MOVED
After 137 posts, and some drafts left unposted,
I have decided to join the bandwagon.
MOVED.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Halfway through and retracting
Second year is coming to a close, and because of too much hard work built upon feeble ground, I will be exerting more strenuous effort just to dig out my buried hard work for next year to be successful. Burning out is never an issue for me, knowing that pushing my body to its limits garners no harmful side effects; but beyond that, you'll see me walking like a french fry wasted in the open for an entire day.
About my Banaue trip, did I say twenty-thousand words? I meant two hundred and sixty-one. Due to molecular microbiology and the 50 series, I can only recount a few (or at least put down):
Going back uphill with a 5-kilo backpack and only half a liter of plastic-reeking water will only render you tired, and thus you will have to rest more often than going down with the same load, taking gravity into the picture. It just so happened that at five hundred soul-slicing footsteps near our goal we had to rest. To our side was the wooden shed with benches and a table. A handful of local tribesmen were listening to the radio while eating nga-nga, as if waiting for something. Our co-tirees were frazzled, sprawled against the seemingly softest wooden seats, when suddenly a raging local attacked one of the handful at the rest station with an itak, or whatever that sharp blade was called. We were all pulsating dramatically fast, and in an instant, blood spurted out the cut of the poor guy's left arm. The end of the blade even got cut, swirled upward, and thank God it landed on the ground and not on somebody else's face. Afraid and weary, we just wanted to get to our goal as fast as we could. Right back up, Joseph, Joy and I discussed what just happened, and we concluded it could only have been due to either porter fight or love life. We are more inclined to believe it's love life because the attacker looked really pissed off.
Nothing much happened on the way to the bus station, except we top-loaded on a jeepney (Joy, pray that your family won't read this) and sang songs non-stop with our newfound friends (NFF's).
About my Banaue trip, did I say twenty-thousand words? I meant two hundred and sixty-one. Due to molecular microbiology and the 50 series, I can only recount a few (or at least put down):
Going back uphill with a 5-kilo backpack and only half a liter of plastic-reeking water will only render you tired, and thus you will have to rest more often than going down with the same load, taking gravity into the picture. It just so happened that at five hundred soul-slicing footsteps near our goal we had to rest. To our side was the wooden shed with benches and a table. A handful of local tribesmen were listening to the radio while eating nga-nga, as if waiting for something. Our co-tirees were frazzled, sprawled against the seemingly softest wooden seats, when suddenly a raging local attacked one of the handful at the rest station with an itak, or whatever that sharp blade was called. We were all pulsating dramatically fast, and in an instant, blood spurted out the cut of the poor guy's left arm. The end of the blade even got cut, swirled upward, and thank God it landed on the ground and not on somebody else's face. Afraid and weary, we just wanted to get to our goal as fast as we could. Right back up, Joseph, Joy and I discussed what just happened, and we concluded it could only have been due to either porter fight or love life. We are more inclined to believe it's love life because the attacker looked really pissed off.
Nothing much happened on the way to the bus station, except we top-loaded on a jeepney (Joy, pray that your family won't read this) and sang songs non-stop with our newfound friends (NFF's).
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Watch out
For an upcoming entry on my Banaue trip. Were it not for my weary wrists, mosquito-bitten feet, aching calves and lactic acid-filled kneecaps, my lab report on selective and differential media, my Geography critique paper, my General Plan of Action, and my Chem problem set, I would've exhorted myself to endure a twenty thousand-word account of my adventures.
Spoiler: I saw a tribesman commit an attempted murder just about three feet away from where I was paralyzed out of shock.
Spoiler: I saw a tribesman commit an attempted murder just about three feet away from where I was paralyzed out of shock.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Chess and Idol
It's been such a blessing to meet and shake hands with the chess super grandmaster Mark Paragua last Wednesday.
When I first heard his name, I was scratching my head for any tidbit of him stored in one of my lobes, but alas, I had none. So I was not even a quarter amazed by his presence. What I heard though was that he is godlike in the world of chess, along the ranks of Eugene Torre (he's the only grandmaster I know thanks to Hekasi 4).
Tables were arranged adjacent to each other and suddenly twenty students, including I, were playing with him simultaneously. It was like one of those quick dating games, wherein ladies are seated and guys rotate from one lady to another for some matchmakings. He was moving from player to player, one move per table. Then next! One move. Next!
Initially I was only hoping I would last ten moves because I'd learned he was too great. In the terms of the RPG world, there was imba, and I was to be pwned. But when our professor told us that he'd give bonus points to anyone who reaches thirty moves, I aimed that. And not too quickly enough I'd reached the thirty, there was equality between our non-pawn pieces the entire time. Soon enough, I was the only one playing with him that came from the PE amateur class; I was playing together with the varsity players, which means that our game lasted too long a time that I'd garnered more than forty moves. In the end, I did fifty-four moves, he fifty-five. I had the most bonus points and couldn't believe it. The entire game we had the same condition in terms of the non-pawn pieces, with him leading by only a pawn. If you're wondering how I survived that long, it would be because he and I were left with only pawns and a king during the endgame. I was amazed with myself, to be honest, because he was super grandmaster, and I ate all his pieces, even the queen (haha! after he ate mine).
