The 4 Archetypal Text-Messengers

Apart from a weird, almost condescending, self-righteous and brainy title, what is of importance to read here? You see, ever since smartphones- don't know why they call them that, the damned things always get stuck at the most important moments- allowed for people to send instant messages from their phones, society has evolved in a widely different system of interactions between people. This new "society" is composed of 4 main types of people: the invasive texter, the evasive texter, the mute texter and the read-only texter. The effects of having them interact between each other is of disastrous, hilarious and yes, apocalyptic proportions.

The Invasive Texter

Ever heard of cybernetic stalkers, those guys that stalk women and children online? They seem to have a distant cousin called the invasive texter, a person that when armed with a smartphone can invade your privacy and even your thoughts. They seriously have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder when it comes to texting other people. These people stop at nothing when they begin to text you, its just an endless stream of IM after IM, you try to answer them in the hopes they might just shut up, but before you can another stream of IMs starts coming your way, after that its just blinking, and ringing/vibrating and letters and numbers all coming out of your at once at you. Like any sane person, you decide not to answer them because you don't want another invasion of IMs and you also didn't have the chance to read anything that they sent you, the end? No, because you didn't answer there's another endless stream of IMs coming your way: it will just never end and it's your fault, since you gave this person enough trust creating boundary issues in them.

What makes someone become an invasive texter? Simply put, boredom! Invasive Texters are people that have nothing of importance to do and to kill some time, before some extraordinary event in their life occurs, they randomly pick on a victim from their contact lists. That's the first theory, but being this a serious and academic study of the human psyche, there has to be another theory, or two. The other theory, the Romantic IM Theory, is that the invasive texter has got the hots for you and, for some odd reason, lacks the social and people skills to actually approach you in a less freaky way. This texter seems to think that they can use words to make them fall for you, so ladies and gents, please beware when romantic IMs start flowing your way. It's sick, I know! The final theory, that is the Boundary Issues Theory, is that the Invasive Texter is actually a very good friend of yours, who suffers from boredom, boundary issues and has a strange need to know everything about everyone, and since they know they are friends with you, they just grab the phone and IM till you die or answer, or both. The problem, of course, is that they are unpredictable and will resort to invading your phone whenever they feel the need to communicate something to you.

How to survive the IM Invasions? Answer in short, ambiguous words and phrases and use a lot of smileys, to repel any IM invasion. If you want to counterattack, just throw your own volley of IMs towards the invader, in other words, invade their phone. If that doesn't work you've got an unstoppable invader on your hands and the best thing to do is to turn off your phone, put a blanket on it, grab a gun, shoot it and get another phone and a new number.

The Evasive Texter
These people seem to be allergic to their phones, at the first sight of their phone ringing/vibrating their hands swell up, their eyes bulge out and they start getting all red as hives start to appear all over them. They are terrified of IMs, and some even avoid reading them, let alone answering them. But the focus of this study is the Evasive Texter that replies to you with unnecessarily short IMs, that person that if possible only sends a single word in reply. Annoying? Check. Its worse than the guy that only reads the IM but doesn't IM you back, at you can give that one the benefit of the doubt that they were to busy to text you back. The Evasive Texter, on the other hand, seems to want you to know that they hate texting back.

People become Evasive Texters for many reasons. The first theory, the Touchscreen Theory, is probably the most commonly occurring one: the texter hates to write long IMs, because it is extremely hard for them to type on their touchscreen-only phones.  The squinting and robot-like precision they need to type on their phones is just too much for them, so they resort to not texting you back or answering in what can only be described as military orders (i.e. Yes! No! Pick me up! Call me! Answer the phone!, etc). Another theory, the Lazy-text Theory, shows that people become evasive texters when  they simply find it boring and tiresome to write IMs on their phones. They have Whatsapp, BBM or whatever app installed just so other people can contact them just "when the need arises", they are border-line enemies with their IM apps and resort to answering with military orders, too. To them IMs are just a tool for whenever direct communications are not possible. Some scholars (read: me) also theorize that people become evasive texters since they are just too busy to answer your psychotic texts or they simply are too VIP to mix with the common rubble through IMs.

How to deal with evasive texters? Just call them, they don't have a complete aversion to human communications, you know. Or be like them and send them a really summarized and abridged short IM so a) you don't feel ignored and b) the other person doesn't die from an allergic reaction to their phone. If you want to be evil, on the other hand, invade their phones with your own IMs, but be prepared for physical retaliations.

The Mute Texter
This guy is actually very sociable and talkative in IMs, but whenever you meet them in person they are extremely quiet and sometimes shy. It seems that they have a double personality disorder in that they are one person while chatting and another when face-to-face with you. I don't know if I warned you, but texters all have some degree of mental illness in them, the mute and invasive texters being the craziest of all, so please, if you dare, continue reading this dark, somber and professional research errr...post on the psychology behind text messengers.

Mute texters are the life of the party- don't know how that can be possible in IM chatting, but lets use it figuratively- because they joke around, scream (read: uses lots of exclamation marks and capital letters), laugh and generally talk a lot through IMs. You might think the guy/girl will be just as fun in person. You thought wrong! They seem to be asleep, because they don't talk, let alone joke or laugh, while in person, they just stare into the void with no words coming out of their mouths. They are annoying, alright, but for another bunch of reasons, actually, a completely opposite set of reasons than those that make an invasive texter annoying. People around them are laughing, talking and having a good time, but the Mute Texter is just there, physically but not mentally, at least not in a way discernable to normal sociable human beings.

There is no known reason why people become mute texters, but it is probably because they just run out of conversation topics over IM that when you meet them in person they have absolutely nothing to talk about. Or they might be shy, for any reason, and don't feel as ugly, little, fat, too tall or smelly when chatting through IMs, as they do when they are in person and their awful truth is not a secret to the general public. Obviously the legendarily ugly gentleman will talk like a playboy over IM but won't say a thing when sitting in front of you. Another explanation is that you make them nervous and since you don't see them sweating when they are texting you, they'll prefer to talk to you in that way instead of having to risk you seeing they are a human fountain.

