I was slated to have dinner with Rui, Chloe and Jolie, which, as I mentioned two entries ago, I was really excited about. On top of that, I intended to go clubbing at Ministry of Sound after dinner with Rui, Pet, Ping Ying and Adrienne, seeing as I have no classes on Friday. I even left the house at six, went to the MRT station, and boarded the MRT headed for Jurong East (where I would change trains to another line). But as I sat in the train packed with people, even while I was walking to the MRT station and to the platform, I couldn't get over how weird I must have looked, the left side of my mouth slightly drooping, my mouth which couldn't fully close. I felt like shit. I wanted to cry. So I called my mom and told her that I wanted to go home, then I called Rui and told her that I couldn't go for dinner because I was feeling unwell.
Objectively speaking, it's not that big of a deal. It's not life-threatening, my intellect isn't impaired in any way, shape or form, and I'm not going to die from it. The doctor also said that what I have is a very mild form of the...I dunno, illness? Damage to the nerve in the face. Mild damage.
But I can't even begin to describe how absolutely low and self-conscious I felt throughout the day, when I was talking to lawyers and pupils at the Law Careers Fair, talking to Lavan (who told me it could be Bell's Palsy! Amazing) and Kelly, trying to smile but failing so miserably and therefore creating awkwardness in conversations, then when it got worse, feeling the left corner of my mouth drooping, and knowing that it's obvious, the asymmetry my face suddenly took on. It felt shit. It still feels shit. There's no other word to describe it.
My biggest fear right now is permanent damage to my face because my face is probably my biggest asset. I can't imagine what it's like not to be born with relatively good looks, and I don't want to be self-conscious about how I look - because I haven't been self-conscious about my appearance for a very, very long time. The whole losing weight business was geared towards that, and ever since that happened, I've felt confident enough to go to school in some ratty t-shirt and shorts. It's like being a certain way your whole life, looking a certain way your whole life, and letting that define who you are, and suddenly not having that to ground you anymore. It's like losing a vital part of yourself and it scares me enough to make me cry.
I cannot and I do not want to live with my looks damaged. It's really quite out of my control, and all I can do at this juncture, when things have already reached this stage, is just to (try very hard to) sleep early, get regular rest, avoid heaty foods, and, I don't know, try not to feel completely defeated by this affliction. Try not to imagine the worst, not to let thoughts of the Worst devastate me, and just to focus on the ten million shit I've got to get done within the next two weeks.
Needless to say, this shit is incredibly humbling. Can you imagine what I'd do if I were permanently disfigured? I think I might kill myself. It's easy to say that life means more than being good-looking, but seriously, if X defines who you are and how you see yourself, if you're no longer X, then you're no longer the same person. This time, it's a physical thing. If it's a mental thing, something that causes my intellectual capacity to degenerate, I would be saying the same thing too - except I probably wouldn't be able to express it.
In any case, I'm going to avoid seeing people over the next few days, which probably is a good thing, considering my plan is to get Infocoms out of the way by Sunday night. At first I thought it was an allergic reaction to the Mojito I drank last Friday night when I was out with Kenneth, because I woke up the next morning with a migraine that lasted all the way until today. Apparently though, it's a viral infection. And according to my Taiwanese uncle who's a doctor, it's probably caused by inadequate sleep, inadequate rest, weird-ass sleep patterns. I suppose screwing up my bio clock does have its logical consequences. Fuck.
I have to live with this shit for the next two months. Let's hope I learn something positive out of the whole...shit.
On another note, it scares me quite a bit that, when I was feeling really shitty a few hours ago, I suddenly wanted to see/talk to someone who really shouldn't have been the almost-intuitive choice.
Thankfully I resisted the urge, and it should stay that way.
Anyway, my pro bono session yesterday was...definitely different. Unlike last week, I didn't go away feeling extremely emo about the injustice in the world and come up with inspirational spiel about why lawyers should do pro bono work and why it's their duty to "give back" to society. I still believe in those things, don't get me wrong; but yesterday was just...it was one of those days when you just want to clobber people for being so utterly stupid, especially when they can avoid it. Unless you have a mental condition, there's no reason why you should commit the same mistake over and over again, and ask for free legal representation when you had free legal representation the first time you were charged with the offence. Why can't people learn from their mistakes? Why do they insist on wasting other people's time with their crap-ass attitudes and behaviours? It's really extremely irresponsible. Of course, their need for aid may be legitimate, but if you can't afford the lawyer fees, just don't freaking get yourself into trouble.
