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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

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.

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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.

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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!

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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.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

The End is Near - Didn't I Use This Title Already?

Two more days to go, and I am 2/3 done with my legal education. Two more days, and I must be prepared to write about the Due Process Clause and the Equal Protection Clause. Time to start reviewing. If only I can get up from my bed right now.

I'd make the usual crack about me having narcolepsy, but I don't feel comfortable doing that anymore ever since seeing this video. So I will just say that I am somnolent right now. And more accurately, I am antukin and a batugan.

Still have grand plans for this blog. Have a lot of interesting obsessions to detail and also some highly charged issues to start debate on. But all of those plans will have to be delayed until after my last exam.

Well, am hopping in the shower now. And then after, well, Con Law II - you're it.

Always Open Your Mail

Note to self and reminder to the world: always open your mail - even those you think is spam. The only kind of mail you may be justified in not opening are those that say Home Depot in front.

Had a major scare today, when I realized that my work card hadn't arrived yet. Contacted the office here, and the contact person was concerned because other cards, applications for which were filed later than mine, had already arrived. Was convinced the card was lost in the mail. Made plans to call the post office (which was closed, thankfully) and also to go to her office to begin the process of filing a statement for the lost card.

Caught sight of the post office box in my receipt. Remembered that one of the unopened envelopes I'd tossed aside some days ago was from there. Tore the non-marked white envelope open. Sure enough, my card was there, featuring me, in my pearled and expanded glory.

Thank you Lord that I don't throw my mail. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And St. Anthony, thank you for helping me find first the receipt and then the mail. St. Anthony's the bomb. He never fails. But St. Jude has a special place in my heart, just because my Granny is so fond of him.

I really was saved a lot of time and inconvenience there. I'm going to have my first final exam tomorrow, and then I have one on Tuesday and then on Friday.

Whew, disaster averted. Again: always open your mail. Or at least never throw it.

I Miss 1L Exams

Yeah, that's right. I find myself longing for the exams of the first semester of the first year of law school. That was the closest I had ever come to academic suicide (not because I didn't work hard, but because I didn't work right), but through the grace of God, everything worked out in the end.

I don't miss the academic suicide part, or the panicky feeling that accompanied it. What I do miss is the tight scheduling, the whole a day and a half to study and then take the test. And then repeat for about five times.

While I do have a lot more time to study for my exams this semester, the problem is I have a little too much time, and I am caught in this weird situation where I technically can pursue my other interests, but I can't really go all out and do so because the imposing figure of my finals is looming in the background.

I cannot wait for my last exam to be over. I'm going to have to pack like mad, but that torture will be swift, as my cousin arrives on the Sunday after next (my last final exam is the Friday after next) to whisk me off to Chicago. And then the next day, I hop on a Southwest plane to good ol' California for a week of rest and relaxation and sisterly bonding.

I can't wait for that. I can't wait for this to be over. I can't wait to start summer. I can't wait to graduate from law school.

Ka-Ching

This is my last class of my second year in law school. Just turned in my TCE (teacher-something-evaluation), and am waiting for others to do the same. The professor can't actually enter the classroom right now, so we're just bumming around (happily) and waiting for the TCE proctor to go away.

This can't be a long post, as I think my professor will notice my frantic typing in the middle of class. But anyway, there's something I wanted to share. To my debating friends, remember the Oxford finals? The one where they took a video of me and Ollie? Well, after almost four years of using my name and video on their website, they finally paid me. I am 50 pounds richer as a result. (That's English pounds. No wise cracks.)

Yahoo!!! Money makes this poor law student happy.

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So, I said that I'd blog about my take on the world, and so far, all I've been blogging about is me. Grin. Well, it's finals time. It's me time. Me, me, me. You, you, you. Nah, that didn't sound right. Me, me, me.

Productivity

Okay, I admit it - I am feeling the urge to be productive right now. Not in the sense of "I want to start buckling down and studying for finals" (although it'd be awesome if I felt that way, as finals are just around the corner), but in the sense of "I want to produce something, use my labor to come up with a product."