The mute texter is probably the easies to survive: just follow their lead over IM and don't go near them in person. If you want to have fun with them, talk a lot to them in person, because they react in humorous ways.

The Read-Only Texter
Do you have a friend that only reads the IMs you send to them and all of a sudden, when they talk to you in person or over the phone they have systematically analyzed your IMs? That person is a Read-Only Texter, a person that does not reply to any IMs and just reads them. It's like talking- or rather, texting- to a wall or any other inanimate object, because there is no answer to your rants over IM. Yes, they are ignoring you, but not because they hate you, they just think they are too VIP to talk to us, the proletariat or they are simply too busy to express their opinion about the ugly pair of shoes you just bought or that girl that doesn't like you back. People become R-O Texters for the same reasons they become Evasive Texters.

These guys are the easiest to have fun with, you just have to invade their phones to get a response from them. Also, if you don't reply to their texts they also begin to slowly lose their sanity and become Invasive Texters themselves. If all else fails, start having conversations through them by posting things that shouldn't be discussed in public in facebook wall posts, for example.

After this exhaustive "study" of the psychology behind different kinds of people that use text-messaging apps all I can conclude is that all of us have, at some point, been any of the texters examined. Just remember, that if someone is smart enough they can have fun with you by exploiting the weaknesses of what kind of texter you are. And if you want to be any kind of texter, be an Evasive Texter, because the other guys have some kind of personality disorder that will be focus of another "investigation", for now, just be sure to know how to survive in the world of text-messaging.

He lied to you, he is already married...

to his car, computer, Playstation, Blackberry, iPhone…*phew* to any thing that beeps, roars or transports him to unknown and exotic places, in his TV or computer screen. Not only that, but they are having an affair with another gadget they got ahold of, it´s so dramatic it’s almost like a Mexican soap opera. It seems that men are sometimes lost in the pursuit, not of happiness, but of perfecting their toy, sometimes even learning how to use it- insert surprised face. Some physically get lost inside a car’s engine bay, others seem to become one with their TV, while yet others seemed to have their BB surgically implanted to their hands. It’s true, it’s hard, and it’s something women should know, so let’s take a look at the different kinds of “husbands” out there.

Successful Lawyer by the day, computer geek after 8 PM

He drives a spanking new race-ready, high-revving, chick-attracting BMW, while he wears an expensive Italian tailored suit- with matching silk underwear-. He speaks like an English professor, dines like a king and walks like a prince. That’s a picture of him at lunch hour, fast forward to 8 PM, a few good hours after coming out of his 9-5 job: it’s a whole other picture. But first, let’s be honest and give a down to earth, realistic example: me.

Rewind back and let’s start on the right foot now. He drives a recently repainted and repaired, mom-ready, grandma-friendly, bird poop-attracting BMW, while he wears whatever crap looks decent and tidy enough to wear to college- with mismatched everyday underwear- and takes notes on his mac. He speaks in Spanglish, without the Chicano accent though, dines on a TV table- yes, there is room service- and walks with his pants way below his butt. That’s him before the last college class, but let’s fast forward to 8 PM, when the need for such formality recently punched out of the office. Flip flops, PJ pants- that is if he decided to cover up his boxers-, old almost torn-apart t-shirt, a guy screaming at the TV or computer screen, 2 bags of Doritos, a few soda cans and explosions all around the room. You would think it’s another person, but no sir, it’s exactly the same tightly-wound, business-only guy that sits right at the back of the room to take class notes in silence on his mac, and hurries back running to his car to avoid any unnecessary contact.

So, how did this tragedy occur? Did the planets line up? Did aliens invade? I’m afraid it’s the natural two-faced nature of any self-respecting computer nerd. It doesn’t matter if he is a hot shot lawyer, or a hot shot note-taker, computer geeks always degenerate into screaming, pumped up creatures that somehow believe they have become the incredibly muscular, masculine and brave character shown onscreen, mowing down baddies one by one. The funny thing is that they try to hide it, as if they have some kind of contagious disease that will kill everyone around them.

Q: “Hey did you read the review on Dead Space 2”

A: “What Space, what book is that”

Real thought: “Review? I just beat the game last night at 4 AM, loser!”

*Phone rings*

Q: “Hey what’s, what are you doing today? Were you busy, I want to…”

A: “I’ve got work to do tonight/wake up early tomorrow, etc”

Real thought: “I’m busy getting my 1000^th trophy in Black Ops and did not want to pick up the damn phone, you moron!”

But some geeks are sneaky, they don’t say a thing, that is where reading their body language betrays them. There’s a geek-test, it’s 100% accurate in determining when you are dealing with a computer or videogame nerd.

· Sweating at the sight of a new game in public areas. Example: Intense sweating when holding FIFA in his hand.

· Dilated pupils when looking, talking about or being near a game they like. Example: wide-eyed look at the box of Metal Gear Solid.

· Folded arms when asked anything about a game by a non-nerd.

· Heavy breathing when asked about or talking about a game in front of non-nerds.

· Increased medical leaves, and mysterious “all-nighters” for assignments no one else seems to have heard of.

· Phones and messages are rarely answered after office hours.

· Intense and frenetic reading of newspapers in the morning.

· Social problems. Example: finds it hard to relate to most people, probably even his “normal” self.

Yes, geeks are chameleons. In the day they appear to be responsible students, accomplished professionals, employees of the month, you name it, but at night they all find themselves crying when their character is killed right before finishing a level…for the 100^th time. Joey stops being “Joey” at 8 PM and becomes poncejose88.

The Car-tune zombie

This is by far the worst of the lot. He actually thinks cars are alive. Some of them even think their car is a girl and give it girls’ names and don’t hook up with her, I mean “it”, only because they might get caught in the act. Sad, but true.

