At the end of the day, no matter how much I want to write, I could only curl up with my pillows and read myself to sleep.
BUT ANYWAY~! I'm back, and I have tales to tell.
The Exam From Hades
Let's face it. I was too overconfident. I have two glowing recommendations from former professors, a brilliant copy of my transcript of grades, proof that my thesis was granted Best Thesis Award for 2006, and a certificate stating that I graduated cum laude. Failure is not an option, because a) My requirements kicked ass, and b) I had to hope for the best because this is the first step towards my dream. I HAD to pass. I HAD to get in. And with that in mind, I knew that I WILL pass. I have to believe in that, if nothing else.
A week after I passed the requirements, I got a call from UP regarding the schedule of my entrance exam. I tried to ask what the scope of the freakin' exam would be, but they wouldn't give me a clue. I figured that since I'm applying for Comparative Literature, they'd just make me read some sort of story and have me deconstruct it into tiny little pieces using whatever theory and whatnot. It was either THAT, or they'd make me read and/or write about anything under the effin' sun. I brushed the exam off. Didn't even study for it, because I don't even know what I should study for in the first place. So I'd play things by ear. Swing it, you know? Yeah, I know. That was pretty arrogant of me. I thought I could just breeze through it. It turns out that I still have much to learn when it comes to being prepared, and when it comes to being too cocky.
I had the gall to be late on the day of the exam. Yeah, sue me. I overslept. Five minutes wasn't much, but hey, impressions matter. So there I was, panting like a dehydrated Rottweiler, staring at the room with a sheepish smile on my face. Heck, I was lucky the moderator was pretty nice, so she just gave me a smile and handed me my exam paper. When I looked at it, though, it felt as if my brain went on strike and decided to go to the Bahamas for a vacation.
1. They want me to discuss a theorist that made a significant contribution in the realms of literature/philosophy/culture, may it be postmodernism/structuralism/gender issues/modernism/feminism/ or whatever f*ckin' ism they taught us in college; to discuss what the theory is about, and to dish out a few critical terms pertaining to said theory. They want me to state its relevance and contribution to Literature, and blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda. They want me to discuss it briefly but comprehensively. In short, they want me to write about something I haven't thought of in, what, two damn years.
2. They gave me a ten-page short (yeah right) story and wanted me to dish out a /crtical analysis/ of it using any theory whatsoever.
No shit.
I was staring at my paper like a freakin' moron for fifteen minutes, because hell, it freakin' blew me off. I was laughing to myself like a lunatic. I was twirling my pen over and over until it clatters off, and I had to say 'sorry' over and over again because I kept distracting the other examinees.
It's not like I don't know anything. I mean, I want to believe that after four years of hard-ass literary college education, I could pretty much recite theory after freakin' theory, but still, the exam had me floored. I wasn't prepared for that kind of comprehensive exam. I hadn't studied, and I hadn't thought of Spivak, or De Sausurre, or Levi-Strauss, or Horkheimer for two freakin' years. Their words, I could remember. Their messages and core theories, I understood by heart. But that doesn't mean that I could effin' discuss them comprehensively in an exam! Why didn't they just ask me to explain it in front of a class? That would be way easier than trying to write in in such a structured way. I was expecting an entrance exam, not midterms or finals, dammit!
For fifteen minutes, my mind went completely blank. I couldn't think of anything, 'cept how much of an arrogant ass I was. What was I thinking, walking into an exam unprepared? It was the State University, dammit. I kept trying to remember everything I learned before, but they were so elusive. It was like trying to grab a fistful of water. Just when I thought I had it pinned, everything would slither away like coiling snakes. I couldn't concentrate, even when I skipped the first part and tried to read the short story instead. I knew how to 'critically' analyze a story or a novel better than I could dress myself for an important business meeting, but even so, I was still so shocked, that I couldn't understand a word I was reading.
I kept praying and praying, thinking that I couldn't screw this up. I was talking to God, telling Him how much of an ass I was (not that I needed to say that), but I would really, really, really appreciate it if He would help me pull this off. I knew the theories, I knew the terms... I just have to explain it well in paper.
