No Hear-y, Oh Dearie

I'm on a blog roll right now, and I have no intention of stopping. There's value, methinks, in writing a little everyday. That way, I can keep my writing skills well-oiled. And I won't feel too unproductive. I should organize my posts better, if they are to become real literary exercises. Maybe write on something specific per session, and then pay attention to the elements of style and organization. But bah that. This is a blog, for goodness' sake. No thinking. No structuing. Just writing.

* * *

I won't take too long with this post, because I have another daily project awaiting me - that of doing research for my very own television concept. The research stage is fantabulous. I have been diving into Buffy Season Six, and I am enjoying every single minute of it. The episode "Once More With Feeling" was pure genius. I like it even a little more than I like "Hush." Ah, Buffy.

That said, I guess I should jump right in and talk about what I had planned to talk about - my "disability."

I have mild hearing loss affecting both my ears. To aid me with my hearing, I have to wear in-the-ear (ITE) hearing aids. The hearing loss isn't that severe or debilitating. I have trouble with high pitches (think: the first few notes of a standard Nokia alarm), and I could use help with the clarity of speech or volume. But aside from that, I am fine. I can function without the hearing aids, and I will not start panicking if their batteries run out when I don't expect it. That said, I do try to wear the aids as much as possible, because they're supposed to stimulate auditory nerves that would not otherwise be stimulated, with the end result being a possible beterment of my hearing capabilities.

To add to this mild hearing loss, I also have a very prominent tendency of blocking out reality and spacing out - especially when I am sleepy or thinking about something else. The first time I noticed this tendency was back in Grade School. I was working on a sewing project during that sewing class, and I remember having to ask Ms. Zafra about what stitch I needed to be doing. But in my head, I was singing "the more we get together, together, together, together; the more we get together, the happier are we." I walked up to her, and instead of asking her to demonstrate the basket stitch, as I had intended to, I ended up asking her, "the more the merrier, right?"

This has happened several times since then. In the Oxford semi-finals, for example, the other team gave me a point of information, and I answered yes (with feelings too) when I should have said no because I thought he had phrased the question differently. While I was very much in the moment then, I was also thinking of how I was going to phrase my next argument in the most convincing way. Here, in the law school, when my friend and I were working on outlines for our final exam, I misinterpreted an encounter that my friend had with this random guy. I made up a story in my head to explain their conversation. In this case, when she told me about the story, my mind was still on the outline I was working on.

The combination of the mild hearing loss and my daydreaming tendencies can lead to potentially disastrous results. There's nothing I can do about the hearing loss, but there is something I can do about the daydreaming tendencies. But then again, there's nothing I can do about those tendencies too, because those are a function of who I am - when I concentrate on something, I focus to the exclusion of everything else, and when I am sleepy, then my brain just shuts down, and I then become ill-equipped for meaningful social interaction.

I guess I should just focus more and be in the moment more. Or if I can't do that, I should tell my friends about my tendencies to save them from insult.

* * *

Speaking of my hearing loss, I remember an incident when two people got annoyed with me when I kept asking them to repeat themselves. Instead of answering me properly, therefore, they got back to me with sarcastic responses that I myself got annoyed at. I wasn't trying to be stupid - I just couldn't hear or, more accurately, understand what they were saying. One was mumbling very, very softly. Also, we were walking and not facing each other, so I couldn't figure out what was being said by looking at the lip movement. Ah, well. I thought about making a big deal about this, but I threw that idea away. My style is to combat sarcasm with even more sarcasm (I am the queen of sarcasm.), and match every witty statement with one even wittier, and I'm not going to change that just because I can't do it in a particular context.

* * *

That's enough writing for tonight. Have other thoughts, but will dump them quickly in the journal that is for my eyes only. And then it's back to my research work for the evening.

* * *

P.S. I am ROFL at the title I picked for this post.

1L, 2L, 3L

Today marks the beginning of the fifth week of my last year in law school. It's about time, therefore, that I say a little about my experiences as a 3L, and as a law student more generally, so far. There's a saying for American law schools that goes something like this:

"First year, they scare you to death.
Second year, they work you to death.
Third year, they bore you to death."

I never expected to be saying this, but for the most part, I find this saying to be true.