Does your man smell like oil? Does he have rough-feeling hands? Is he always tired when answering his phone on Saturdays? Does he spend more than 3 hours in his garage beside someone with a girl’s name? If you said yes to any of them, there is a 75% chance that your man is a gear-head, who knows more about how an engine works, than what to get you for valentine’s. That is just only beginning, picture this guy at a normal conversation, it’s just hilarious. People around him may be talking about classic XX century literature, and he intervenes saying such and such car are an expression of the engineer’s desire to fly away, conveyed through aggressive styling and a loud engine, while absentmindedly smiling, thinking of his car. Or he sits at the back of the classroom, just to buy new car parts to make his ride “look like the one in Need for Speed”, without being caught. The worst guy is the one that is so in love with his car, that he pays no attention to anything being said to him, or read by him about different, pressing and important real world issues like his girl talking about the shoes she say last week at Nine West.

Apart from being bad speakers, sneaky aces and suffering from what can only be described as ADD, these guys are compulsive buyers. Car-tuners are like zombies: they crave more power, more style for their car, and will stop at nothing, even bankruptcy. They buy a $10000 piece of metal tube, just to make their car less than a second faster, and louder than your mom screaming at you for your bed. Money is no object since they refuse to eat until they have it, steal it from any innocent bystander, sell their bodies for profit –this wouldn’t surprise me- or get a 5^th loan from the bank, because they have already spent so much on their ride that even buying bubble gum is a expensive luxury. Talk about responsible father figures…

They are also very avid and educated readers of prestigious monthly publications…about cars. They can quote to the last letter, what was said about the BMW X-something’s engine, in any given car magazine but forget the supermarket shopping list or what they just read on an email on which their career depends on. They know that a 3 inch exhaust tube is too big for their car, but are always covered in bad aids because they ignore that you can’t ask a woman about their age or weight. It is a simple fact to them. The fact that their car will arrive at 4:24 with three seconds PM on October 20^th 2011 is easily remembered by them, but they have trouble remembering when their birthday is. Can anyone say brain damage?

Sometimes they can appear to be excellent debaters. Picture this scene, BMW owner against a Mercedes Benz owner. They own similar cars, bought at almost the same price, made in the same country, yet each one thinks the other’s car is pure rubbish. Insane? Not to these two guys, apparently convincing the other guy his ride is a piece of junk, is just as important to him as getting back home alive, and I’m serious. One would mistake them to two lawyers passionately defending their respective client before a judge, but no…its’ just two idiots secretly envious because they think the other guy really got a better car. Is it me or does this seem like an argument more appropriate for a school playground, between 2 ten year-old boys?

Mister Gadget and the texter

He’s the typical guy that always arrives at work or school with the newest cellphone, iPod with the most features or the latest Blackberry. He’s the guy that programs his iPhone to do anything he wants it to do- including, but not limited to calculating a woman’s menstrual cycle, sick-. If there’s an app for anything, he’ll find it and spend a fortune of $0.99 on it. He’s Mister Gadget, the guy that to be more teched-up would have to be rebuilt himself with old computer parts.

He doesn’t sound like too much of a deal breaker, right? Wrong! These guys are obnoxious as hell, for all the wrong reasons. To begin with they take more care of their iPod’s well being than their own personal hygiene. Gross! I can totally tell you’re all about to throw up, but don’t let your imagination run too free, because there’s still a few miles to go. They also suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, for example when it comes to how protected from dust and scratches their BB is. Careful touching his gadget, he might rip out of your hands, taking two or three of your fingers with it. If your guy quite correctly thinks he is a professional singer, even if he was kicked out of the school’s choir, and he own an iPod, prepare for the most exciting creatures this world has ever seen: a human iPod shuffle, that is, a guy that remembers 10 lines of every song, sings them in no discernible order and shuts down or changes songs when hit in the stomach. Yes, it’s quite creepy but I’m sad to say the nightmare is still not over.

The worst kind of gadget guy is the one that goes shopping every day…to the app store! Beware of him, he might invite you to dinner, but don’t be so sure he’ll pay the check, because the probably maxed his card out buying oh-so-important apps to get the weather, turn on his TV, generally any kind of meaningless task you can possibly think of. To be sure, look at his iPhone/iPod/iPad or BB, and if the phone is protected with anything different to a skin or the case that came packaged with it, you might want to think about not going to a fancy place or taking some money with you, just in case.

You can’t pick a better time to be around him than when a new gadget is about to be released, that’s all he will talk about 24/7, pretty exciting, right? -ok, you’re allowed one free punch because of the sarcasm-. He’ll study and compare magazines, books, youtube videos, and so on and spend countless hours surfing the web just to determine that he wants a BB over an iPhone, because the BB has 1 MB more of memory than it, for example.

“Aren’t you forgetting about the texter?” Not at all, because the texter is just a Mister Gadget that has a BB problem: he is addicted to BBM. What makes him obnoxious? You’re talking to him, and he doesn’t answer-or he does it through his phone-because he is busy with his BB, as if someone with a gun told him to do so. He frequently stops talking when he “feels” something vibrated in his pants’ pocket. He is more anxious than a schoolboy counting the minutes left to the end of class, since every two minutes he’ll stop being there, figuratively speaking, while he checks on his phone. He sleeps with his phone on his bed, and the phone has a little bed covered with silk quilts and blankets, and its own mosquito netting. This guy is like a gadget man on steroids: scary, wild and prone to violence (when you try to grab their phone).

The (die hard) sports-fan

Lives and dies (and probably kills, too) for his team. Knows every player of every team, in every league of every sport. Disappears without a trace, during soccer, football, basketball, etc matches. Spends 500% of his income on sports clothing and spends 28-hour days in 10-day weeks playing FIFA. ‘Nuff said.

The Bottom Line

Are all of these guys deal breakers? No. If you take that approach none of us will ever qualify for even a first “half-a-date”, because every guy is married to some kind of gadget or hobby. Their commitment is so important to them, that they sometimes forget about other important things, such as eating, breathing, going to the toilet and listening to his girl talk about handbags. It doesn’t mean that he cares about other people any less, it’s just that for a few moments, other people seem to disappear, for him. The truth is that the car, BB, or other toy that a guy has, really came before any girl he meets. So, is he cheating on you with his car? No, he isn’t, he’s cheating on Eleanor, a 1964 Mustang, with you. That’s just how the nature of man is. Sad, but true.