I took a few deep breaths, and told myself that chuckling like a deranged jackal would help. Nor would trying to berate myself will. So I gathered what was left of my wits and read the damned story and 'critically analyzed' it. I used up two legal pads, back to back. The second part done, I hesitantly stared at the first part again, and felt my heart sink to my toes.
I still don't know what theory to use, which theorist to introduce.
I wanted out.
I really wanted to get a breather, so I flashed the proctor a cheeky smile and asked if I could go out for a short break. I was out of the door before she finished her sentence. I headed straight to the cafeteria, bought myself a Pork Tonkatsu Meal, and ate like it was my last meal.
My friend was an angel. Throughout the time I was being a moron, she just stood (sat) my me and constantly gave me reassurances. I dunno how she did it. She was floored, too, but she got her composure way before I did. She was so cool about it all. 'Twas a total reversal of roles, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
ANyway, in between bites of cholesterol, I sent my aunt an SMS and told her that I'm practically puking blood because of the exam. She laughed at that, and cracked a few jokes that helped loosen up my frizzled spirits. And then out of the stinkin' blue, my mama sent me a message that was probably the reason why I was able to get back to my feet and conquer that exam.
She told me that I must pass the exam. She told me that I will pass the exam. She told me to believe in God, and to believe in my dreams. She told me to believe in myself.
Mama. The very same person who used to be my worst enemy. The very same person who I thought was the sole person standing between me and my dreams. My mother.
Crap, I nearly bawled my eyes out. And my mouth was full of tonkatsu, too.
I hauled it all in, tonkatsu, rice, side dish and all, and got back to the examination room, and wrote like crazy for the next hour.
I gave them a freakin' Gayatri Spivak and her theory about the Sub-Altern, but I wouldn't go there anymore. ^^;;;
When I finished that freakin' exam, I thought I was in heaven. I couldn't believe my luck. I couldn't believe that I was able to pull that off, in spite of my moronic antics and my arrogance. I was wrong, yes, and I paid dearly for that miscalculation, but I'm ever so grateful to the people to knocked me back to my feet.
I said I am a Superhero, and people agree. But I have to say that I won't be the hero I am today, without the people who kept backing me up. There are people who kept pick me up when I fall flat on my face. There are people who'd hand their swords to me when mine would break. And there are people who'd boost me up and protect me when all of my armor falls off.
It was a hell of an exam, but I pulled through.Thanks to God, and thanks to the people He sent to help me, even when I was a complete ass.
Let's face it. I was too overconfident. I have two glowing recommendations from former professors, a brilliant copy of my transcript of grades, proof that my thesis was granted Best Thesis Award for 2006, and a certificate stating that I graduated cum laude. Failure is not an option, because a) My requirements kicked ass, and b) I had to hope for the best because this is the first step towards my dream. I HAD to pass. I HAD to get in. And with that in mind, I knew that I WILL pass. I have to believe in that, if nothing else.
A week after I passed the requirements, I got a call from UP regarding the schedule of my entrance exam. I tried to ask what the scope of the freakin' exam would be, but they wouldn't give me a clue. I figured that since I'm applying for Comparative Literature, they'd just make me read some sort of story and have me deconstruct it into tiny little pieces using whatever theory and whatnot. It was either THAT, or they'd make me read and/or write about anything under the effin' sun. I brushed the exam off. Didn't even study for it, because I don't even know what I should study for in the first place. So I'd play things by ear. Swing it, you know? Yeah, I know. That was pretty arrogant of me. I thought I could just breeze through it. It turns out that I still have much to learn when it comes to being prepared, and when it comes to being too cocky.
I had the gall to be late on the day of the exam. Yeah, sue me. I overslept. Five minutes wasn't much, but hey, impressions matter. So there I was, panting like a dehydrated Rottweiler, staring at the room with a sheepish smile on my face. Heck, I was lucky the moderator was pretty nice, so she just gave me a smile and handed me my exam paper. When I looked at it, though, it felt as if my brain went on strike and decided to go to the Bahamas for a vacation.