He deserves praise with the one-move per player rounds, and Eppendorf! He moved from player to player for more than three hours (my game lasted that long). After our game, we shook hands and I asked for his autograph, which he gladly gave. From now on, I shall frame our game! The entire game was recorded in a yellow sheet and he autographed it!
Speaking of autographs, Paul Yap didn't sign my Bipolar CD, he only signed the package, grrr! For more autographs, I want Megan Joy Corkrey's. Please vote for her. Thank you very much.
*
I reflected on Ezekiel 6. I thank God for reminding me that He hates sin so much that sinners may die so ruthlessly: In the book, those who worship idols will be slain in front of their idols and their bones will be scattered around their worship altars.
When I first heard his name, I was scratching my head for any tidbit of him stored in one of my lobes, but alas, I had none. So I was not even a quarter amazed by his presence. What I heard though was that he is godlike in the world of chess, along the ranks of Eugene Torre (he's the only grandmaster I know thanks to Hekasi 4).
Tables were arranged adjacent to each other and suddenly twenty students, including I, were playing with him simultaneously. It was like one of those quick dating games, wherein ladies are seated and guys rotate from one lady to another for some matchmakings. He was moving from player to player, one move per table. Then next! One move. Next!
Initially I was only hoping I would last ten moves because I'd learned he was too great. In the terms of the RPG world, there was imba, and I was to be pwned. But when our professor told us that he'd give bonus points to anyone who reaches thirty moves, I aimed that. And not too quickly enough I'd reached the thirty, there was equality between our non-pawn pieces the entire time. Soon enough, I was the only one playing with him that came from the PE amateur class; I was playing together with the varsity players, which means that our game lasted too long a time that I'd garnered more than forty moves. In the end, I did fifty-four moves, he fifty-five. I had the most bonus points and couldn't believe it. The entire game we had the same condition in terms of the non-pawn pieces, with him leading by only a pawn. If you're wondering how I survived that long, it would be because he and I were left with only pawns and a king during the endgame. I was amazed with myself, to be honest, because he was super grandmaster, and I ate all his pieces, even the queen (haha! after he ate mine).
He deserves praise with the one-move per player rounds, and Eppendorf! He moved from player to player for more than three hours (my game lasted that long). After our game, we shook hands and I asked for his autograph, which he gladly gave. From now on, I shall frame our game! The entire game was recorded in a yellow sheet and he autographed it!
Speaking of autographs, Paul Yap didn't sign my Bipolar CD, he only signed the package, grrr! For more autographs, I want Megan Joy Corkrey's. Please vote for her. Thank you very much.
*
I reflected on Ezekiel 6. I thank God for reminding me that He hates sin so much that sinners may die so ruthlessly: In the book, those who worship idols will be slain in front of their idols and their bones will be scattered around their worship altars.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Numbers
11:47 post meridiem
120, 81, and 109 pages read for three books
150 unread feeds
546 images captured by my phone
49995 needed
40 per cent accomplished
21 continuous hours spent awake
1 notebook needed
35 teeth unwashed
36 white keys left dusty
25 black keys left untouched
10:13 of first Corinthians
4 days of restless rest
3 albums a week
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Starstruck
Unplanned and spontaneous, my going to the UP Fair yesterday (Feb. 14) was worth the 75 pesos. If I hadn't met Joreb while waiting for Joseph to get his ride, if Joseph hadn't known that he'd be picked up at the Physics pavilion, if I hadn't thought of getting to the CASAA shed, if I had overtaken the girl who also waited for the Philcoa jeepney, if I hadn't spotted a fat guy grumbling across the street and if I hadn't talked to him and agreed to go to the fair, I wouldn't have seen Polyap!!!
I didn't know Up Dharma Down was going to perform, and so I planned to boringly rub my eyes until Joreb and his friend Aaron got tired of watching the boring bands. Luckily, I got thirsty. And good thing I didn't choose the Fab drink! I went to the Rodic's stall to purchase water and poof! Paul Yap was there! If I didn't already have his autograph, I would've asked for it! Next time I meet him and the rest of the Up Dharma Down gang, I'd be bringing a camera, I swear!
Sunday, February 08, 2009
I gained 7 pounds
7 pounds is the only predictable movie that I've ever liked. You take it as it is, although the plot is quite confusing at times. I admit it: At first I didn't know if it was a flashback or not, or what, but towards the latter half I perfectly nailed my predictions. And although I'd predicted most of what was gonna happen towards the end--partly due to the first scene--I almost burst out into tears, but too bad I was seated with my dad and my cousins, who I guess was too shy too, that I could not even dare. :))
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