The guy was saying how he couldn't defend himself against the charge (if he doesn't get aid and can't hire a lawyer, he has to defend himself. And Baoyue, I was wrong before: If it's a capital offence, the court will appoint a lawyer!) and I doubt very much he's able to afford a lawyer. So if you know that 1) you can't afford a lawyer; and 2) you don't have the capacity to absolve yourself of punishment should you be brought to court, then why do you insist on acting stupid, especially if it's happened before? Why can't you avoid trouble and just live life responsibly? It's very troubling and perplexing to be talking to someone who doesn't seem to appreciate the gravity of his situation and who shows no awareness whatsoever that, really, he brought it upon himself. Utterly mind-bending. And that rather disturbed me.
Still, I insist on sticking by my convictions and ideals. They are like my face: Integral to who I am as a person. Substantial and significant meaning more than negligible (haha sorry, today's Comparative Crim seminar on causation is still in my head), absolutely essential. So, there you go.
Also, I discovered on Tuesday night, while attempting to prepare for International Law and Asia, that there were four articles missing from the readings. After class yesterday I went to tell S!mon T@y about it, hence marking the FIRST TIME I ever talked to him. I also told him what I'm thinking of doing for my paper and like I thought, he said that it's been done to death. Which is true - I read his Asian values/human rights article and I couldn't think of what else I could possibly add to the discussion. As interested as I am in the topic, it's also wiser to write something that the marker isn't going to be averse towards, something that will surprise him. Right? Right, I think so too.
In any case, S!mon T@y knows my name!11!1! There's really quite little need to prepare for his classes because he summarises everything but I still try to read. His module is my favourite this semester. It's right up there with Emergencies and Legal Theory - which means the pressure on myself to get a good grade is even more immense. Bleah, whatever.
I'm going to shower now, then watch American Idol. Generally I'm massively unimpressed with the guys last night; the songs were all boring, which is I suppose the most I can expect from freaking sixties night, and the only black guy in the competition seriously pissed me off. I found the entire contention that he couldn't be modern because it was sixties night bloody ridiculous. Has he watched a single episode of American Idol? More importantly, has he watched Blake freaking Lewis? Has he heard Blake's interpretation of You Keep Me Hangin' On? I'm not sure which era it's from, but it's definitely not Now. Okay, let's not even talk about Blake. What about Awful Dreadlocks Guy who was Surprisingly AMAZING!, who totally did not sound like he was doing a 60's song at all? The whole "it's sixties night" excuse in response to Simon saying that he was old-fashioned, which was completely spot-on, was just a major, MAJOR turn-off. As such, he should be the first to go.
Unfortunately, the hottest male contestant EVERRRRR to grace American Idol was also the most forgettable. The only thing anyone's gonna remember about him is that he looks like a cross between Orlando Bloom and Patrick Dempsey. But god, his song was...sleep-inducing, utterly boring, and I wonder what the hell he or the stylist was thinking when he or the stylist made him look like he was going camping. Very disappointing.
Having said that, I must proclaim my love for David Cook. I don't know what the fuck the judges (except Simon) were thinking when they said that the ex-boyband guy who used to tour with fucking Britney Spears was an authentic "rocker". Like, seriously. Robbie Whatever? Everything about him screams FUCKING PRETENTIOUS. I hate him and I wish he'd be out this week but that's not happening. How the hell can Robbie Whatever be remotely considered "the real thing" when David Cook's in the same competition? David Cook is amazing. I love his voice, he's actually kind of cute if he doesn't rebond his hair and even if he's tubby around the tummy, and he did Happy Together! Ahh, major happiness. Absolutely love him. Unfortunately I don't see him lasting long. But nevertheless, I LOVE HIM! Totally.
Time to hit the showers.