No sense of humor or just a weird one?

It seems somewhere along the line, I lost a gene. Yes, lost! I don’t know where it went, but I do know it got replaced by another. So how do you go about losing the “sense of humor” gene and getting it substituted by a “serious” gene-if such a thing is even possible? I haven’t got the slightest clue, but the thing is sometimes I’m convinced I don’t have a sense of humor or at least a normal one…

Is there any evidence? I can argue a complete case on facts alone, I’m afraid. Imagine a typical fifth grader, now multiply that times five, make one kid blonde, the other fat, one skinny, the next one tall and the last one short. Ok, hold on with me and multiply each kid by two. Got it? Your typical 11 or so year old boys always seem to congregate around a certain fixed area of a school’s playground during brake time, to basically joke about life and/or pick on each other. For the sake of argument lets say behind the little school cafeteria. So yeah, there’s laughter, giggling and probably a tear or two. Now, zoom into the fat kid, never laughs genuinely- by now he’s become an expert in the art of faking a laugh- and rarely says anything, because what he thinks is funny just doesn’t score too high on the other kids’ laugh-o-meter. Yes, the poor guy had to cross jokes out from a joke list he carried around…who does that anyway? Ladies and gentlemen, surprise, surprise, the fat kid was me.

The creepy thing is how the heck did the fat kid- I mean me- become such a grandpa at that age. Its a long and complicated story, but I’ll bother you with the boring details anyways. Most kids played soccer, I played Nintendo and Playstation, and not kids’ games, having way older brothers I was used to games with storylines and the like. Most kids did nothing on Friday afternoons and Saturday mornings, not me, I had kickboxing lessons. Weekday afternoons I would be tutored while other kids ate Dorito after Dorito watching cartoons. Other kids watched cartoons while I had developed the healthy habit of reading…books for older people, because I had an obsession with all things military, even if you can’t tell that now. You can probably still hear the humor gene crying out in agony…poor little guy. Oh yeah and for a good part of my childhood I didn’t have all the cool cartoon channels kids had in cable TV. No sir, my dad decided to get Direct TV, which would have been awesome, except Cartoon Network somehow died and I only had the Disney Channel. No Dragon Ball Z or Saint Seya (weird anime kids watched back then) for me, just plain old Mickey Mouse and Goofy and the gang shooting what I can now only describe as dry jokes, at me. I’m guessing right about that point the funny gene died, and the other genes bought it a little translucent coffin and gave him a good ol’ fashioned gene burial with military honours and all, since he fought a long hard battle, but died fighting.

As if that wasn’t enough, more and more grown up books made it my way. But it doesn’t end with that, not at all, there were movies and games, too. And I mean brainy movies and really complex games that made me think for me to get from level 1 to level 2. During the time most kids were almost done developing some kind of a quick-wit for humorous replies, I was very versed on the causes of World War II and becoming a real conossieur in the intricacies of tuning a Toyota Supra, in racing games of course. If you don’t find that being weird, I think you probably should book an appointment with the psychaitrist. Oh and I liked Friends on TV, but the freaky thing is that at 11-12 years old, I could understand most of the jokes, it probably helped I had watched American Pie during the summer. Funny thing is that I laughed at the really brainy stuff in the series and the movie, and didn’t much care for the more obvious jokes.

By the time I was 13 I had devoured many books on military history, long novels- not Harry Potter, I found those really simple- and watched war movies, dramas and many sitcoms on TV. I also developed quite a curious taste in music: old school heavy metal, punk rock, alternative, gangsta rap and modern metal. Most kids fell in love with Blink 182, 311 and Sum 41, but I wasn’t to crazy about them, I found their music to be too childish and superficial. Now that’s quite a mature statement, but maybe too mature for a 13 year old boy. Did I mention I had also learned the basics of computer programming and hardware and designed levels for a game in that time, too? No? well...I did! I spent days doing that. What was happening in the real world, at school? Oh nothing much, just that some of my friends were getting girlfriends, while I was oblivious to girls flirting with me. My pals would joke around, and since I was never funny I didn’t know what was funny, so as any normal pre-teen would do I copied from them, TV and the movies. Sounds like a perfect plan, right? Wrong! With my weirdly grownup taste in entertainment, my jokes only made sense in my head-surprisingly they were gibberish when I said them out loud. There was something missing, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Now I know it is called: pop-culture. Looks like grandpa, became great-grandpa.

From the time I was 14 to when I was 18, the formative years of teenage guys, I only succeeded in becoming more and more serious. First I was a computer and history nerd, I dove neck deep into all sorts of history books and computer stuff, Office, Visual Basic, you name it I could probably learn how to do it, by devouring a book in a surprisingly short time, for a kid. I made jokes, which of course made only me laugh, about history and literature, by now you should be shrieking in terror and grabbing onto something, hard, at the sight of such an abomination. The only pop-culture I knew was in the videogaming scene, TV and movies, far from the reality of going out to party with your friends, as my pals did. I knew what was funny in quality TV sitcoms and really funny movies, but not in real life. Then I slowly started morphing into a strange mix of a party animal with a librarian. Why? I danced, drank and went out to party, but the moment I opened my mouth, the sound of crickets or the club’s/bar’s music would follow closely afterwards. Most opened their mouths letting out words that would be received by laughter, and loads of it, particularly because the audience was, most of the time, drunk out of their minds. This is when the serious gene completely replaced the funny gene- insert maniacal laughter here.

