Thursday, October 7, 2004

Thesis Talk

It has been a week since my thesis defense. As of this writing, I am in school, waiting for my friend Anna who is bound to start her defense in about half an hour. I got to school before her and when she entered, I have every right to believe I looked exactly like her a week ago. On second thought, I think I looked far worse.

The entire masters class of 30 drew lots for the defense schedule in the latter part of September. There was no premonition of anything awful to happen that day. In fact, I was almost convinced it was about to pass me by as another regular day in my life which would end up unscraped in the bottom of my life's trash bin. So when my teacher Mr. P. called out that the lots were ready to be drawn, I drifted over to him like a zombie. I was half thinking "I studied statistics. What is the possibility of me getting the '1' lot?" I picked out a teeny weeny piece of roughly cut yellow paper which lay strewn on the table like cobblestones. When I opened the piece I selected, the reaction was somewhat delayed, perhaps because lack of sleep had greatly extended the time it would take a stimulus to travel to my half-fried brain. All I remember was seeing a vertical black line and I turned the paper around. WHAT???!!! I actually got number 1??? My brain went from fried to simmering. No it can't be! I just read it wrong. There must be another vertical line here somewhere...or even a little round figure which looks like Humpty Dumpty. But no! In one of those rare moments in my life, I could say I was first in something. I mean, I was never picked first during PE class when we played volleyball or basketball. Between my sister and me, I was not the first to learn how to tie my sneakers' shoelaces. In any activity which involves random numbers, I never got 1...not even when I played perya games or in Bingo! But no, when it comes to the one thing which would virtually dictate my life's outcome in the next eight months...I had to be number one!!!

So what followed was getting my nose buried in front of my computer. I was working on a topic which was relatively new so there were no dusty books yet available in the library to sneeze into. I spent every day downloading new PDFs into the computer and reading them till my eyes ached. Though I love to write, I now felt like I was actually forced to do so. I grew sick of MS Word and I found myself eyeing the little icon which said "Starcraft" on my desktop about a gazillion times. I later on decided to delete it...the icon I mean, not the program! When my written proposal was due a week before the defense date, I found myself doing a dramatic moment (take your pick "Maalaaala Mo Kaya" or "Magpakailanman") because there was something wrong with my paper and I had to undergo a serious perspective realignment. I cried a lot (What an understatement!) but after about an hour I was fine again, typing in front of the computer while munching wafers and playing Utada Hikaru mp3s. Attribute it to a phone chat with my parents and repeated murmurings of "Lord, help me" as I wrote.

Good thing I was able to finish my proposal on Wednesday morning (it was due on Thursday). By that afternoon, I was so tired I could barely lift my butt from the sofa. I just lay there with a pillow and a blanket as I watched Samurai X with my sister, thinking how pathetic Cori was for wasting away because Kenshin left. Later on, we watched the delayed telecast of the Amazing Race and as I witnessed Nicole break down in the bike ride detour, the reception was interrupted all of a sudden. My sister and I decided it was time to end the day and we slept at 10 PM, 4 hours earlier than my usual sleeping time.

Defense happened last week and I was a nervous wreck as I stood in front of Mr. P. I rattled as I spoke and he apparently enjoyed my look of utter fear. The ten minutes I spent standing there with my Powerpoint presentation was almost an eternity. When I was done, I stood there trying to look pensive and controlled when in reality, my insides were like rambled pieces of a jigsaw puzzle mixed with Dinuguan. I thought "Another minute of silence and I will end up like Nicole on that ski slope!" Mr. P cut through my silent scream when he said my thesis was "theasible (feasible thesis)." If I did not have self control, I would have bolted out the door and made a mad dash to the chapel. But of course, it was not utterly perfect. There were still modifications to be made but passing was enough.

I hope Anna does all right. I'm going back there in a little while when it's her turn. Actually if I had my way, I would want everyone in the class to pass!

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