My eyes are red and puffy. I just cried over a video - a recent Janet Jackson interview. I know, who cries over interviews? But trust me, if you're a true fan of Michael Jackson, you won't be able to help being emotional over his death (for the umpteenth time). Watch it here:

Full Show: Janet Jackson In the Spotlight

For some time now, I've avoided material related to his death, because...well, because I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to just embrace the fandom and take delight in his music, everything he gave the world. Hearing Janet say Mike was her closest sibling and that they had a ton of laughs just brings me back to reality.

He's dead. Every sentence said about him now uses verbs in the past tense. And I have to get over that. I will get over it, eventually. Time heals all wounds, as the saying goes.

Now about my day, it was...interesting. Very. Ever studied in a school with strict rules yet wild students? Uhuh. In our school, nobody really cares about "regulations". Crackheads fight, smart-asses swear loudly, and nearly everyone brings cellphones and cameras (which aren't allowed). Make no mistake, people in our school have a lot of pride and know when to limit themselves. ;]

But vandalism? Everyone does that. C'mon. What's so bad about drawing a smiley face on your desk? :> But sometimes things get...uncivilized. Our Science teacher discovered a curious table: written all over it was Eileen's name, and whoever vandalized must hold a huge grudge against her, because he/she wrote that Eileen was a prostitute. Many times.

We saw the scribbles months ago but never reported them. Eileen didn't care. But this afternoon, we were threatened by a teacher - one of those who have more power - and told us to check our handbooks. Turns out, vandalism is a major offense.

On the first warning, the student will either be suspended, given a failing conduct grade, or receive probation. OUCH :| We were all strung-up because no one would admit to the crime (we had our suspects, of course) and we'd all be punished. In the end, the teacher gave us a chance and agreed to let us fix the problem ourselves. On Monday, we'll be bringing sandpaper and cleaning materials to scrub off every drop of ink.

I expect fresh, new writing on the tables the week after next.