In my 1L year, I was overwhelmed by the suggestions that everyone had about studying the law. Brief all the cases you read, they said. Read them very carefully. And then before the final exams, be sure to outline.

Now I didn't know that many people in my first year, as my de facto policy during the first two months of law school was to keep to myself and not to talk to anyone, except for professors. Don't ask me why that became my de facto policy; I'm still wondering about that myself. The point is that I wasn't able to ask anyone for advice, at least for the first few crucial weeks. In any case, I ended up working like a madwoman during my first year. It wasn't even efficient work, mind you. It was all busy work (i.e. briefing the cases and taking notes on the reading) that prepared me very minimally for the final exams that determined 100% of my grade. In any event, I did okay during the finals. But seriously, all my studying for each final exam took place at most 48 hours before the exam. That's when I finally figured out what an outline was, and that's when I got my act together. I really have to credit both my luck and memory skills where the exams were concerned. I'm grinning as I write this, because I think I escaped by the skin of my teeth there. Whew.

Second year, I was a bit more efficient. I vowed not to brief cases anymore (and I still don't, up to this time) and not to take too-detailed-notes on the readings. That cut my study time by 2/3. And that was a good thing, really, because the first semester of second year, was the busiest semester of my life, ever. I had to fix up articles (i.e. the text, citations, etc.) for my journal, I threw myself into on-campus interviews, and later on, I was flying from state to state doing callback interviews. Now I generally like traveling and do consider myself to be a pretty seasoned traveler, having traveled to five out of the seven continents of the world. But traveling every week is exhausting, and the exhiliration that comes from being in a new place gets old very quickly. The exhaustion of the 2L year culminated in me cancelling two callback interviews in New York. Everything was in place - my flight tickets, my schedule, and the cab appointment - but I just couldn't do it. I had already gotten an offer from my top choice, and I just did not have the heart to put myself through another gruelling experience. Besides, I reasoned, I did not want to waste anyone's time. I was at the end of my rope, and I decided not to jump, and I haven't regretted that decision since.

And here we are, back to the present. I have been in school for one month now, and I am hopelessly bored to death. I am so bored. I have had some busy days, but right now, at this moment, I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with. I guess if I were really a good student, I'd spend the time reviewing my notes and reflecting on the tax treatment of devalued property. But I'm not the good student that I once was. I was a risk-averse student before who always put in more effort than necessary to ensure that I'd get the results I want. Right now, I am more risk-friendly, and I am playing the game of getting the best results with the least effort possible. It's a game I could win, definitely. I think I have mastered the art of speed-reading, and I don't feel the slightest inclination for reverting to my 1L routine of case-briefing and note-taking. No way in the hey. I don't learn by typing. I think I'd be better of doing something else later in the semester. And I don't feel guilty for taking this position at all. Not one bit. I am a 3L who is exploring other things. And in this, my last year as a student, my studies will not get in the way of me doing the things I want and taking care of the stuff that matters.

Amen.

Go Ateneo! Go Irish! One Big Fight!

I spent yesterday afternoon at the Notre Dame stadium for the Notre Dame v. Michigan State football game. It was the second home game of Notre Dame, but it was the first one that I caught because I was in Chicago for the first one. While I would have rather sat down during some parts of the game (the second half, specifically), I did find the game to be interesting. The Irish scored their first offensive touchdown of the season, and the performances from both marching bands were pretty good. I was disappointed that there were no airplanes, though, while the "The Star-Spangled Banner" was being performed. That's okay. There'll probably be exciting stuff like that during the other home games. Last year, they had parachuters land in the Notre Dame stadium. I think that was the game against Army. That was a mega-treat to behold.

I'm excited for the other home games now, even though Notre Dame still has 0 wins after four games. From all accounts, it seems that this is the first time that the Irish are doing this badly. Oh well. Other things aside from the football match make the game days fun. There are the yummy brats, the yummy hamburgers, the cute tumblers for my Diet Coke, and the marching band. I'm good to go for all the other home games. I will be taking the MPRE (Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam), which is a component of the bar exam, on the morning of the Navy game, but I hear that the exam finishes at noon, so I will have no problem watching the game after.

I still don't completely understand football, but I like watching it now. Go Irish! Win something. But even if you don't, I will be in the 100,000+-person stadium, munching on my brat and gulping down Diet Coke.