As I grew up I started watching loads of old comedy films and TV sitcoms, you know when writers weren’t high, and really worked on scripts. I surprisingly found myself rolling on the floor laughing to old films like “Back to School” and really old sitcoms like “Seinfeld” or the SNL episodes of the 90s. I can picture it now, the serious gene met the funny gene’s widowed wife, and they had some drinks, got a bit drunk, hooked up some times and eventually moved into an apartment together. The result: a weird sense of humor and a messed up laugh-o-meter. So after an upbringing as a mature, serious and worldly citizen-or at least I fancy myself as that-, I have narrowed down funny to fitting within certain parameters, creatively. If I laugh at something it must appear to be normal on the surface, but really be funny or it has to make something that is really mundane, funny. For example, dry British humor and really witty sitcoms like 30 Rock crack me up like crazy. And that is exactly how my jokes are: I think hard for a single joke, dress it up creatively and see if it fits within the parameters, then I shoot….the result? crickets most of the time, loads of them, and yeah, the background music at bars and clubs, too. You might object saying that funny is natural and spontaneous, to normal people of course, but to someone that grew up without a clue of what is funny and what is not, spontaneous just doesn’t cut it and I don’t have a clue of what is naturally funny.
So I ask you? No sense of humor or just a weird one? I myself, am still fighting with my pillow to decide.

Restless Vacations

I don't know what was I thinking when about 3 months ago my Moot coach slightly mentioned, almost hiding it, that we would have to work all through our vacations, in order to finish drafting the Respondent's Memorandum. You may ask yourself, "the what memorandum?", let me answer by saying it's the Grinch who stole most of my Holiday vacations. That's right, I had to work on the few days before Christmas and just a few hours before December 31st, cool vacations huh?

What's the Moot? Simply put it's a kind of competition based on simulated arbitration proceedings (kinda like trials), and many law schools around the world send a group of students to participate in them. Thanks be to God, I got into the team going to Moot in Vienna. But the story doesn't end there, in order to go to Vienna, our team has to send two lawsuits called the Claimant's and the Respondent's Memorandum. To say the least, it hasn't been easy, but it surely is rewarding and I stand by my decision to get involved (can't really take any other position so far into the game now, anyways).

I've always been told that anything that's worthwhile is hard to achieve and those goals that we strive and fight to accomplish are those which we value the most. Human beings, generally speaking, like to feel successful, have those notches under our belts representing the achievements we have conquered, when they remember that simple truth. However we seem to, out of fear, laziness or just because we are so comfortable, ignore that we have to fight for what we want and instead opt to sit back and watch TV or do nothing productive with our time. See what we're dealing with here? Two common and extremely natural examples of human behavior. So, what to do? Easy, as all things in life a little thinking needs to be done before we act so you should be asking yourself the following question: "what is in my best interest?" Nobody, absolutely nobody ever wants to act against their own good, but being human we are so erratic we seem to never know what is good for us and what is bad for us. Many factors, including pride, prejudice, our own preferences and misconceptions, seem to make us irrationally and subjectively, confuse those choices which are in our best interest with those which are, frankly, harmful to us. Thus, it is important to sit down just a little while longer (you can do it!) and analyze in a cold, matter-of-factly and rational manner what really is good for you and what isn't. Believe me once that little light bulb flicks on, right on top of you, you'll begin to first fear the consequences of taking harmful decisions and then love the positive effects of taking the right ones. The trick is to never stop falling in love with those choices which are good for you and their effects, and that is something I really can't help you with, because all I can do is tell you to visualize yourself after suffering all the consequences of bad decisions and compare that image with one of yourself after being successful. Tell me then, which picture do you like the most?

Nothing comes easy in life and every success has a price, and it can only be paid in full. So yeah, you'll have to jump through a lot of hoops and fight very hard, in order for that victorious vision of yourself to become a reality. I won't lie to you, it's gonna be hard and sometimes you might find yourself wanting to give up, once and for all. But let me tell you something, when you had the guts to picture yourself as being successful at accomplishing your goals, what you did is that you picked up your rifle, strapped on your rucksack and threw yourself into the thick of battle...you turned into a fighter. Never forget the courage you had, when you decided to take a stand against any challenge, because that same flurry of bravery will always keep pushing you forward, even if you fall down once in a while. No matter what obstacles you run into, how many nights you won't sleep, how much your head will hurt and how much you'll have to sacrifice, be brave and always keep in mind that those bruises are the ones that will mold you into that person you dared to visualize yourself as.

It is precisely those thoughts what keep me going, night after night, when I have to sit down and type some part of my draft. It hasn't been easy at all having to give up my vacation time and invest it in writing a lawsuit, when most people are either sleeping, partying or doing anything people do during the holidays. But, you know, some months ago I promised myself I would beat this challenge, that I want to be the best I could be. I picked up my rifle and I don't plan on putting it down at all and I really don't think I'm going to be unstrapping my rucksack either, because right now, I'm in the thick of battle and I do not plan to get defeated. I have to be that guy I pictured myself to be, so I can't afford to give up: it simply isn't an option. Hence, who cares if I have to spend some time working, while everybody else is vacationing? I, for one, really do not, since my reward, that prize I'm struggling for, is much more valuable than resting.

Come to think of it, I know what I was thinking: "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13) I saw this challenge, I knew it would be worthwhile, I knew it would be a hard fight but also knew that God has my back and that I can do anything if I put my faith in Him and let Him fight by battles. And if I stumble I know He will be there to pick me up and put me back on my feet, ready to keep on fighting. Restless vacations indeed, but a rewarding experience and the chance of a lifetime are waiting for me, on the other side of the world. A Restless holiday, but an undeniable success because of it.

Now I have to keep working on my draft, seems a restless night awaits me...

Con las botas puestas y de cara al sol

Pocas personas lo saben, o nunca he tenido chance de contarles la historia, en su totalidad, pero mucho antes de tomar la decisión final de meterme a la ESEN, yo me estaba debatiendo entre seguir un sueño mío desde que era pequeño...ser soldado. Los primeros 4 años de mi vida los viví siguiendo a mi papá al Ministerio de Defensa, a la base aérea de Ilopango y a otros destacamentos militares, y desde que vi a aquellos hombres, humildes, pero seguros, valientes, pero disciplinados, me dije en mi mente de niño "¡ese voy a ser yo!"

El sueño de niño, eventualmente, se transformó en entrenamiento de artes marciales, cursos en de tiro, paintball, entrenamiento de condición física, etc y en aquella meta de poder llegar a vestirme con un uniforme de gala y caminar, con mi pecho y mi mirada en alto, mientras sostenía mi sable de oficial en mi mano derecha. A mi corta edad de 15 años me había devorado miles del libros y literatura sobre estrategia e historia militar, mi mente de joven se había convertido en esta máquina calculadora y racional.

