Friday, April 11, 2014

Advansss Bee-o 2.0. - Guess Who You Are!

This is the second installment of Advansss Bee-o, a novel inspired by the advanced biology class I took in high school. Mind you, this was also written before I even began studying in the U.S., so pardon any grammatical mistakes. 

Advansss Bee-o 2.0


Why am I taking this class again?

Let me remind myself again,
(Looks to the right)
It’s because he’s here!
Damn it!

If only he would succumb to
my dark eyes,
busty decolletage,
and killer curves.

The Manual

If only he’d notice
my new perfume,
my new hair do,
and my new brain.

If only he knew
I had a heart that beats faster
and a pair of legs that wobble
each time he moves near.

If only he:
feels the same way.
would give us a try.
loves me from head to toe.

If only I were Wendy the Witch
in Casper and Wendy.
Then it would all be tolerable!


What the hell is Mrs. Cursor talking about?
I mean I get mitosis, meiosis and all that junk.
But I can’t wait to get to all the fun stuff!
I have persevered much too long, woman!

I could have learnt more about human reproduction
from a porn site
than from listening to your
hourly banter on dividing cells and genetics.

I don’t really care about all these abnormalities,
I don’t want to become a doctor nor a vet.
So let’s just get on with it!

I have so many questions,
none of which have anything to do with epistasis or hypostasis,
but most of which deals with vital things such as
positioning for optimum pleasure.

I could already feel heat running all over my extremities.
I guess, the good thing about studying genetics
is that I won’t explode in the middle of it.


The sun has never been this glorious. As I take a seat on the grainy sand, I could feel them crawling into my shorts! This is getting quite uncomfortable, however I am still enjoying it. I can’t believe I get to go to the beach at this time of year. As I’ve said before, the sun is at its prime, the waves are mild but wild and the breeze is just perfect. Just before I could lay down and get a tan, I remember to put on my SPF50. Another thing, I set my alarm for an hour to make sure that I will get my complexion at just the perfect shade. Wouldn’t want to get sunburnt, now do we?
            Sliding my body on top of the beach towel my mother gave me, I open the novella that I’ve brought along onto the last chapter that I read. You see, I have to reread the last chapter that I read to refresh my memory! Now, where were we? Ah! Yes, the heroine is being dragged into the woods by a chivalrous vampire. They jump through the lush forests only to find a field. This is so getting good!


            I wish I were a character in a novella. Wouldn’t it be lovely if I were the protagonist in a forbidden love story? Actually, I don’t even need to be the main character, a supporting character will do. I’d be a friend to whom the heroine could lean on or the cool older brother to whom the hero looks up to for advice. There should be like a device where people could play out their favorite characters on film. Wait! Actually, I guess Comic-Con does let you dress up and be who ever you wanna be. What am I going to wear to Comic-Con this year?
            5 more minutes!

“Elmo! Hey...” Rosario whispers, nudging him as she does so.
            “Five more minutes...” he groans.
            “Mr. Enid! Mr. Enid!” Mrs. Cursor shouts at her student only to be replied by a yawn. Now she’s had enough, “ELMO ENID!”.
            “Yes... yeah...?” he awakes to an a bomb filled with estrogen and other lady hormones. “Oh man, I’m sorry Mrs. Cursor! Totally sorry!”.
            “Go wash your face young man!” she instructs, if he hadn’t gotten good grades all through last semester he would have been kicked out by now.
            Elmo scurries to the men’s room.
            “All right class, let us go back to the board... so,” Mrs. Cursor continues with the subject.


Ba... ba... black sheep...
You don’t need to start counting sheep to fall asleep in this class.
To be honest, it’s not boring at all but you have to understand, anything other than the subject dictates that this laboratory is the perfect site to rest.
No, not to rest for eternity, I’m afraid that they’ll discover my body and decide to either open it up to see what’s inside or to preserve it for later use. And I do not want to spend the rest of eternity in the biology laboratory of a Catholic school, thank you very much!
This laboratory is perfect for a midnight hideaway or a midday nap.
I think they can’t steal the happiness that is exuded from this very special room, not as long as the AC keeps blowing air at 16 °C and the mice are still alive.