* * *

I had a moment of true panic yesterday: I was cheering for Notre Dame when I realized that I was wearing a green shirt and waving a white towel. I was, like, oh my gosh, I am wearing La Salle colors. Eeek!!! I calmed down though when I saw that our football team was attired in blue, white, and gold. Except for the gold, those are still Ateneo colors. And with the gold, those are Assumption colors, the plaid skirt notwithstanding. So whew.

Call me silly, but I don't think I can wear green anymore at a sporting event. It's just too ... off. That said, I'm glad that I haven't gotten The Shirt yet. Every year, Notre Dame comes up with The Shirt, which is what every fan should wear to the game day, just so people are all wearing the same thing. Two years ago, the shirt was yellow. Last year, it was dark blue, and this year, it was dark green. I've been planning for a while to get The Shirt because I got a season pass this year, but for some reason, I have never gotten around to it. That's a good thing! After yesterday's experience, I think what I'm going to do is get a # 7 blue jersey. I feel a special affiliation with Jimmy Clausen, just because I have read and heard so much about him. That way, I can cheer for the Irish while wearing Ateneo colors.

That's a good idea. Now it's off to the bookstore at some point for my football jersey.

* * *

The Ateneo-La Salle rivalry got featured in the N.Y. Times. Click here to see the article.

The article gives a lot of detail, and it does a good job of putting the rivalry into context. But I think the obvious bias towards Ateneo lessens its credibility a bit. Take this line, for example, "La Salle’s players have a menacing swagger, with tattoos, headbands, shaved heads and chin-strap beards." That's not true. Some of La Salle's players do look like that, but others definitely don't. Take J.V. Casio, for example, or T.Y. Tang. These two are my favorite La Salle players because they both play clean and they're just really good. T.Y., my brother's friend from Xavier, is a really nice guy too. And also, does Eric Salamat's last name, meaning thank you in Filipino, really contribute to the squeaky-clean image of the team? I'm from Ateneo and I'm a Blue Eagle fan, but that line had me snorting Diet Coke through my nose. Honestly. Let's not be ridiculous now.

I'm curious about the writer of this artcile, Raphael Bartholomew. I don't think he was in Ateneo when I was there, which was from 2000 to 2004. I'm also looking forward to his book about Philippine basketball. If this article is any indication, it should be a pretty interesting read.

In any case, I hope Ateneo wins the title this year. Oh please, oh please, oh please! I am behind the team 100% from the middle of nowhere that is South Bend, Indiana. Go Ateneo! One Big Fight!

* * *

My friend and I got into a friendly argument about whether the term "differently abled" has any merit. For those who don't know, "differently abled" is the supposed politically correct term for "disabled." I stand behind that term completely.

The problem with "disabled" is how it equates the possession of ability to those who were born with normal body parts and who could use those parts in the conventional way. And if for one reason or another, your body does not function the way it should, then you're labeled as disabled. I don't agree with that. As I pointed out to my friend, a man who is born without arms can still grasp utensils with his foot and eat with it or even draw with it. He could still get from point A to point B by using his arms to pull his body along, even if he can't walk. The man does have ability, albeit not in the normal sense. The fact that the handicapped do things differently does not mean that they are disabled. They're just differently abled, that's all.

The term "disabled" is inherently demeaning, I think. Why do people have to be measured according to the ability of most people? And if they can't meet that standard, why are they automatically disabled? I can't shoot like Michael Jordan can. Does that mean I'm disabled?

It's not like me to rise to the defense of a supposedly politically correct label. I generally feel that political correctness is a concept that we are all better of without. But something about this term strikes a chord with me. The term disabled goes to a person's body and how he relates to the world, as we can only relate to the world through our body, however that is shaped or formed. The label then is entirely inaccurate and insulting to someone's personhood. It is for this same reason that I consider other supposedly politically correct terms like "vertically challenged" or "horizontally challenged" to be entirely unneccessary and even a tad ludicrous.

If you were following the argument I've been making, then you'd understand the logic of that statement. If you don't understand it, then let's talk. And if you don't care, then have a good evening.

Mega-Fantastic Slayer Deal

I'm back!

My grand writing dreams are once again featuring prominently in my life, and so I am once again going back to this blog as a tool to improve my writing prowess and to get me happily along on the very ambitious path to literary success. Let's talk a little bit about what I want to talk about, shall we?