1. They want me to discuss a theorist that made a significant contribution in the realms of literature/philosophy/culture, may it be postmodernism/structuralism/gender issues/modernism/feminism/ or whatever f*ckin' ism they taught us in college; to discuss what the theory is about, and to dish out a few critical terms pertaining to said theory. They want me to state its relevance and contribution to Literature, and blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda. They want me to discuss it briefly but comprehensively. In short, they want me to write about something I haven't thought of in, what, two damn years.
2. They gave me a ten-page short (yeah right) story and wanted me to dish out a /crtical analysis/ of it using any theory whatsoever.
No shit.
I was staring at my paper like a freakin' moron for fifteen minutes, because hell, it freakin' blew me off. I was laughing to myself like a lunatic. I was twirling my pen over and over until it clatters off, and I had to say 'sorry' over and over again because I kept distracting the other examinees.
It's not like I don't know anything. I mean, I want to believe that after four years of hard-ass literary college education, I could pretty much recite theory after freakin' theory, but still, the exam had me floored. I wasn't prepared for that kind of comprehensive exam. I hadn't studied, and I hadn't thought of Spivak, or De Sausurre, or Levi-Strauss, or Horkheimer for two freakin' years. Their words, I could remember. Their messages and core theories, I understood by heart. But that doesn't mean that I could effin' discuss them comprehensively in an exam! Why didn't they just ask me to explain it in front of a class? That would be way easier than trying to write in in such a structured way. I was expecting an entrance exam, not midterms or finals, dammit!
For fifteen minutes, my mind went completely blank. I couldn't think of anything, 'cept how much of an arrogant ass I was. What was I thinking, walking into an exam unprepared? It was the State University, dammit. I kept trying to remember everything I learned before, but they were so elusive. It was like trying to grab a fistful of water. Just when I thought I had it pinned, everything would slither away like coiling snakes. I couldn't concentrate, even when I skipped the first part and tried to read the short story instead. I knew how to 'critically' analyze a story or a novel better than I could dress myself for an important business meeting, but even so, I was still so shocked, that I couldn't understand a word I was reading.
I kept praying and praying, thinking that I couldn't screw this up. I was talking to God, telling Him how much of an ass I was (not that I needed to say that), but I would really, really, really appreciate it if He would help me pull this off. I knew the theories, I knew the terms... I just have to explain it well in paper.
I took a few deep breaths, and told myself that chuckling like a deranged jackal would help. Nor would trying to berate myself will. So I gathered what was left of my wits and read the damned story and 'critically analyzed' it. I used up two legal pads, back to back. The second part done, I hesitantly stared at the first part again, and felt my heart sink to my toes.
I still don't know what theory to use, which theorist to introduce.
I wanted out.
I really wanted to get a breather, so I flashed the proctor a cheeky smile and asked if I could go out for a short break. I was out of the door before she finished her sentence. I headed straight to the cafeteria, bought myself a Pork Tonkatsu Meal, and ate like it was my last meal.
My friend was an angel. Throughout the time I was being a moron, she just stood (sat) my me and constantly gave me reassurances. I dunno how she did it. She was floored, too, but she got her composure way before I did. She was so cool about it all. 'Twas a total reversal of roles, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
ANyway, in between bites of cholesterol, I sent my aunt an SMS and told her that I'm practically puking blood because of the exam. She laughed at that, and cracked a few jokes that helped loosen up my frizzled spirits. And then out of the stinkin' blue, my mama sent me a message that was probably the reason why I was able to get back to my feet and conquer that exam.
She told me that I must pass the exam. She told me that I will pass the exam. She told me to believe in God, and to believe in my dreams. She told me to believe in myself.
Mama. The very same person who used to be my worst enemy. The very same person who I thought was the sole person standing between me and my dreams. My mother.
Crap, I nearly bawled my eyes out. And my mouth was full of tonkatsu, too.
I hauled it all in, tonkatsu, rice, side dish and all, and got back to the examination room, and wrote like crazy for the next hour.