21 seconds later

I’m not usually this nosy but what the hell is Summer writing on her notebook?
She knows better than doodle in Mrs. Cursor’s class especially after Elmo’s sleep talking incident two minutes ago.
Poor Elmo! If only he had Bert to remind him not to sleep in class.

A minute later

Hmm... hearts!
Hearts, that’s what she’s doodling on the recycled line paper that I just lent her.
There once was a study conducted by a university on drawing hearts. They had large groups of teenage girls sit in classrooms for hours and determined that the ones who excessively drew hearts were in fact pregnant. If memory serves me right, it has something to do with the hormone levels being off.
But I highly doubt that Summer is pregnant. I mean who would knock her up? The janitor?
Since the great incident of Junior Ball, where she was rumored to have gotten so drunk that she gave the whole male student body a striptease, no boy has really been brave enough to take her out on a proper date.
There are no words to express how interesting it would be if Summer had managed to bear a child without a species of the opposite sex to supply her with sperm.
On the other hand, my hypothesis could be completely flawed, the hearts could mean a desire for love or l’amour to enter her life. Just like the majority female population of her age, she has a tendency to flirt with boys i.e. flip her hair, bat her eyelashes and smack her lips together to accentuate its plumpness.
            You cannot imagine how foolish girls get in front of eligible men. I, in contrast, tend to get a stronger pull towards those who are taken. I am aware that it does not conform to social norms, but who said I am the kind of person who fits the box that is labeled NORMAL?
            For example,
1.                              I wear some sort of head piece every Thursday just because it only suits me that day, even it means a metal bowl originally bought for my dog Roofie
2.                             I listen to old music on this old neon pink cassette player
3.                             I always go barefoot whenever I can
4.                             I obsess over fascinating social norms such as flirting, dumping and nose picking
5.                              I bring night vision goggles only when the sun is shining
(I am aware that these attributes can’t necessarily be categorized as social norms but it can explain why my mother call me “her special little who-knows-what”)



Is it really necessary to talk about Elmo’s problems?
I mean you’ve got your own problem, I’ve got mine and he’s got his.
God only knows how many hours a person spends upon thinking about others.
I don’t worry about this, about that, I worry about where I’m at academic-wise, social-wise and health-wise.
Can we all just resume back to genetics, I really can’t concentrate if they’re all talking.

Don’t get me wrong, I never wanted to be allergic to loudness. Believe it or not, I was born this way. Yes, a child with a strange but intolerable defect. Basically I can’t stand loud sounds whether it is music, conversations, or atmospheric sounds such as subways or car honks. I hate them, I am susceptible to them, I can’t tolerate them. And that is why I struggle to find classes that would be “safe” for me to be in, such as this one. However, now and then we do get screams and hysterical laughter mostly from Jelly. But I surely can survive. You are a survivor! Come on!
         My main issue with loudness and extreme volume is how distracting it could be. I hate loud cheers especially whenever I’m dribbling the ball, ready to jump and shoot. Ironically, I always score whenever I shoot while the crowds are being loud. I guess what I hate about it is that I can’t really concentrate and be in the zone when loudness surrounds me. Am I in deep trouble?

As you can probably see, ninety minutes could have never gone faster for some and slower for others that today’s Advanced Bio class. As usual, everyone was on check for their sanity. Even though most of them were literally sharing the oxygen in the laboratory they knew all too well, most of them had mentally ventured off to a foreign land, a land where they only had themselves to talk to. Basically, a land where they (Casper) could explode without worry or a space where Elmo could lay in the sun thinking about nothing but the sun.
         Unfortunately or fortunately, life isn’t that static. There’s always a grain of sand to climb, and another spoon full of sugar to swallow.

*All photos were supplied by the author

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