I got a mega-fantastic deal today at the mall. SB and I went to the mall today to run some errands, and I found myself in the music/DVD store. I almost had a heart attack when I saw their sale special - up to 50% for DVDs of TV series. And the DVDs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer were there! (Cue for Handel's Allelluia here). They didn't have Season 2 or Season 4, so that was a bummer. But they did have Seasons 1, 3, 5, 6, and 7, and each one was going for $20 a pop. I got Seasons 3, 5, 6, and 7, because SB said she'd be handing over Season 1 to me after the year ends. I'm just lacking Seasons 2 and 4 at this point. That's okay, though, because I have Season 2 at home (in Manila), and I can get Season 4 at some other place. Wow, that was a steal! I'm feeling really pleased with myself right now. I don't have a DVD collection here - I have just two, actually, one of them a gift - so I'm excited because I feel that I'm starting a collection right now.

And it's an honor to start it with BtVS. Joss Wheddon is my idol. And when the lights go down and law classes end, I go around Notre Dame and stake vampires.

* * *

SB and I were attacked by vicious flying insects today. We were walking home from the law school, when random flying creatures started heading right at us, one of them nesting in my hair, one of them perching on my hand, and one of them even resting at my neck. My goodness! When we looked to the ground, we saw millions of those same red insects there. I felt like a giant lightbulb that all of those moths congregated around. I got really grossed out by the moth that went to my hair, so I calmed myself down by opening my Federal Income Taxation statute book and plopping it on my head for the rest of the way home. But of course, I took it off when I caught sight of guys.

* * *

I almost fell today. I was too shocked to screech, as I normally would, and I caught myselfbefore I went crashing down. The reason? I was wearing sandals, and my right foot slipped off from the sandal base to the ground. It was so ridiculous. It had none of the dignity of my first Notre Dame fall - that which happened when I was rushing to get to an 8 AM class. But it was a good laugh anyway.

* * *

I'd write more, but my battery is dying, and I have to make a call before I sleep. I'll leave you with this post. And with this piece of advice: if you are running on reserve battery power, then you better finish what you're doing before the screen goes blank.

The Sure Thing

Surprisingly, I find myself with a free hour right now, and so decided that I'd post. It's not that surprising really, considering that, if I'd gotten up at 9 AM instead of at noon, I'd have four hours to myself instead of just one. But oh well. Sleep is one of those wonderful luxuries of life that I am oh-so-fond of indulging in, and it doesn't make sense for me to deprive me of it as the dreaded F-word is still a whopping three months away. And so let the random thoughts spill out.

* * *

I think I have found my favorite love story-movie ever - "The Sure Thing," starring John Cusack and Daphne Zuniga. It was released in 1985, three years after I was born, but I first watched it some days ago. It is the BEST love story ever. Or at least in the romantic comedy genre. The screenplay is so witty, and the story is just so real and utterly believe-able. It's a must-see and now, a must-have too.

See, that's my problem with most romantic comedies or romances, generally - their unbelieve-ability. You know, the usual boy and girl meet each other and within twenty-four hours of meeting, either boy or girl or both is or are convinced that they've found the One. That's nice and all and very entertaining to watch too. But those plots have never at all seemed real to me. Take this later John Cusack movie, "Serendipity." Now that was an entertaining enough movie, but I found it entirely fantastical. And even if something like that did happen to me, I'd not choose to take the course that Kate Beckinsale did - ditching her musician-boyfriend and going all the way over to New York to reconnect with this random guy.

Call me skeptical, but I really don't believe love stories happen that way.

* * *

Speaking of screenplays, I'm excited for this screenwriting talk that two of my friends and I are attending on Friday. Here's a brief description of the event:

"South Bend native Larry Karaszewski (1408, Man on the Moon, Ed Wood), ND grad ('77) Jim Jennewein (The Flintstones, Richie Rich), and FTT alum ('95) Stephen Susco (The Grudge, Red) will show clips of their work and talk about the art of screenwriting at the event which kicks off at 7:30 pm."

I'm so excited about the talk. Screenwriting is one of those mysterious things that I'd like to know more about. I know next to nothing about it right now, but I do know that it's one of those things I'd like to explore some day. Be the next Joss Wheddon or something. That would be cool.

