Word Stack or A Pile of Thoughts

Still trying to make sense of the things that happened this past week.  Some of the things were really cool.

NDC was a combination of Frank Sinatra and All-American Rejects.  Don’t ask why, but it really was a strange brew.  Every tourney has its own particular flavor, and this one really messed me up.  Other things aside, I’m really thankful for the performance of the other Silliman Debaters, and the wonderful people of the whole Philippine debate scene, particularly the UP Cebu, ADDU and ADZU people who made the whole experience just that much richer. 

Like Jack "Banana Pancake" Johnson says, "It’s always better when we’re together."

This was my last NDC, and I wish it could have been better.  In a way, it was sort of anti-climatic.  Of all the times to fail, it had to be during that crucial octo-finals round.  I let my partner down, my team, my whole contingent and everyone else who expected more of us.  I expected more, and I failed.  More than anything, the blow struck on multiple levels, and it’s taking me a bit of time to hit back.  As a debater, I don’t think I can keep this going: my last NDC and I blew it.  The best I can do is to just fall back on the other things that I’m into, and remind myself that debate isn’t life (hearkens back to what Nayna said: "Law school isn’t life,").  Sometimes, the things we consider the most important really aren’t as important as we might think they are.  But of course, that thought isn’t very good comfort in the face of summers and sem-breaks spent in debate tourneys for the past four years.  Nope, not when most of my friends are from the debate scene, and most of what I’ve learned has come from debate. 

The end of a dream can be a hard pill to swallow. 

But the question is always: what next?

The over-all running theme this past few weeks is the Black Swan: Nassim Taleb’s idea of the deeply-affecting unpredictable.  I have a long list of things that I want to do next year.  But who really knows?  A small change here or there can mess up even the most careful plans, to the point where stubbornly pressing actually becomes something unnecessarily painful. 

Okay, that’s the end of the chapter of debating.  It’s a lot like the Spider-Man movies, where the first and second parts were really cool, but the third just sucked and left everyone gagging. 

But that’s not the end, thank God.  They won’t make another Spider-Man movie, and I won’t go back to debating (it’s a bit late, forgive my analogy.)  I have things to look forward to, and there’s a lot that I have no idea about, and every day can be a chance for something good. 

For a little over two months now, I’ve been working in tandem with Noel at DYSR, a local contemporary hit radio (CHR) station.  In a sense, its job/career activity, and lately its been reminding me of how fun it is to actually get your hands dirty and get paid for it.

I remember working in WalMart during the holidays.  That was back 2001, when I was still in high school.  I was saving up money for (hehe) a Warhammer tabletop army, and I took the job to augment my allowance.  I made about $7.00 an hour, and worked part-time, which was four hours every other day, and six hours on Saturday.  But what I remember is not the money– what I remember was the experience.

Working a cash register may not sound like the greatest job in the world, but it certainly can be interesting.  One meets all sorts of people.  One time, a lady came through my register, jabbering in Spanish.  I rang-up around $200 worth of clothes, and when I showed her how much she had to pay, she pulled out a wad of dollar bills and started counting.  My face fell, and I immediately called up a floor supervisor (called a CSM in WalMartish). "CSM to register 15, CSM to register 15 for customer assistance, thank you," the voice echoed through the department store intercom.
A red-vested supervisor arrived, knowing I was newbie on the job, and she looked like she expected me to have screwed up with a credit card or a customer complaint.  She asked me what was going on, and I nodded my head at the lady who was still counting.  The CSM grabbed the phone and said "Can a Spanish-speaking associate please come to register fifteen?  Thank you."

Moments later, a sweaty guy came huffing and puffing up to the line, and spoke in rapid Spanish to the lady. He then explained that he would pay with his credit card, and I got that done.  While I was doing this, the lady came back, carrying a huge plant.  The guy turned to her and said, "No, no, no, mas grande! Mas grande!"

People are interesting.

I met red-necks, wearing paint-streaked camouflage overalls, explaining that they were buying the paint "Ter help paint mah brother-in-law’s new trailer."  There were old ladies buying potpourri for the kitchen.  Parents telling me to stick the toys at the bottom of the bag beneath the cutlery.  Other teenagers asking me how much I made. 

On Christmas eve, I volunteered to be part of the skeleton crew.  Last minute shoppers were gone, and everything was quiet.  The bright white lights were on, the floor was squeaky clean, and "Merry Little Christmas" was playing.  Outside, everything was already dark, and snow drifts were piling up.  I really felt Christmas that year, and I still don’t know exactly why. 

When I think about where I am today, the people I’ve met, the situations I’ve been in, and all the drama and sentiment I’ve experienced, it feels exhilarating.  A year ago, I’d never had imagined I’d be HERE, doing THIS, with YOU/HIM/HER.  It just goes to show how interesting life can be, and how wide, rich, and unmeasurable  human experiences are.  Who knows where I’ll be a year from now?  Working somewhere, beneath the white lights and listening to Christmas songs on the office radio, trying to save up money for graduate school?  Who will I count among my friends? 

I’ll never really know until its too late, and the whole storm of things is spinning around me.  No one ever really knows.

Alright, so a few people are saying that the Friendster blog isn’t quite the place for the expression of ideas; they’d much rather read about what’s going on, what’s happening… so I’ll give it a whirl.

These days, it’s all about waiting for the next thing to come along, for something to happen and fall off the shelf.  NDC is coming up, and there’s a lot to look forward to: the competition, the meeting up with friends, all the crazy things that happen during a tournament.  I can’t wait for the bus ride, the cold mountain air, the late nights just sitting around outside, thinking about ideas or reading a nice book… I’ll bring my computer so I can do some serious writing between and after the debate business.  After NDC, the Pinoy Media Congress promises something of an experience.  Who knows who I’ll meet, what I’ll get involved in?  Since I volunteered for the "Security and Order Committee", the plan is to dress-up in suit and tie with the other guys, so we look like a bunch of made-men for some Don.  It’s more a game than anything. 

Second semester is last semester, and I know I’m taking another Religion class, the one on Christian ethics: its an opportunity to do some serious damage.  Media law is up as well, so that’s also promising.  In December, there’s the Worlds, and the whole idea of being in Bangkok for the holidays is a point in itself.  Not to mention being able to adj debaters from all over the world, and (if I don’t break) sit back and enjoy the break-rounds.  It’s gonna be an awesome trip. 

Then, it’ll be just three months from graduation.  That’s time to start preparing to leave, calling people, making arrangements.  Because next year, life starts again in a new place and with new people.  Adventure, adventure. An old friend of mine, Cassandra, said "We cannae wait for tha’". 

But right now, my company is a research paper draft, the internet, and a few good books.  That’ll keep me for a week.