I gave them a freakin' Gayatri Spivak and her theory about the Sub-Altern, but I wouldn't go there anymore. ^^;;;
When I finished that freakin' exam, I thought I was in heaven. I couldn't believe my luck. I couldn't believe that I was able to pull that off, in spite of my moronic antics and my arrogance. I was wrong, yes, and I paid dearly for that miscalculation, but I'm ever so grateful to the people to knocked me back to my feet.
I said I am a Superhero, and people agree. But I have to say that I won't be the hero I am today, without the people who kept backing me up. There are people who kept pick me up when I fall flat on my face. There are people who'd hand their swords to me when mine would break. And there are people who'd boost me up and protect me when all of my armor falls off.
It was a hell of an exam, but I pulled through.Thanks to God, and thanks to the people He sent to help me, even when I was a complete ass.
The Call
So yeah. I've put it all behind me. I fell flat on my face, learned my lesson, and stood back up.
I did my part. And now I must wait for the decision.
A week has passed, without me ever trying to think about it. I was pretty sure I'd be accepted, but it's not because I'm still an arrogant prick.
I mean, have you ever wanted something so much, that when you wish for it with all your might, it would come true?
Have you ever felt as if /something/ is calling you? Something BIG out there is trying to reach out for your soul, and you have no other choice but to heed its call?
That was what I was feeling? And it's what I still feel now.
I feel as if I was made for that uni. I feel as if I have to take up my MA there, and nowhere else. I don't even know what would happen if I actually passed... I just felt as if I /had/ to be /there/.
It's pretty much blind faith, too.
So I waited. And waited. And waited. But I couldn't wait anymore, dammit! They said they'd have the results the week after, but was there any? None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I decided to take matters into my own hands and so, two weeks after the exam, I gave the uni a call to ask if I made it.
It was a crazy call, I tell you. The coordinator couldn't get out from her seat, so this clueless guy was passing our messages back and forth. He even slipped a little and told me that no, I didn't make it, but he pretty much took it back when I practically screamed in his ear. He told me that the results weren't out yet, and could I call back on Thursday, thank you?
Gawsh, I was pretty much shaking by that time, so I just said OK, and hung up on him before he could utter another stupid word.
Afternoon found me in a board room, conducting a meeting with my clients when my cellphone rang. I excused myself and answered the call. It was from a private line, but I thought it was another client, so imagine my reaction when the caller said that she was the coordinator of English Department.
"Hello? Is this Karren?"
Like duh. "Yes, ma'am. Who is this, please?"
"Ah, Karren! This is Julie, from the English Department. You were the one who called earlier, right?"
"Uh... yeah?"
"Well, I just called to tell you that you got accepted for the Comparative Literature program," she said.
I was quiet for like, two nanoseconds before I was able to answer. "Uh... WHAT?!"
"You got accepted for the MA CL program you applied for."
"Uh... does that mean I passed?" Stupid much? Sue me. They called me in the middle of a meeting to drop a bomb like THAT, and you expect me to have my wits intact?!
"Yes, Karren. You did." She might have laughed at my stupidity, but I was beyond caring by that point. I passed, dammit!
"So, uh... When's the enrollment?"
The conversation became a bit blurry after that. All I caught was 'next week' and 'graduate school office', and 'admission', because heck, it felt as if I have a flock of blackbirds fluttering around in my stomach, and I want to shriek them all out! I managed to alienate the guard and the receptionist on my way to the board room, and when I sat back down, I think my face was so red from trying hard not to scream in elation. My clients teased me about it, and I had to blurt out that I passed, dammit, and damn. It felt good.
In hindsight, I think I wouldn't be /that/ happy if I didn't have that fumble during the exam. That I managed to get myself back up after a stupid fall made the victory worthwhile, you know? It felt as if I really conquered that exam. It felt as if I deserved that admission.
It felt so great.
I kept saying that this is the first step towards my dream, and though I don't know the why's and how's, I just know that it /is/. I don't even know what's in it for me in the uni, or if MA studies is just like my undergrad studies, but heck, I have a feeling that this is the start of my journey, you know?
And it feels good to be back on track, you know?
