The Adventures of the Dark-Skinned King, Episode 1

The Adventures of the Dark-Skinned King, Episode 1

The dark-skinned king just gave a nice, cute, pretty little girl a hundred bucks last night. She was of no relation to him; he just met her on the street. And as I watched through the entire spectacle (as a silent observer, of course, nothing more), I began to wonder more about the king.

When the girl first approached the king, my heart leapt to my chest. I felt that she was being too aggressive, that she was approaching the royal boy in so quick a manner. At that moment, though, she flashed her sweet smile. My heartbeat returned to normal. I decided this person was safe.

She greeted the dark-skinned king, who, as I knew all too well, did not like being surprised by strangers. The reaction I was waiting for surfaced right away. Upon seeing the smiling lass, the king stepped sideways (almost stepping on the main road itself) and gave himself considerable distance away from the girl. She wasn't deterred by this show of distrust; instead, she stepped closer. And as I knew all too well, the king was not one to shun away persistent folks. So he stopped and listened.

I had some difficulties hearing their conversation, so I was not able to pick up everything that transpired verbally. I saw everything non-verbal as clear as crystal, however. At first, I noticed that the king was just smiling at the girl with that patronizing smirk of his (I've seen him do that lots of times with the subjects long back when). I caught a little of the spiel the girl was saying beforehand, so I knew that she was asking for money in exchange for a cheap-looking pen whose only advantage over other pens was that it had a spring-back calendar attached to its innards. And judging from the smirk on the royal boy's face, he wasn't so sold on the exchange, either.

The patronizing smirk changed almost immediately. The smile became genuine-- the king was even amazed. Replaying the event over in my head, I realized that the girl had said some magic words. Those words were: "Major in Education, Specialty in Math." It must have hit the king really hard. Piecing the bits and pieces together revealed to me that the king had encountered a little girl who only wanted to finish her education and whose only way of paying for strangers' help is a cheap-looking albeit unique pen. The king, sensitive (or gullible, depending whether you're for or against the principles of his kingdom) person that he is, took pity on her and shelved out the hundred bucks for the pen. In my mind, the king was thinking: "I'm trying to show that numbers are not all that I know, but that doesn't mean that I can prevent others from knowing them." Of course, I could be wrong, but I do feel that the king was thinking exactly that.

He can be so predictable sometimes.

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A Different Kind of Person

...none of [this person's] beliefs repulsed me or pushed me away.

It's rare to find someone who has a different point-of-view as you have and yet not feel "different" towards that person. It's so rare, in fact, that I have only met one such person. Only one.

Let me put it this way. Consider someone you know who has a different ethnic background as you have, and therefore has a different set of beliefs. At some point during one of your conversations, that person says something that is contrary to your principles-- so utterly opposite, in fact, that all your heightened senses start picking up the same thing: a bloodbath is going to happen any second now. Well, maybe not a bloodbath-- a momentary heated exchange of words, perhaps, or a long-lasting cold shoulder-- just something that defines the radical change of perception you just had for that person.

That, I believe, is the natural course of things. To disassociate yourself with people who have a clearly defined set of beliefs different from yours.

With this singular, unique person, however, I found myself responding to no such natural urge. Whatever this person's beliefs were, none of them ever repulsed me or pushed me away. Of course, I was saddened by this difference, by this discrepancy, but none of what I felt would change things, anyway. In the end, this person's personality had already won me over; the affinity was already established even before the fateful words were said.

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All That Which Adds to Mass

Finally, something that beats calling fastfood hotlines.

These past few days, I have been worrying about the expansion of my midsection. My appetite has truly grown ever since I've entered Actuarial. Much of it can be attributed to the food-loving culture the department has, but somewhere deep inside my tummy, a small voice says that I'm just getting hungrier. Which is not bad in itself, but as I've said, I'm just worried at the rate at which my dreams of getting abs is fading. If this goes on, I'll be like Jeland in no time. (Just kidding, Jel.)