"Con las botas y de cara al sol" me decía a mi mismo, y más o menos un año antes de graduarme comencé a buscar la manera de conseguir vivir mi sueño y de prepararme, física y mentalmente, para sobrevivir todo lo que me habría de sobrevenir. Entonces, llegué a dos opciones, la Academia Militar de West Point o ingresar al Marine Corps, hacer un año de servicio, obtener mi Green Card y meterme a la Academia Naval en Annapolis. Después de considerar los puntos a favor y en contra de cada opción, llegué a una decisión...

Poco a poco, el entrenamiento se convirtió en una meta, pues me había decidido:quería ser Marine. Verán, existe un toque mágico en las frases "Semper Fidelis" (siempre fiel), Servare Vitas ("save lives") y sic vis pacum parabellum (if you want peace prepare for war) y del opresso liber (to liberate the opressed), que sólo aquellas personas que hemos tenido la dicha de vivir cerca de militares podemos entender, además de ellos mismos. La mística de lo que contienen esas palabras es que la vida del soldado se convierte en una existencia fiel a salvar vidas, luchar por la paz y ayudar a aquellos que necesiten de su ayuda, aunque le llegue a costar la vida. Es exactamente, ese sentimiento, el que forjó mis sueños de ser una persona valiente y al servicio de lo más débiles, brindándoles defensa y protección. Entonces, mi mente me llevó a buscar aquella carrera que me garantizaría poder cumplir con esos anhelos, al estar impregnada de ellos. Y ese fue el otro sueño que identifiqué como un medio para el primero.

Al ver el video que está al principio del blog, un commercial de reclutamiento de los Marines me recordé de todos esos sueños y, les confieso, me sentí nostálgico. Y me puse a pensar, que yo a Dios sólo le pedí que me los concediera, pero El tiene su manera perfecta de hacerlos realidad, muy diferente a la que yo me imaginaba y esperaba.

Yo anhelaba ese uniforme tan hermoso, anhelaba los uniformes de combate, anhelaba mi propio fusil, anhelaba a mi pelotón de soldados y anhelaba ser ese militar ,

que por la sangre de soldado que corre por mis venas, sé que hubiese llegado a ser. Por eso, muchas veces, me escapo a llorar cuando veo esos comerciales, porque parte de mi todavía anhela vestirse con el uniforme de Marine. Pero no se sabe si mi tonto sueño de marchar con mi fusil y mis botas, algún día se volverá realidad por obra del Altisimo; o si mis otros sueños, me los concederá Dios de otra manera. ¿Será que por eso me ha dado aptitudes muy acentuadas para Derecho Penal y Derecho Constitucional? ¿Será que defenderé al indefenso, protegeré a mis valores y principios y liberaré al oprimido siendo un defensor de la Justicia? Cada día me convenzo que Dios tiene un mejor plan para mi, algo que se parece muchisimo a mi antiguo sueño, solo que es algo "bueno, [perfecto] y agradable".

Seré, entonces, siempre ese soldado, sólo que hoy mi fusil es la ley, mi Ejercito, el de Cristo, mi Comandante, Dios y mi misión, el Servicio, para con Dios y mi prójimo, y la Justicia. Con las botas puestas y de cara al sol.

La ESEN te puede volver loco

La vida del estudiante de la ESEN se puede resumir en dos palabras representativas del estado de ánimo en el que estamos: estrés o locura. ¿Y la tristeza? Creeme que vas a sentirte más loco o enojado, que triste. Yo por ejemplo, hoy en la tarde estaba en un estado bipolar, entre andar súper hiperactivo y sentirme completamente cansado. En pocas palabras, me chollé y por completo... y no es raro que también te pase a vos.

Todos estamos sometidos a un nivel normal de estrés en la ESEN, pero este se empeora o se pone más al suave, dependiendo de nuestro carácter. Hay gente que le saca el dedo a los compañeros o les tiran cosas y les pegan, cuando llegan a ese punto en que están hasta hechando humo de la cabeza, por el gran estrés que los ataca. ¿Qué hacer? Bueno les puedo dar los siguientes consejos, sólo que les pido que si están estresados, están leyedo esto y se enojan conmigo porque no están de acuerdo con lo que les puse, no me vayan a: tirar cosas, sacar el dedo, pegarme o rayarme el carro.

1. ¿De qué te sirve estresarte? Bien dice la Biblia que con preocuparnos demasiado no vamos a lograr que las cosas cambien, porque las cosas las cambiamos actuando. Así que en vez de preocuparnos tanto, que hasta infarto nos puede dar, mejor concentrémonos en terminar de estudiar para el examen de mañana o de escribir el trabajo que tenemos que entregar temprano el siguiente día. Hay que ocuparse, no preocuparse.

2. Tranquilizate, que no podés pensar bien si parecés cuerpoespín de los nervios. La mente humana piensa bien cuando está tranquila y mejor todavía cuando está bajo presión, pero no cuando tiene que procesar 3 millones de cosas al segundo y ¿sabes? no sos computadora para que tu mente funcione así. Entonces, tranquilizate, distraete y cuando ya no estés con la cara roja y hechando humo, comenzá a trabajar otra vez.

3. Buscate una almohada o algo con la misma consistencia y ¡agarralo a golpes! así como te dan ganas de agarrar a los catedráticos que te caen mal. Confiá en mí cuando te digo que si sirve, si no hubiese sido porque hice eso no hubiera sobrevivido el último día antes de mi presentación de FAE.

4. No tenés todo bajo control. Hay cosas que sí dependen de lo que vos hagás, pero hay otras que están completamente fuera de tu dominio. Así que en vez de obsesionarte por aquello que no podés controlar, volvete este loco obsesivo compulsivo, pero por aquello que sí podes controlar. No cabe de más mencionar que aquí es adonde entra tu fe, porque si no podés controlar ciertas cosas, mejor confía en que Dios, se va a encargar de ellas y te va a dejar sólo con la carga que El sabe que vos podés llevar.