I'm being neither sarcastic nor dramatic. And that's the sad part.

I just feel the itch to do some busy work and get things moving. The last time I did this was in my senior year in high school, when I was the head of the debating club. My members and I did a lot of good things that year (i.e. best hosting job ever), and, while I had to stay up late working on proposals and doing other admin stuff that came with the position, I was happy. Satisfied and happy.

When I got to college, I shunned admin stuff completely, but I was very active in the competitive debating scene. And this was really the perfect route for me. I got to do what I wanted, and I didn't have to do what I didn't want to do. Besides, if you're sent to South Africa to represent the school, it's hard to find something to complain about.

But now, there is reason to complain. Ugh. There's no outlet apart from school for me, no assurance that aside from school or even in spite of it, I am doing something worthwhile. This is a really sad realization, given that I will be graduating next year and leaving South Behind forever. I remember my college professor who always reminded us to "live, love, and leave a legacy." (Or wait, was it some Covey guy who said that?)

The point is that I have been living, I have been loving, but I have no legacy to leave here. That is just so sad. There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but I have never been one of those people who were satisfied with just passing in the night. I want to do something, damn it.

To be fair, I did handle a project for this org that I'm a part of. That turned out okay, I suppose, but I didn't find fulfillment working on it, for reasons I shall be keeping to myself, and I'm not too excited to do something like that again.

Well, I have several prospects for next year, and a huge one for this summer. There are a lot of opportunities to be productive and to do something. Watch me go for gold, friends - the Productive C is back in the game.

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I am suffering from tinnitus. I'm not sure if I have the objective one or the basic one, but I am pretty sure that this is the condition that assailed me last night. Was lying in bed, trying to sleep, when I heard a chorus of bells. My gut feel told me that I was either being crazy or possessed, and I was already summoning St. Michael the Archangel to my side, when I remembered Archie Andrews and the gang, my good ol' friends from Riverdale High.

I remembered that cartoon strip where Reggie Mantle and Veronica Lodge put bells on Betty Cooper's hair, and Betty thought she was going crazy and she was crying and being otherwise, well, crazy. And then Ms. Grundy demanded to know what was going on, and saw the bells and figured everything out.

When I remembered that, I breathed a sigh of relief and closed my eyes. I wasn't going crazy - Reggie and Veronica had just put bells on my hair.

* * *

My sleeping schedule is out of whack. Dang those two papers. Yesterday, I went to bed at around 7:30 P.M., got up at around 12 M.N., and then went to bed again at around 5:00 P.M.. For those five hours that I was awake, I fixed this blog up and then chatted with my sister who's in California. And then the bells happened. I slept at 5 A.M., and woke up again at around 3 P.M.. And here, I am making a web appearance. Hey, wait a minute - so I am being productive after all.

A New Beginning

Have been meaning to ressurect my online presence for some time now. Things have been happening in the world, and I find myself with an opinion on almost every single one of them. I usually blurt them out to my friends or else write them in my journal, but am thinking it's time to share some of those thoughts now. I cannot be selfish with my wisdom.

Got a private motive in that too, of course, quite apart from the warm feeling I get when I am of service to humanity. I am the most avid web surfer I know, and I come across the most interesting things in my online journeys. Will be dropping some bread crumbs as I go my way. I think they'd make for interesting reads.

And one other reason I did this now is to have a reprieve from law school. In the past two days, I have rid myself of four credits. That's two 20+ papers off my hands and into my prayers. And in just two weeks, it's time for finals again. Whoopee. Ah, school is always a good reason to vent. If my ranting doesn't sound appealing to you, just stick with me anyway, because in three weeks, I'm off to Chicago for to be wined and dined, big-time.

Well, this is all for now, folks. I have just spent the past hour or so revamping the site, and I'm ready to get out of here. One episode of Boston Legal and then it's off to bed for me.

OH. Before that, I just want to say that I've gone back to the original title, "Chameleon Sofia." Not the Gunner, not the Highlighter, not Light Metaphors. It's Chameleon Sofia again. If you want to know why, see Alpha.