For All the Lives You Lead

An advertisement for a cellular phone struck me when I saw it because of its claims of superior multitasking capabilities. As an eternally restless kid, I thrive on carrying multiple roles that require results in rapid succession.

One time, I was eerily reminded of the ad. It happened on a Saturday morning, which was not my sharpest time of the day and of the week. I had to attend a seminar at the law school, and I was specifically told to wear business attire as my picture will be taken for the Faculty ID card. So I took out my favorite power suit, blow-dried my hair, and carefully applied makeup.

I always store workout clothes in the car just in case Nike the goddess of fitness decides to descend upon me and motivate me to do some rounds in UP campus. Workout clothes, Skechers walking shoes, check. Check.

I was going to meet my friends at Mr. Jones after the seminar so I packed casual weekend clothes as well. I was going on my first round of Christmas bazaars so I packed my updated 2009 Gift List too.

I also keep a spare pair of flip-flops in the car for floods, pedicures, and other eventualities.

I zoomed from Quezon City to Makati and miraculously made it on time. When I got to the Lyceum parking area, I stopped the car, and as had been my practice since ruining two perfect leather shoes early this year due to driving, reached for my black pumps to replace my Crocs. To my shock, my shoe bag was not where it was supposed to be. It was inside the bag containing my Saturday shopping clothes. Both bags were, unbelievably left in my bedroom.

In my haste and confusion, I arrived in business attire from head to… above the foot. I pictured myself entering the august halls of the LPU library, with my colleagues admiring my corporate appropriateness, eyeing me from head to… Crocs! I panicked. I contacted all my friends in the general Makati area, and at 8 a.m. on a Saturday, I knew I must have deprived some of their beauty sleep. I needed office shoes that would fit my feet and my outfit, and I repeatedly banged my head (lightly) on the car window for my stupidity. All the Crocs, Skechers, and Havaianas in the world could not fill my need at the moment.

Finally one of my BFFs woke up and generously offered to lend me a shirt (for later) and the requisite shoes. Thank God she’s almost my size. I would have worn a size 7.0 if that was the only pair available. I had to drive to Taguig to fetch the loaned goods, however, and thus missed the first part of the seminar. My priorities showed, but shoes complete the outfit!

Later, I credited this confusion to my desire to lead many lives. I had two jobs and three phones, two home computers and an office computer, multiple email addresses and blogs, a virtual life and a real life. I realized that I had to pull myself together and be consistent, since perfection was obviously unattainable.

A high – profile lawyer told me a couple of days later that she left her heels at home and was grateful she had left her weekend shopping shoes in the car, and that they happened to be black. The shoes went well with her suit and I complimented her for it. I did not tell her of my similar, in fact worse, experience. But I had to smile that I was not alone in making that mistake. The only problem is: she’s about thirty (30) years older than me.

I therefore conclude that this multitasking thing is speeding up my aging process. I had better get grounded and organized. Soon.

Does Your Teacher Teach?

“The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” - William Arthur Ward

I start teaching on Monday.

There is a feeling of gratitude for I take this as a wonderful opportunity to share something of value to the next generation of lawyers. But there is also some trepidation. What if they need more than I can give?

I decide to put these fears at the back of my head, and concentrate on the task at hand. I will give my best, and leave the rest to God. Yes, I admit, that I am a bit excited to formally and finally be a teacher. Like my parents before me. My aunts. My siblings. My very own teachers.

The subject assigned to me is so benign, but my students are in for a surprise. I will make them work hard for their grade, in the hope that they will become better legal researchers and lawyers in the future.

So watch out for Ella's Classroom Experiences. They are bound to be anything but boring. :)

Shaken, But Not Stirred

Since I can't sleep anyway, I might as well write.

I got hit by a bus. The car I was driving, I mean. I'm fine, and the car will be fine after repair, but it was another harrowing experience.

Is it just me, or have bus drivers, especially those plying the Fairview-Manila route, worsened in their blatant ignorance of all traffic rules and regulations? I must have been thinking of them too much and getting affected by their snake-like driving from Commonwealth to Taft Ave. that one night, I just found my car being slowly hit by a bus.