5. La gente te puede decepcionar, aprendé a lidiar con ello. No a todo mundo le importa o le vale tanto el trabajo o el examen que tengan pendiente para mañana y por eso te exigen demasiado o simplemente, están viendo videos en youtube, hablando hasta por los codos, en msn, cuentiándose al novio o a la novia por el celular o endulzándose al otro o la otra, o facebookeando. Te voy a contar un secreto, que no debería contarte, pero porque estás leyendo mi blog voy a decírtelo: no vas a cambiar a las personas, por más que les des duro o las regañés. La moraleja: tenés que darle responsabilidades a las personas, según su nivel de compromiso con el trabajo que tienen que hacer. De la misma manera, vos tenés que luchar por responsabilizarte sólo por aquellas tareas que sentís que podés hacer y querés hacer.

De poetas y locos...todos tenemos un poco. Apuesa! De locos todos tenemos un montón, de poetas...bueno sólo fíjense en qué tan bien escribe la persona que tienen a la par y van a ver que no todos tenemos dotes de poeta. "¡Pero si yo no estoy loco!" Ya me las olí que eso me van a contestar, pero la triste realidad es que el tick que te ha dado y la risa nerviosa que te ataca antes de cada examen, hablan mucho más fuerte que tus palabras. La Psicología moderna ha producido millares de libros y artículos acerca de como estar cerca de ciertos estímulos llega a producir reacciones mentales y emocionales acordes, en nuestra persona. Nuestra mente es un fenómeno tan vasto, que no se ha podido decifrar, precisamente, por qué es que nuestras vivencias nos llevan a comportarnos de una determinada manera. Así unas personas se vuelven hiperactivas, otras muy apagadas, algunos, bipolares, pero lo cierto es que algo cambia en nuestro carácter cuando nos vemos expuestos a un estrés tan presente y tan permanente, como lo es al que nos econtramos enfrentados en la ESEN.

En realidad, no es preocupante que suframos alguno de estos cambios, porque de otra manera nuestros sentimientos y pensamientos no se pueden adaptar a las circunstancias, a veces adversas, con las que tenemos que lidiar. No es malo dejarse enloquecer un poco, si eso te ayuda a lidiar con todas las responsabilidades que tenés y sus respectivas consecuencias. Pero, tal y como dice el viejo adagio, todos los excesos son malos, por lo que es necesario controlar esas pequeñas "locuras", porque por mucho que nos puedan beneficiar, traen consigo el pequeño riesgo de afectarnos muy sutilmente. El exceso de estos "desahogos" psicoemocionales, puede traer consigo consecuencias desagradables en nuestras relaciones sociales, nuestra imagen propia y pueden llevarnos a sufrir de ciertos perjuicios, así que para evitar todo eso hay que mantenernos racionales y pendientes de nuestra propia conducta y actitud.

La pequeña diferencia, entre el más loco o el más estresado entre el más normal de ellos, es que habemos algunos que por sentirnos valientes e inteligentes, igual a Superman, nos aventuramos a meternos en cosas que al fin y al cabo nos dejan sintiéndonos miedosos y tontos, igual a Scooby-Doo. Hay una lección bien escondida en todo esto: no todos terminamos igual de afectados por la ESEN (¡OJO! en ningún momento dije que te vas a escapar del estrés o la locura). Es bien curioso, porque como humanos, nos afanamos tan fácilmente con aquello que vemos emocionante y diferente, y se nos olvida que sólo somos humanos frágiles y con muchísimas limitaciones, que en nuestras propias fuerzas a veces ni levantarnos de la cama podemos. Pero, ¿qué nos impulsa a tirarnos de ese abismo? No es la locura, porque esa te da por culpa de lo que estás haciendo. Tampoco es por estrés, porque el estrés te lleva no tener ganas de hacer más de lo que tenés que hacer. Bueno, para que no se enojen conmigo (sigan leyendo mi blog), les voy a contar...todos tenemos esta adicción a querer dejar nuestra huella, a forjar nuestro legado, a superarnos, en fin, a hacer algo bien y, de alguna manera, encontramos un medio para suplir esa adicción, en alguna actividad o un pasatiempos, incluso en la mismas clases de la U (en mi opinión tenes que estar un poquito loco para que veas un medio en esto último, pero bueno...cada loco tiene su pila).

Lo más difícil es encontrar a qué te vas a dedicar para marcar tu camino por la vida, y ¿te cuento un secreto que se sabe a gritos? NADIE te lo va a decir. No hay libros, ni clases, ni doctores que te puedan decir qué vas a usar para dejar tu legado, eso es algo que vos solit@ tenés que hacer. Yo entiendo que se va a escuchar ilógico y hasta miedo puede dar, pero este mundo está hecho para aquellos que se lanzan a la conquista, entonces, si queremos llegar a ser alguien en la vida, tenemos que encontrar el coraje, la determinación, y las ganas de trabajar, dentro de nuestro deseo por ser diferentes y sobresalir. Pero antes de todo eso, para que nuestro esfuerzo tenga sentido, tenemos que darle un nombre a aquello que vamos a utilizar para dejar de ser sólo un número más...Y es con esa pregunta que te dejo este día ¿qué es lo que más te llena hacer en esta vida y cual es tu más anhelado sueño? Sólo así es que todas la locuras que noas afecten y el estrés que nos quiera vencer, van a tener sentido y sólo así vamos a aprender a dominarlos.

Te recuerdo que aunque la batalla se vea dura y larga, Dios te ha dotado de fuerza, valentía y dominio propio y eso es lo único que necesitás para superar las debilidades que como humanos siempre vamos a tener. Lo único que tenés que hacer es tener la fe y el valor de ver tu situación desde arriba, no desde tu punto de vista y de nunca dejar de ver tu meta, en vez de fijarte en los obstáculos entre ella y vos.

The only easy trimester was last trimester...or was it???

Too true!