I actually tried to audit a screenwriting class this fall. That didn't work out though because the class was full and the law school didn't want to credit for me it, if ever, as it was an undergraduate class. I found that pretty disappointing, but I got over myself quickly - I looked back at my credits and realized it wouldn't have worked out. Next semester is a different story. But even that doesn't look that promising, as most of the writing classes at the Film, Television, and Theatre Department have prerequisites. Dang.

Oh well. I think I'm getting ahead of myself again. I have to remind myself that I have both a judge and jury trial three weekends from now. And that this screenwriting dream can wait.

* * *

This Saturday is the Notre Dame-Michigan State game. I'm looking forward to watching my first live game of the year (I was in Chicago for the first home game), but I'm not really expecting to have a good time at the game. If the last three games are any indication, Michigan State is going to kill us. And that kind of sucks because my only joy in football games is to see touchdowns. I don't think we'll be seeing any of those, at least from ND's side, this Saturday.

It's really funny, kind of, that the football season is getting this dismal so quickly. Over the summer, I was really excited about football because ND got Jimmy Clauson, the top high school recruit. I wanted to know who the starting quarterback was going to be, and I was looking forward to watching the games. But yeah, that got old quickly when we started losing in all these amazing ways.

That said, I guess it's no surprise that I have once again turned my attention to the Ateneo-La Salle UAAP rivalry. Ateneo goes up against La Salle this Thursday at 4 PM Manila time to secure the second spot and the twice-to-beat advantage. I am so jealous of all my friends back home because they get to watch this game, and I don't. The last game, my three siblings watched the game live, my friend who was visiting back home caught the game on TV (I think), and, when I talked to him, my friend in Shanghai was making plans to watch the game in my other friend's house and to bring chili too. And I was relegated to not hearing anything about the game until some kind soul posted a video of the last few minutes of the game on YouTube.

I'm grinning now because I'm remembering those days when I was part of the noisy blue crowd at Araneta. Those were awesome days. Getting tickets, especially to Ateneo-La Salle games, was the most difficult thing on earth, but I was lucky enough to watch a good number of those games, including the 2002 championship game.

I can hear the Blue Babble's drumming in my ears right now. And in three days, the Notre Dame Marching Band will be all over campus. I love college sports.

* * *

I am being completely and unapologetically obsessive-compulsive again, but I want to come up with a schedule for my life. Like Mondays would be for Skyping, Tuesdays would be for fixing up my poems, Wednesdays would be for e-mailing ... Stuff like that.

I am a true Libra. I strive for balance all the time. And by the way, I am also a dog.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

I don't why the title of my post is as it is. I guess that may have something to do with the "Jesus of Suburbia" music video that is stuck in my head right now, given that I first watched it just a few hours ago. Or that may also have something to do with how I feel overall sucky right now. Or maybe it just has to do with how this is September, and that's one song right there with September in the title. Ay, whatever. That's enough speculating about the blog post title.

A lot has happened since the time I last posted, and in true-me fashion, I will allude to those happenings only sparingly, and I will be sure to keep the details sparse. But I guess sharing some of the more general details can't hurt.

I spent my summer in Chicago, right in the heart of it. This was definitely a nice change from the South Bend of two summers ago - which was necessary and a learning experience in and of itself, I realize that - but which was definitely not too much fun. I had a fantastic time at a fantastic firm, and it was great to finally get a paycheck again after a little less than a whole school year of not having any income. Chicago was also fun because I reconnected with my high school buddy M which paved the way for us to have adventures together. Fun stuff. I'll be going back to Chicago for sure after graduation and working at the same firm. They offered, and I accepted, and that's that. I'm really grateful at how that whole thing played out.

It's nice to have something to look forward to after graduation and, more, to like what comes after my last year in school ever.

* * *

I have to say that it feels a little weird to be back in school again. Don't get me wrong - in some ways, I am glad to be back in ND because my ND friends are here. We have different things going for each of us this year, and I'm sure it's going to be a fun last year, if only because South Bend has a movie theater that shows up-to-date movies and also because their company is enough to make otherwise mundane days fun. But in other ways, I feel impatient about being here - after having lived in Chicago for the summer, where you don't need a car and where there are cabs 24/7 (if it's 2 AM and you need a cab, just go to the John Hancock center or the nearest hotel; if it's the weekends though or Friday night, just wave your right hand, and a cab will appear), I again have to contend with non-existent public transportation and all the similar inconveniences of living in Sleepy Hollow. Yeesh. It doesn't help either that I don't see high-rise buildings when I look to the horizon. Well, what can I say? I'm a big city girl who's needs her tall buildings to feel secure.

