sabi nila (yes, plural!) mabait daw ako. i really don’t know what they mean, but if i want them to continue believing it, i’ll have to keep them from meeting people who knew me back in college. like quennie’s friendster testimonial implies, i was the taray queen back then. whereas it would normally take an average of 5 minutes for a GeneSoc neophyte to get a member to sign his tickler (those tiny notebooks where you keep proof of whom you’ve reported to), with me it would last a minimum of half an hour of quizzing about genetic principles, social aptitudes, general philosophy or whatever other topics i could think of (i was particularly fond of seing them sweat trying to think why stamps are placed on the upper right corner of an envelope). unsatisfactory answers would equate long hours of research in the library or several signed pages ripped off the tickler. those who fail to report would dread meeting me at the finals in anticipation of the verbal assault they would get. yes, bad girl, i know.

but that was then. back when i was still a rioting-hormones-driven teenager. back when my temperament was explosive and unpredictable (well, actually, it still is, but it did get attenuated over the years). back when i had so much surplus energy i could tackle everyone and everything i disagree with. back when all i had to think of and fend for is myself. ah… those were the days!

i have to admit, i’m still opinionated, i’m still mataray. but now, i often keep my opinions to myself and make conscious effort to keep my bitchiness under control. yes, there are things (and people) that annoy me. but now i choose my battles. if nobody stands to gain anything good from it, i don’t waste a single breath or bother lifting a finger. why get into an argument with people who can’t reciprocate (or in other cases, retaliate?)? in other words, dead-ma, pasok sa isang tenga, labas sa kabila, ma at pa! i also choose my opponents. if there’s a fly in my soup, i won’t argue with the waiter; i’d complain staight to the manager (well, that doesn’t work here in germany when often, the waiter is the manager, hehe). likewise, when i questioned the inequity of the starting salaries of research assistants at IRRI, i addressed my letter directly to the director general and just furnished the HRD manager and my direct supervisor a copy.

you see, if AnP believes in the maxim “tell me who your friends are and i’ll tell you who you are”, my one goes “tell me who your enemies are and i’ll tell you who you are”.

so, mabait? nah, just plain dead-ma. you’ve got to be one big important guy to rile up my feathers. otherwise, buzz off, i’ve got a kid and a household to take care of.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 23rd, 2004 at and is filed under my € 0,02. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.