Its 1.30 am, I've just barely survived (wait a minute...I think I did! :O) a 4 hour torture session, my Criminal Law professor calls an exam...if you like to call having your ass kicked and handed back to you on a platter an exam, then he's right. Oh and let's not forget to mention the 30+ hour light preparation, for a 4 hour "exam". Obviously, my brain must be this mushy grey mess, that can't process anything right now, and my eyes look more like a ruby than what they really are. It just has to be easier from here on...right? WRONG! But only this time.

Ass-kicking and brain damage aside, the funny thing is you actually get used to getting all beaten up and the curious thing is that you strangely not only learn how to cope with it but...I must say what other dare not say, at the cost of my life, you also learn to not only like it but love it and accept it as part of your life. You see, the really interesting side to this Darwinian survival of the fittest is that it actually teaches you three of the most important lessons you just can't learn in the classroom: how to bond together with your classmates, to fight like a brave for your grades, and never lose your faith in God. If you haven't already noticed (it took me about 15 minutes to come to this next point, so don't beat yourself up if you didn't anticipate it), these are three important skills for human development. The first one teaches you how to help others survive and help them help you survive; the second one is really basic when it comes to knowing how to set goals for yourself and kick ass until you achieve them; the third skill is the most important one of them all, because faith in God is what gives the hope necessary to have enough strength to make it to the end of the day and helps you to never doubt those abilities that He has bestowed upon you.

Call me crazy, call me a genius, call me whatever you want (except a communist, I don't like those guys), but it is because of those three skills, which make you a better person that you find yourself slowly falling in love, like a sucker, with not sleeping, working 20 hour days and being stressed out and pissed off almost every day, because going through all of that makes you feel better. And it should, each time you survive this hell you become 1/4 of a better person, more than what you can say for most people. SPOILER ALERT! all of this suffering just fails to teach you how to be organized, at least in a nice way, with each sleepless night and zombie-like existence during class, you eventually find that you get angry at yourself for being disorganized and working under a Just In Time system that really is making you live like a vampire: being really active at night and really asleep during the day. All of this makes you change your strategy and actually begin to plan your time ahead, which is not a nice way to improve yourself, but hey, lessons learned in the flesh are never forgotten.

Now, some of you guys must be either flipping me off, cursing at me, or just wishing you could send me an e-mail punch, (ha ha ha! let me see you try!), but the thing is you can't deny that each time you pull off and all nighter or get a 10 on an exam, you actually feel like you've become just a tad better. A proof of God's mastery, is that he designed us with this uncanny desire to make a difference, do something better for once and this propels us to go just a little past the extra mile. Effort, and all of its ugly consequences, leads to success, but the trick is to never get complacent and always feel the need to keep up the effort. A smart guy once said that crisis brings out the best in all of us, because it forces us to persevere, that guy must've been seriously wasted when he said that, because he kind of failed to mention that crisis also causes hair to fall off and stomachs to churn. But, you gotta give him some credit, when there's a carrot dangling in front of us and a stick spanking our butt, when the pressure is way too much than what you're used to, your whole body transforms into this efficient exam writing, paper finishing machine, fueled by your own desire to survive and maybe even do a great job at it. So yeah, crisis helps you do your best, ironic isn't it?

A friend of mine once shared with me the following list of choices:

1. Sleep well

2. Get good grades

3. Get a good social life

Pick 2 of the 3 choices.

WELCOME TO COLLEGE!

I can honestly tell you that the choices you pick will ultimately determine who you get along with, how good you do at school, how important college is for you, how much you actually enjoy going to college, how hard you'll work. I personally picked the last 2 choices (it's kinda obvious that I sent choice 1 right to hell right?), because I wasn't going to risk graduating as a no one and I sure don't want to be graduating eight years after beginning college. You might think you have to make this choice only when you begin your first day of college, but let me tell you one teeny tiny secret...you can actually make your choices as you go. I was dumb enough to pick choices 1 and 3, at the beginning, the result? I failed Math II and got a really sucky final CUM for my first year, so sucky I'm not gonna embarrass by dignifying it with some publicity. So where was I? Oh yeah, human beings tend to be erratical creatures, we constantly change some things about us to suit our needs. My advice to you would be that one of the choices you pick is absolutely permanent, so that you only change one of them. Why? You must have an ultimate goal that always motivates you to keep going on, no matter what, so that you have some stability in you future plans, but some moveable priorities so you also have some spontaneity: that my friends is perfect balance, exactly what you need to avoid a lot of unnecessary stress and avoid monotony. This also guarantees a stable and sure character and personality.

Ever heard that life, especially college, is like a pyramid? That it becomes harder the further up the ladder you go? Seems logical, right? Let me tell you that some of the things college does is that it defies the laws of physics, of life and it can seem to be acting somewhat illegally sometimes, as well as defying common logic. So last trimester can be probably harder than this one? In my beloved prison (ESEN), that seems to be case. Hell, sometimes even the last day was harder than the current day. Seems like chaos, but it might give you some hope to know that tomorrow might be a much more relaxing and exciting day. It might be that the next day you won't have to wake up early or that you don't have any exams or papers due in that day, in short, it can possibly be much better than today. It's nice to know that there's a LOT of hope amidst the chaos of college life, and hope is what keeps us alive.

The bottom line is that you should thank God and be grateful for all the sacrifices you have to endure. I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but look at the light at the end of the tunnel, and you'll see your goals, probably a glimpse of your dreams, and a mirror image showing the new better you, which will what you'll turn into after kicking some ass. And that's what we need, just a hint of what awaits us at the other side, to keep us fighting. An old song talked about always believing and holding on to our motivations, and the songwriter couldn't have been righter. College is a tough journey, but by being gutsy, never losing faith, never giving up, learning to take some shots and always keeping hope alive, you'll make it through, in a surprisingly successful way. It doesn't matter if you happen to fail, on one or more occasions, along the way, humans are prone to failing because we are not perfect, just learn from your mistakes, but don't let them hold you back, as mistakes are made to help know which is the way to greatness, not take you away from it.

I think I had something to do...oh yeah...I think it was reviewing a paper due to be emailed tomorrow...mmm not really sure...whatever!