It was a rainy night, and rush hour traffic was moving slowly. I knew I was sticking to my lane, however narrow it was due to the inexistent lane division on that part of Quezon Ave., when all of a sudden I felt the collision, and to my utter horror, the bus driver did not stop. It only meant that he did not notice that he was already about to run over an entire car. He was oblivious to my car's blaring horn. He only stopped the bus when he heard a loud, scraping sound, and I don't know, maybe his passengers who had better eyesight and awareness of their surroundings noticed what he was doing.

I was all alone, and no matter my 10 years of practice, I still could not compose a single lawyer-like sentence to defend my rights. The driver, his conductor, and ten million other uzi (Pinoy term for people who like to ogle during the oddest and most inappropriate times, like accidents) proceeded to my side of the car. Driver insisted that it was my fault, because, if he had been the one at fault, I would have suffered greater injury. Then he asked me to move my car because his passengers were being inconvenienced. I felt my blood rising.

I should have thanked him for doing a Chavit! (Chavit Singson is the notorious "state witness" who told on his ex-friend Erap, thus starting his impeachment case, and who recently told the media that his lover and her new bf were lucky that he only hurt them and did not have them killed, after he caught them in the act of making love). Oh, thank you bus driver, that I only suffered that injury!

I told him instead that it the vehicles should not be moved until the police officer had had the chance to inspect the scene and make a sketch of the collision. Well, maybe in not that clear a manner, for I was in distress and close to tears. I willed myself not to cry in anger and frustration. I had to think.

It was hard to think. I could not focus. It was dark, it was raining, and I had been in that situation before, but for some reason - tiredness, maybe, or panic - I could not think straight. After a couple of minutes of quick prayer, I told myself that I had to pull myself together. I called up my family and friends to ask for help. I was so helpless and alone and I needed a lawyer, a policeman, a family member, and a friend.

I got what I wanted. They all came at the same time. The traffic police came first, and he was very efficient. I trusted him on instinct, and he was nice to me. I don't think it had anything to do with where I worked. He must have seen that it was the bus driver's fault and I was the victim, for he walked me through the entire ordeal and made me feel safe, that everything was going to be alright.

My brother was in a meeting, but he sent my sister-in-law, who immediately took photos and assured me with her presence. I wanted to cry when I saw her, but stopped myself again. She accompanied me to the police station, and only left when my friend, the lawyer, arrived.

My lawyer was no stranger to car accidents, having herself been in one last week, where I played the role of lawyer. She was the calm one while I tried to control my anger, and came up with a wise strategy that solved my problem for the night. She advised that we aim for a cash settlement outright. The policemen were very, very helpful. They did their job well without a single centavo from any of the parties. There is hope for this country. Goodness still exists underneath the rough exterior of people.

After a long, restless wait, the bus company operator arrived and the dreaded negotiation began. I tried to recall everything I had learned about those situations, but no concept or idea came to mind. That was what TSP was there for. She assisted me when I began arguing with the obviously drunk operator. The policemen let us come up with an agreement before they came in. They too were surprised that the owner/operator paid in cold cash, although his hands were shaking while he was counting the money.

This experience woke me up to many things, but one thing I know, is that when trials hit one after another, instead of complaining, I should be grateful, that God provides the means to triumph over them one by one. Worst things could have happened, my parents said when I related the story. I could have been hurt. My nephew asked his mom to tell me that he was glad that I was not hurt and that he loved me. I had wonderful friends who were praying for me and who offered help even though they could not be physically present.

Ironically, it's the bus operator's statement that summarized the experience. "Nobody is perfect on the road," he said. That's right. I realized that if accidents happen, as they sometimes do, there are much more things to be grateful for. As I told a friend when he asked me how I was after the accident, "I'm shaken, but not stirred." It was a bad thing to happen, but good things came out of it.

I close with the psalm for today that I read this morning before going to work:

I will give thanks to the LORD with all my heart in the company and assembly of the just. Great are the works of the LORD, exquisite in all their delights. (Ps. 111, 1-2)

For what can I say? He answered all my prayers tonight. I will sleep with that comforting thought. I will bring the car to the talyer this weekend. No driving for me for a few days.

Will also pray if it's time to move.

I Was Thirsty

Just imagine how thirsty I was earlier this evening. I was out with my friends, we had all just come from a two-wedding-weekend where we had played various roles to support the respective couples, we were dressed to the nines, and my order had just arrived.