Not that the two years I've spent working for my mom and the family business wasn't worth it, or anything. I was against it at first, thinking that being stuck as the heiress to a family business would stop me from achieving my dream, but as days went by, I realized that I didn't have to sacrifice anything at all. No dreams would be sacrificed, no future would be compromised.
I helped my Mom achieve her dreams, and now she's helping me conquer mine.
It feels great to be back.
So yeah. I've put it all behind me. I fell flat on my face, learned my lesson, and stood back up.
I did my part. And now I must wait for the decision.
A week has passed, without me ever trying to think about it. I was pretty sure I'd be accepted, but it's not because I'm still an arrogant prick.
I mean, have you ever wanted something so much, that when you wish for it with all your might, it would come true?
Have you ever felt as if /something/ is calling you? Something BIG out there is trying to reach out for your soul, and you have no other choice but to heed its call?
That was what I was feeling? And it's what I still feel now.
I feel as if I was made for that uni. I feel as if I have to take up my MA there, and nowhere else. I don't even know what would happen if I actually passed... I just felt as if I /had/ to be /there/.
It's pretty much blind faith, too.
So I waited. And waited. And waited. But I couldn't wait anymore, dammit! They said they'd have the results the week after, but was there any? None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I decided to take matters into my own hands and so, two weeks after the exam, I gave the uni a call to ask if I made it.
It was a crazy call, I tell you. The coordinator couldn't get out from her seat, so this clueless guy was passing our messages back and forth. He even slipped a little and told me that no, I didn't make it, but he pretty much took it back when I practically screamed in his ear. He told me that the results weren't out yet, and could I call back on Thursday, thank you?
Gawsh, I was pretty much shaking by that time, so I just said OK, and hung up on him before he could utter another stupid word.
Afternoon found me in a board room, conducting a meeting with my clients when my cellphone rang. I excused myself and answered the call. It was from a private line, but I thought it was another client, so imagine my reaction when the caller said that she was the coordinator of English Department.
"Hello? Is this Karren?"
Like duh. "Yes, ma'am. Who is this, please?"
"Ah, Karren! This is Julie, from the English Department. You were the one who called earlier, right?"
"Uh... yeah?"
"Well, I just called to tell you that you got accepted for the Comparative Literature program," she said.
I was quiet for like, two nanoseconds before I was able to answer. "Uh... WHAT?!"
"You got accepted for the MA CL program you applied for."
"Uh... does that mean I passed?" Stupid much? Sue me. They called me in the middle of a meeting to drop a bomb like THAT, and you expect me to have my wits intact?!
"Yes, Karren. You did." She might have laughed at my stupidity, but I was beyond caring by that point. I passed, dammit!
"So, uh... When's the enrollment?"
The conversation became a bit blurry after that. All I caught was 'next week' and 'graduate school office', and 'admission', because heck, it felt as if I have a flock of blackbirds fluttering around in my stomach, and I want to shriek them all out! I managed to alienate the guard and the receptionist on my way to the board room, and when I sat back down, I think my face was so red from trying hard not to scream in elation. My clients teased me about it, and I had to blurt out that I passed, dammit, and damn. It felt good.
In hindsight, I think I wouldn't be /that/ happy if I didn't have that fumble during the exam. That I managed to get myself back up after a stupid fall made the victory worthwhile, you know? It felt as if I really conquered that exam. It felt as if I deserved that admission.
It felt so great.
I kept saying that this is the first step towards my dream, and though I don't know the why's and how's, I just know that it /is/. I don't even know what's in it for me in the uni, or if MA studies is just like my undergrad studies, but heck, I have a feeling that this is the start of my journey, you know?
And it feels good to be back on track, you know?
Not that the two years I've spent working for my mom and the family business wasn't worth it, or anything. I was against it at first, thinking that being stuck as the heiress to a family business would stop me from achieving my dream, but as days went by, I realized that I didn't have to sacrifice anything at all. No dreams would be sacrificed, no future would be compromised.
I helped my Mom achieve her dreams, and now she's helping me conquer mine.
It feels great to be back.