ND does have a beautiful campus, don't get me wrong. But I guess the beauty of the campus can only carry me so far. And don't even get me started about the icky winter. Or the equally dismal prospects for the football team this year.

Ugh, I'm complaining too much again, I know. Call it PMS on my part, even if I just had my period a week ago. I am pretty angsty right now, and I don't really know why. You know how it is when you just get up on the wrong side of the bed in the morning? Well, that's what I feel happened to me. And that's why you're reading this mopey post.

* * *

My firm shares its building with DDB, an advertising firm. Some days, I'd share the elevator with people in casual clothes, headphones snug around their face and a tall Starbucks cup in their hand. When these people'd get of in the DDB floor, I remember wondering about what they did. Were they copywriters? Art directors? Creative directors? Or were they Account Executives like I was before? It was such a throwback to my Makati days at Saatchi, where I'd go in to work in jeans everyday.

I loved the work that I did this summer, but there were times when I'd find myself wondering about how my life would have been if I had stayed in Manila and stuck with the advertising industry. I would have moved to copywriting, that's for sure. Account Executive work is SO not for me. It's funny that during my despedida, the creative director told me to let him know if I ever wanted to go back there as a copywriter. If I didn't leave, I would have been a copywriter, for sure. I wonder how that would have been like. Would that have been fun and fulfilling for me, because then I could work with words? I love working with words. Would I have been promoted and would I have been maybe Art Director by now? Would a career in screenplay writing then have been more probable?

So many possibilities. I know that this a case of the grass being greener on the other side. The career path I'm embarking on is pretty exciting itself and can't be beat in terms of compensation and perks. But a career in copywriting would have been fun. Going to work in jeans makes stuff fun.

* * *

There are times when I consciously have to remind myself not to think that I am old. I'm really not that old, see. I haven't even hit the quarter-of-a-century mark. But there are times when I feel old and worn. Those are the times when I think of all the possibilities and options that I have foregone by going on in this path. And I guess that would have been the same wherever else I would have ended up, right? When you make a choice, you forego other possibilities. That's the nature of choosing. But there are times when this simple reality bothers me and makes me think twice about what I'm doing right now.

It's not that I regret the choices that I have made. Even if I can't say that independence is something that I really treasured back in Manila, I do value my independence here and the freedom and exhiliration that comes with being able to do anything that I want to do. I love it that I have awesome friends here - both those I've met just by being here and those I knew back in Manila and that I'm reconnecting with because we're in the same country again. And the risk that I took with getting my JD here does seem to be paying off very nicely.

I guess the more definite my life seems to be becoming, the louder the roar of the other things that I still want to do, of alternate career paths or alternate personalities, none of which are really rooted in either my life experiences or credentials. I have to keep telling myself that now is not the time to be passive. Now is the time to make things happen.

I'm reflecting a little on the "successes" that I've had in life so far. They all seem trite and a tad meaningless right now - little victories in constructed spheres. I'm by no means belittling what I've done so far. I guess I'm just thinking that the time has long passed for me to do other things, to shoot for other stars, and walk on other moons. I want to do Something and be Someone. As in for real this time.

You know, I've always valued hard work and discipline. But I'm starting to wonder now whether I really know what it's like to work hard - to put everything on the line and reach for the Unreachable, the Unattainable. Very little has been out of reach for me. What I have wanted badly, I have pretty much gotten. But I guess life has been throwing some curveballs at me lately, closing some opportunities that I would have otherwise wanted to pursue. But rather than spur me to a flurry of action, those curveballs have just made me feel maybe a pang of regret. After a while, I feel nothing. I think I'm too proud sometimes, because when, say, an application for a team is denied to me, my impulse is to say (and to honestly believe this too) that the loss is theirs and not mine.

I need a goal. I need ambition. I need to be challenged. In stuff that matters, okay? A silly challenge is not a challenge but a waste of time. Sigh. Coasting along is fine, but I'd say that it's definitely not the most fun I can have with my clothes on.