The waiter placed the ice-cold bottle on top of the coaster. Then, my seatmate exclaimed that she had a missed call from one of our friends. I checked my cellphone and saw two missed calls as well. We looked at one another and suspected something was wrong. When we got in touch with our other friend, true enough, we found out that the car they were riding got side-swept by a truck.

I stared at my drink, which I had waited for since yesterday. I looked at the brother beside me, who was talking to the girls in the car accident, and asked him if the damage was serious. He reported that the girls were okay, but the two vehicles that collided were already causing traffic.

Perhaps I was exhausted from the two weddings, but I was, up to that point, oblivious to my supposed role in the incident. I attempted to take a sip. My friend, who was also a lawyer, asked the brother, "Do they need our help?" I sighed. "Do they need a lawyer?" I asked, suddenly imagining my friends' predicament and wishing I could just take one sip.

We discussed what to do and it was decided that three of us would rescue the girls. I stared longingly at the ice-cold drink in front of me. Brother M told me, "Let's come back to drink that later."

We turned out to be a good team. Brother M knew everything about cars, K could play good lawyer, and I could play tough lawyer.

During the drive to the scene of the accident, it suddenly dawned on me. I was never going to see that drink again. Never mind that my friends and I had planned and waited for that perfect moment when all our duties would have ended and we did not anymore have to wake up early the next day. It was a long, but very enjoyable, day and it was not going to end the way I wanted it to.

When we got there and saw our friends, our drinks were momentarily forgotten. The truck was loaded with six pigs. It was midnight. We did not have sufficient paper to properly write the driver's statement on. The driver claimed he had no money, which we all agreed was just the standard excuse.

We all wanted it over and done with. At least no one was hurt. But it took us too long to get out of that situation that our other friends, who had watched our drinks for us, had to go home already. In the interest of safety, we all went our separate ways as well after we got back to the restaurant. Somebody graciously paid for my unopened drink.

I don't usually charge lawyers' fees from friends (for small matters like these), but I will make an exception on this one, and will settle for a drink. One ice-cold drink.

The Blogger is Out

I will be at the IBP 12th National Convention of Lawyers until Saturday, so no posts til then. If Globelines does not fix our Internet connection, no blog posts until I don't know when.

I will be in Bacolod City, which to my law school blockmates is the Land of Napoleones, but the trip will be all work for me. At least I had seen the sights in the City of Smiles already from several visits in the past, so it's not so bad.

I'm hoping to make new friends and bring home the bacon. ;)

From Bar Ops to Beer Ops

We were invited by a faculty member, who happens to be our friend and Lingkod brother Ted, to serve in the Bar Ops mass for UP barristers on the last Saturday of February. So I went there with two lawyer-friends, Tess and Paul (with family), who both played the guitar. Although my company is a sponsor in the UP and ALSP Bar Ops, I went there as a former bar hopeful. I went there to attend mass celebrated by Fr. Nono, to listen to the Dean give his encouraging message, and to be one with the bar takers. I was once (or twice) in their shoes, and I know they need all the support and encouragement they could get.



Ahh, times have changed. During my term as Treasurer of the Law Student Government, Bar Ops was held in the country's biggest law firm. Last weekend, it was held in the hotel, with flowing food. During our time, we were a tips machinery. This time, I could not see a single printer churning out last-minute tips. Or perhaps they were just beaming the tips to the barristers' cellphones, laptops, and PDA's. I couldn't tell. I was busy eating, chatting, and singing (videoke).


I was with the LSG Treasurer after me, TSP, and we met the current LSG Treasurer. We should have had our picture together in front of this streamer. For everything becomes about the bar - all fundraisers, all efforts, all studies, all exams. You could do well in law school but if you fail the bar, you cannot practice. It's as simple as that.

I should know. I was one of the reasons UP didn't reach a 100% during my time. They say it doesn't matter in practice. They say I'll forget about it.

But every year, every September, I remember. This is not my last blog post on the matter.

To all (not just UP) bar petitioners, I am praying for you. Enjoy your well-deserved rest. Worry about the results another day, preferably next year. There's nothing you can do now but to pray and to wait.

In between, you could party. That's all right too.