Since we are on the subject of my increasing appetite, we might as well talk about food. Right now, Jel and I have succumbed to the simplicity of fastfood delivery services. We've been having our dinner delivered right to our boarding house doorstep. Our personal favorite is Jollibee, since we prefer its ChickenJoy to McDonald's Chicken McDo, and besides, a stomach-filling rice-chicken combo is all that you can ever hope to have delivered to your home. Our preference changed, however, when we learned about McDonald's 8MCDO online delivery service.

Finally, something that beats calling fastfood hotlines. This is advantageous for us because 1) we don't have a landline phone, and going down to the first floor to use one is just time-consuming (haha, what lazy sloths); and 2) we have an amazing Internet connection that I just absolutely love. Needless to say, we used the delivery service like crazy. We ordered breakfast. We ordered dinner. We ordered lunch. Great food, great service, great over-all.

Now I just have to go back to worrying about this little tummy of mine.

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Self-Doubt

I cannot afford to be lax... I cannot afford to make mistakes.

These past few days have been really trying for me at work. As it was with every new beginning, my insecurities started kicking in once again. "What if I don't get to finish my study on time? What if I get blamed for a mistake that truly is my own? What if I don't exceed HR's and everyone else's expectations? What if I faaaaaaiiiilllll???" Of course, during these times of crises, my friends will always be there to say that everything would be OK, you've been there before, you've always managed to stay on top of the game, blah-dee-blah. (No offense, guys. I do appreciate the all-out support.) Despite this, I'm always able to find reasons why this time is different from the last; despite this, I'm always able to find reasons to whine.

For instance, I can confidently say that this time is different from last time because this time it's real work. As an MA, 40% of my time was spent on creating exciting and relevant projects; 60% was spent on trying to make myself believe that these projects were actually exciting and relevant. (This changed in the latter part of the Program, but still.) This time around, every study that I write, every number that I crunch, every recommendation that I propose will have a resonating impact throughout the entire company system. I cannot afford to become lax anymore. I cannot afford to make mistakes.

Sigh. I hope that I'll get over this, given the passage of time. Or given the passing of the first study. Right now, I'll just have to be contented with the fact that I'm the slowest study sloth who ever trodded the Actuarial department.

One bullet in one day?! Three pages in three days?! Imagine that.

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Urges and Changes

Unlike the first real shift in blog addresses, there is nothing notable about this one.

Every time I find myself realizing that I haven't blogged for a long time, I do the most sensible thing to do and start over. I don't even hesitate; I just move on and create another blog. I find no sense in trying to revive what is, frankly, a stale piece of online document. Reading past entries doesn't even help. All this does is to induce nostalgia within me. It does nothing to make we want to change the present; it just makes me want to return back to the past. (Of course, certain people will immediately comment that I can always change the present to return back to the past. You misunderstand. I meant that literally.)

Unlike the first real shift in blog addresses, there is nothing notable about this one.

Perhaps what is notable this time around is that I find no urge to post a "Book of Days" entry. Usually, after a lengthy period of blog inactivity, the very first entry I write is a summary, a book of days so to speak, describing in general the things that kept me busy during the time I didn't blog. In this manner, I get to update everyone on what has been going on in my life.

Right now, I am not feeling that urge.

I can't exactly pinpoint why, but maybe the reason is that it always felt forced to write such a summary. It doesn't feel natural. That's the closest explanation I can ever give, because I am sleepy and can't think clearly any further.

To those who realize that what I've been writing is nothing but fluff, congratulations. I was just testing the waters, so to speak, to see if my "writing skills" are still with me. Psyched! To those who realize that what I've been writing is nothing but fluff, and yet believe that I've been dead serious all along, congratulations. You're even better than I thought.

Book of Days to follow.

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Back for Good?

... the dark-skinned king has finally returned to that which he truly loves: numbers.

After days of trying to fix the brand new wreck, weeks of going against the butterfly effect, and months of self-discovery, the dark-skinned king has finally returned to that which he truly loves: numbers! Not that he will be very explicit about this love-- the title does say it all. Numbers are not all that he knows, and he is back to prove it!

And on the heels of that glaring contradiction, let me be the first to welcome you back into my kingdom. Step in, folks, and welcome to my blog.

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