I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT.

     I used to think that I knew what that statement meant, but lately i’m not very sure.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got  a dictionary and I know what haughty means, it just isn’t the word that I thought I would be associated with.  Haughty.  I’ve never been called haughty before, and like some people it never occured to me that I was haughty.  All I know is that I have a great view of the class from where I vegetate at the back, and that I have no idea what my professor is saying most of the time.  Somewhere in the course of my pacifist existence, I managed to be a haughty student.  I’m stressing the word not to be annoyingly redundant, nor is it a poor attempt of aliteration, it’s just me trying to get used to it.

     I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT.

     Wow.  It’s not something that people are particulary proud to say about themselves, but when it gets drilled into your head twice a week you get this weird, mushy, almost masochistic kind of sensation.  I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT.  Strange as it may seem, you actually grow to like it.  It’s timbres and tones sort of roll like sugar in your head, coating it with some sort of poetic sentiment.  Repeat it a couple of times and you actually get a kick out of saying it (especially after you’ve been saying for so long that it starts to lose it’s meaning and you end up sounding like a gorilla in heat).

     I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT.

     It’s really not that bad, at least not as bad as some might think.  Of course in my case, my omnipotent professor never said it out loud, (hey, I wasn’t a naughty and frustrating student, that honor belongs to somebody else) she kind of implied it in such a way that everyone knew it was me.   At first I thought it was Jesus hanging around in our classroom, preaching in a Visayan-Chinese accent (no offense to the Chinese and Visayans), mumbling something that I couldn’t comprehend but somehow had to do with us being the bane of this College’s existence.  But when I pulled myself off from Arthur C. Clarke I recognized her as another omniscient being of a different classification.  My professor, floating around the platform in her floral dress, shooting 500 words a minute.

     I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT

     I’m writing that down because I wrote it before every paragraph, and I like to see it in Bold, Italics, and Underlined.  It looks like it’s shouting, screaming out of the page and into your thoughts, kind of like me when I listen to her and have zero understanding.  Sometimes when my seatmate translates or when she drops a warp to match our lagging speed I pick up bits and peices of what she’s saying.  Her lectures actually makes sense, and so does some of the sermons.  We have absolutely no problem of relating with it especially since it’s mostly about us and how we make this College worse.  I like swear on the million dollars that I don’t have, had it been physically possible, she would have pushed all of us into the flamming abyss of hell.  I think she believes that the only thing keeping us from crossing that crucial milimeter and forever falling into damnation is her priceless lectures.

     I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT

     The thing is, I’m not writing this because I hate her or anything.  Hate is such a strong word, even if  it does come from the a haughty student like me.  I’m writing this because she has been annoying to the point of amusement and that I would like to share this enlightening experience before the semester draws to a close.  There is always room for you in her class this coming semester, and I happily bequeth thee my precious seat (guess where!).   Thou shalt learn the myth of the Science students, the one that the old rector has wrongly seeded in the students and faculty’s (university wide, from the publishing house to the Eng’g bldg.) brains.  And remember: we are Science students, the lobotomized rats in white.  We are generally indifferent, rocous, and no matter how much we all fool the other teachers and students, we are unmanegable.  Live by this golden rule, nod if she says it to your face, and make her think that you agree.  She’ll eventually tire and just rapture like a bloated pimple. (Eech!)

     I AM A HAUGHTY STUDENT

     The funny thing is, i’m actually going to miss being the haughty student in class.  It’s certainly not everyday that a self-righteous teacher takes time off from herself to convert  us natives from the potential messengers of satan that threatens to spawn evil, into a more docile, tranquil, perfect, and equally self-righteous being that she is.  What touches me is that through the sea of stoic faces, she has selected me to be a haughty student.  A few parting words: Science students, discipline-wise, faculty-wise, and as intellectuals (haha), is the best there is.  If she tries to say otherwise, shut up in your seat and wait for the next elected haughty student to get provoked (chances are, she will, and soon) and cough up another essay.  If , by any chance, it turns out to be you, then another piece of advice: don’t say anything, let the annoying students do the talking.  Besides, with an average of 350-500 irritating words per minute, who could geta word edgewise.
 

 This is dedicated to my professor, who has posed the challenging question of why we Science students are terribly indifferent, undisciplined, lax, (and most importantly) noisy, despite the rumor that we are perfect.  After being ranked underneath Eng’g, Commerce, and the premiere model: her family, we, as a class (oh alright,just  me in my dreams) have taken on a spiritual journey within ourselves to come up with an answer: we owe it all to you Miss, we owe it all to you...