good at prediction.

I have to say though, this takes a lot of effort. Usually, our professor sits in the back and I'd have to swivel my head around (it hurts too) just to show him that I am remotely interested in discussion.

After class, in the event that I'm still there, I give him a nod in appreciation for the hour and a half of blabbing he had done. Maybe just maybe, he'll realize that I do show effort in his class, and I might get a decent grade, despite my dismal test scores.

After that loooooong introduction, I can finally go to the actual reason I am blabbing...

Today, after class, I find myself alone in the street corner, waiting for a TOKI to come. I just want to go home. Before I know it, my professor's car, stops right there and a window rolls down and out comes his un-pretty head. He asks me where I'm off too, and I know I'm supposed to say Mass Comm but I know he's headed towards AS for his next class, so instead I say AS.


Because the fangirl in me knows I have a slight crush on this teacher. It's all about the brain. This guy is soooo extremeley intelligent, I can't help but get turned on by all the knowledge he's consumed. At least I know that in his free time, he doesn't just stare at himself in the mirror (god forbid), and instead, writes papers, watches the Discovery Channel, and reads all those nice informative hard bound books that I wouldn't even touch.

As student-teacher forbidden relationship as this sounds, I have to reiterate that it's SO NOT LIKE THAT. I wasn't alone in the car with him. I was with Jerry, his assistant, who I think is on the gay side and I was trapped in the backseat beside a baby car seat and I have barely any space to move.

Usually, I'm freaked out around older guys or any guy in general, but I felt strangely comfortable in his car. Maybe it's the teddy-bear vibe I get around him. Or the general father-figure sentiment I feel about him. Or maybe because he looks like a decent, non-killer/rapist person.

Of course, I was sort of giddy and I have to admit there was a tinge of kilig running through my veins, but how could I not? If I liked him more than I actually did, I would have died. And I thought he only spoke a lot in class, he apparently speaks a lot -- in general. He wouldn't stop talking. And it wasn't the kind of talk just to fill dead air, but the kind that comes out of a normally talkative person. I should know.

He asked me where I lived (in a non-stalker way, and then went on to tell me how he owned condominums in the area that I lived and the he rented them out. And he goes on to share that though he lives within campus, he only rides around in a car because he's got a crappy schedule (like mine) where all the subjects are pasted so tightly next to each other that he doesn't have time to breathe.

I actually manage to ask him something, in between his gasps for air. So I decide to ask him about the baby. There should be one, since I'm crammed next to the car seat (yes, the one Britney forgot to put her baby in because the paparrazzi was hounding her). Then he launches into an entire monologue of how his baby is the cutest thing on earth and how he's seven months old blah blah blah.

Before I know it, we're already in the CAL parking lot and the ride is over (disappointed). He gets out of the car and I can't get out. The car door won't open. PANIC settles in and I'm already thinking that maybe I was so naive to actually get into the car. He might actually really want to abduct me, torture and then kill me. I try my best to unlock the door, and I just can't work it. Oh no.

Then, my professor opens the door from the outside and laughs at the panic-stricken look on my face. The door is child-locked as to prevent the seven month old Chandra from miraculously reaching out of his car seat and opening the door as they speed through EDSA (uh huh).

So there I am looking all uncomfortable as I walk next to him towards AS (where I am supposedly headed) and he still doesn't stop talking. After showing me a picture of his adorable baby (looks nothing like him), I realize that my professor still doesn't know my name. I don't mind really. The fact that I've just shared an entire car ride with him is probably enough to ingrain me in his mind come grading time.

I'm not expecting an uno (1), but after sharing his life story with me, I would hope that my professor would cut me some slack.

I still can't believe it happened. The little crush I have on him grew a little bit, and my cheeks are still flushed. I just can't believe that it happened. Sure, it's no Atom experience, but it was enough to make my day a little more exciting than its usual blandness.

What a way to start the weekend.
Tags: college freshman, grades, guilty crushes, meme
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