Ace who?

Lest anyone start thinking I prefer form over substance, I am seriously contemplating dumping Ace, especially after last night's mediocre performance (a far cry from Mario Vasquez's rendition of Do I Do last year). And jeez, he still dresses like a high school boy even with the stylists' help. Plus he's in serious need of a hair cut.

Now, Taylor-- THAT was a performance. It gave me goosebumps on my goosebumps, and it was thrilling to see how the audience went wild over him. His chances are looking pretty damn good. Even my mom, who has never been a fan of his gray hair and epileptic moves, had to concede that he was the best number of the night.

My dad has joined our betting pool because he now hates Chicken Little Covais and his newfound arrogant attitude. I feel the same way, but I still put my money on Melissa getting the boot. Arrogance-- unjustified as it is-- I can stand (hey, it's me), but lack of preparation and composure I can't forgive (more on this later). As far as I can remember, no finalist has ever flubbed his/her lyrics so blatantly. I felt mortified for her. Now let's see if she wins me a thousand bucks (my mom, for some inexplicable reason, is betting that Elliot gets eliminated-- sure, he was kinda bad by his usual standards, but he wasn't awful either).

* * *

I have been invited by Sir Mike Tan of Ateneo's JGSOM (I still shudder at the "JG" part; thank goodness my diploma is pre-JG) to be a panelist for his Operations Management classes' final defenses this Saturday. SOM juniors be warned: I will take no prisoners. Abi texted me last night to tell me to "take it easy on them, they were born in 1985, what do they know?" Well hell, they should know enough to deserve being called Ateneans. And like I said, I can't pardon lack of preparation. If they can't put on a decent defense, then by golly my claws are coming out.