Bottled ※ Brain

Because there are millions of us in the country, it's hard to imagine there are people with really weird names. Aside from those who have a zealous fascination for the letter h (B h oy, N h eneng, Ind h ay), there are people who carry surnames that will make you go Did I hear that right? before you explode in laughter. Junk food In my high school, a teacher was checking attendance one day, calling each person first by surname followed by the given name: Bastareche, Peewee. Now that sounds like junkfood. The good friend Juicy true story from Ate Meann: A lady just gave birth to a boy. Exhausted after delivery, she asked her friend to go to the City Hall to register the name of the newborn baby. The mother must have ruminated on that name for years. When the friend eventually got to the Hall, she totally forgot the name. The problem was, she couldn't go back, and during that time, cellphones weren't common yet. So, the friend thought of a glorious, decent name that the bab

I give God the glory for my nomination as the Academics Committee Head of the Molecular Biology and Biotechnology Society (UP MBBS) . Thinking of it--and the fact that I managed to scrape a lot of votes--overwhelms me. From experience, the AcadCom is a tough committee to handle. This is the first time I'm doing this sort of thing in college, and I sometimes don't know what to expect. However, I've proposed a number of projects for the academic year, some of them rather ambitious, and I hope the committee approves of them. But I trust that the Lord see me through this. My prayer is that I may be able to exemplify godly leadership. May I not be proud, may I always be quick to listen, be humble to accept reproof, be open to suggestions. I'm thankful that I'm working with a strong team. Dianne Deauna is the elected president who has a grand vision for MBBS this year. I can't think of any person to occupy that position but her. Her enthusiasm and devotion for the org

She was drenched in sweat--the girl who collapsed in front of me this afternoon. It happened in front of Ipil while I was taking some time by myself. Out of nowhere, a girl dressed in a thick, red jacket, jeans and slippers, came to the bench where I was. She begged me for help. "Kuya, tulungan niyo po ako. Mahihimatay na po ako. Madilim na po ang paningin ko." Her voice was pained, and she looked terrible: her hair in a state of chaos, her hands twitching, her knees about to give up. Moments later, she was splattered all over the place. I asked for her name. Thank God she was still reponsive! "Katrina," she said. "Okay, dito ka lang, I'll go call for help." I looked around. There wasn't a soul in sight. I was hoping a taxi would pass by so I could take her to the Infirmary myself. But there was none, so I came back to her and asked her where she was before she collapsed. "May mga kilala po ako doon sa may Sundial [in the College of Engineeri

Where have all the people gone? There's hardly a soul walking around campus these days, save for weary dormers dreaming of their homes two thousand miles away. The silence is almost deafening. I spent the day with friends from UP SOCCSKSARGEN for the sem planning. This morning, though, we had a little emergency. Katrina had an allergic attack probably because of an insect bite. She had rashes all over, so we rushed her to the Infirmary. Praise be to God because she got well immediately after taking the meds. We resumed the planning as soon as she got out that afternoon. A tough cookie...that girl. I'd like to spend half the day tomorrow in a mini-retreat. May the Spirit quicken my heart in reading His Word. May I be reminded of the sufferings of Christ, my utter sinfulness, and God's amazing love.

What expression do you see? I'm going to analyze your responses and tell you specifically what kind of person you are. (I'm kidding of course; I'd rather that you see my friend Razel who makes you answer these nice tests and classify you as melancholic, phlegmatic, choleric, or sanguine.) Anyway, I had purest the intention of drawing a stunned face. You see, I feel really stunned these days, with all the org + academic pressures and the need to get some decent sleep in between. But on hindsight, the man above looks like he's just eaten a dozen slices of pizza with eight glasses of supersized Coke. Not even close to stunned. What's his name?, you ask. I haven't really thought about that, but does Constipated sound good to ya?

Atonement, I realize, is my kind of a movie: no silly plots, no unnecessary dialogue, no hint of corni-ness. I'm not going to divulge all the details; it's for you to find out. But really, if you haven't watched it yet, then I suggest you do. There's this one scene that defined the movie for me: one sultry summer day in 1935, Briony Tallis hurriedly finishes her play, something she wants to present to a dinner party that her upper-class British family is preparing for. The scene is a vague picture of my early childhood. I would grab a pen and paper, write anything that popped into my head--a poem, a letter, a sketch--and pretend that people were going to read it. Most of it was incomprehensible, I realized much, much later, but the practice kept me busy during the long afternoons when I wasn't allowed to get out because I had to take a nap. But I didn't sleep but wrote those things instead--one of the reasons, I guess, why I didn't grow any taller.

Queueing up for food had never felt this fun. After the talk, our tummies were so full we couldn't breathe. A night to remember, I tell you. With Glai, Andoi, Jade, and Carla. This time, with Cynric.

If not for my rooommate who happens to be an Economics major, I wouldn't have known about the situation that's about to explode big time and turn the School of Economics (SE) into a huge mess. I'm talking about the scandal involving some Economics majors who have recently been accused of cheating. These students belong, as you may put it, to the higher level of the student food chain. They have high grades to boot. They're expecting to graduate with summa, magna, or cum laude laurels on their heads. They're also doing well in their extra-curriculars, holding prestigious offices in established orgs in UP. The question that must be answered now is this: did they cheat? In an angry, passionate open letter to President Roman, Chancellor Cao, and Dean De Dios of SE, Bernadette Lopez , apparently one of the accused, writes: "I have devoted my life to the pursuit of academic excellence and purposeful leadership. I compete with no one but myself. I have thus achieved t

What could be more exhausting than a three-day climb to Mount Everest? Writing a term paper. In Filipino . This part's hyperbole, but you get my point. My four years in Metro Manila, where virtually everyone speaks Tagalog, didn't seem to help. I'm still as bad a Filipino writer as I was when I got zero in my Grade 1 quiz on katinig at patinig . Now it takes me 24 years to write a single sentence. What I have so far reads like a paper written by a grade schooler. My sentences run wild. In the likes of, "May dahon sa likod ng aming bakuran." Now where's that good ol' English-Filipino dictionary when I need it most?

By the grace of God, I underwent water baptism today. Baptism is a church ordinance where a believer publicly identifies with the life and death of Christ and signifies his desire to obey and worship Him. It was a joyful occasion. This is the three-minute testimony I gave during the occasion. There were 19 of us who were baptized, and each testimony I heard proclaimed God's love, mercy, and grace to undeserving sinners. To GOD alone be all glory, honor, and praise! Mine is a story of the little Sunday school boy born into a good Christian home. I heard the gospel at a very young age, but came to truly understand it much, much later. You could say I was a very good boy. I prayed. I went to church. Plus, I did extremely well in class. Externally I was also very moral. I never cursed, hardly violated any school rule, and I was kind, thoughtful, and polite. Internally, however, I was corrupted. I was reeking with pride, contempt, lust, and hypocrisy. Although I knew practically all the

I'd like to believe I'm apolitical. Unless it's very pressing, I'd rather not talk about politics because, when that happens, the conversation will only lead to some form of disagreement. There's your side, my side, and the truth. The on-going campaign for the University Student Council (USC) posts has proven very exciting. As opposed to the past fews years I've been in UP, there are no bigwigs this year, no larger-than-life personalities. This year we're witnessing a battle of general programs of action, project proposals, and policies. Which should always be the case. The question isn't who gets the post, but what he will do when he/she gets it. That's why I'm hesitant to endorse any particular candidate. The voter's focus must be the program. But, I realize, personality does matter, for the proposed projects can only be as good as the persons who implement them. It's not a secret that I'm campaigning for Titus Tan of KAISA. Titus