Confessions Of A Rock N' Roll Idiot

I'm wide awake tonight because I can't get over the fact that I made a total fool out of myself in front of the Dean of the School of Management this afternoon.


As a contestant and representative of ACTM for this year's Unilever Bizbattles, a business plan competition held in line with this year's SOM week, I was tasked to create a 3-year strategic plan for an upstart herbal shampoo company. Obviously, shampoos are the least of my worries, because I practically have no hair. Aside from that, our group was given only 3-5 days to prepare for the competition. That would've been fine, being the crammer that I am, but my group got together only two days before the presentation. Apparently, none of us were knowledgeable on shampoos.

The result - a boring, dull and lifeless presentation that saw me unleashing a million stutters. I "uhmmed" and "ahmmed" like a dumb blonde as I fumbled through the points on my slides, reading the text word-for-word. I felt naked in front of a horde of mockers as the panelists broke every point we made. And I refused to make eye contact with Dean Ang, who was staring at us with a look of utter sarcasm. It was clear that our presentation was stupid and pointless from the moment I started speaking - the judges were staring far out into the windows, the audience members shifting in and out of the room, and our rivals mocking and laughing at every slide.

After a half-hour of punchline-free points and broken english, I left the room, too embarrassed to watch the other business orgs trump their well-thought out business plans. I knew one thing for sure as I made for the smokers' pocket garden (and yes, I had to break my pledge just this once) - Unilever Philippines will not be considering my resume' within the next 10 years.

Of course, there's the usual "Okay lang yan" and "Di naman sablay" remarks that I got from my orgmates who watched the presentation. Yet for someone who's used to getting straight-As (sorry, no intention of bragging) in class, those aren't enough. Call me a perfectionist, call me a tight ass, but sorry, i'm just not used to losing. I hate it. It's not part of my normal rhythm. Being great in class is about the only talent that I have, and such mishaps deal a big blow to my ego.

Yet one thing is clear: no matter how good you've done in the past, no matter how many As you got for your papers, it takes only one blunder, one mistake to erase them from your head. No matter how talented or skilled you are, you could still fail miserably.

I worry not as much about sucking, but I'm more worried about those looks of sarcasm and mockery from other people. I'm worried that they know I'm vulnerable; that I can commit mistakes, that I'm no different from them. I'm worried that deep inside their minds, they must be thinking how I'm such a jackass.

I could offer myself a thousand excuses for why I screwed up today, but the embarrassment still remains - I didn't deliver when I was expected too. And I hate it. I just hate being mediocre.

Sadly though, mediocrity has always been my story:

* The smart kid who could've graduated valedictorian, yet succumbed to Starcraft.

* The fat ass who could get a whole lot more chicks if only he weighed 40 pounds less.

* The writer who could have churned out a lot of interesting stuff, if only he weren't struck with the fear of writing.

* The music addict who has everything - souped-up guitars, elaborate music sheets, a thick pile of CDs, yet until now, knows no other song to play except "wonderwall".

* That chain smoker who's repeatedly promised to quit, yet still falls under the spell of that white, cancer-triggering, lung-burning stick.

In short, the guy who's fallen short of expectations; the kid who didn't live up to the hype.

I'm not sure if I could ever rid of that label. And today, it seems that that stupid reputation will be hanging around longer than I expected it to.