This verbally manifested thought bubble from Despicable Me’s villainous main character, Gru, whenever he had a revelation – or at least whenever he thought he had a great idea – accurately described many moments in my life at The LaSallian. Some schemes turned out to be great; some, epic fail; and some, weirdly enough, both.
During my first two years in college, academics were the center of my life. During my sophomore year, a “light bulb” moment arrived: I ran for, and became, editor in chief of this student publication.
I then made a major, major mistake during the first trimester of my junior year – I started missing classes. I actually remember going to one class for the first time to find out that everybody was already taking the first major test for that subject. I failed two classes that term.
On the bright side, I found out that I was actually a strong person. I did not collapse as almost everyone close to me expected. I was not bothered by the 0.0s, and I did not care that I had lost my chance at getting any academic award during graduation.
On that memorable course card day, it was embarrassing and funny at the same time to have my friends/colleagues witness how my parents reacted when they found out about my failures. No, Mom and Dad did not ground me – they just hugged me really tight and told me things would be fine (in hindsight, they probably thought I could have been suicidal at the time).
At that point, The LaSallian had already become the center of my college life. I had gotten really close to my colleagues, so much so that we practically became a family. One of my professors even told my classmates to remind me that I was taking up B.S. ECE, not B.S. LaSallian.
At the end of junior year came another “light bulb” moment: I became head of The LaSallian again, one of the two EICs for SY 1996-1997 (for some reason, there was no problem with the staff having two bosses that year). By the following trimester, Angel (my co-EIC) and I had become a couple. After finding out about us, one friend made this very hilarious comment: “It’s like – incest!” (As I mentioned earlier, the editors and staffers were practically family.)
I remember lots of other things that happened during my two years on the editorial board: we set up the Silver Quill Awards to recognize The LaSallian talent; I unwittingly stirred up controversy when I disclosed some of the most unforgettable lessons I learned from my teachers; I became a victim of theft in our office, and even caught the thief (one of the staffers who was present during the confrontation humorously proclaimed himself a star witness); I witnessed staff relationships develop, blossom, and then crumble; and we came up with an April Fool’s Day spoof issue with the semi-plagiarized slogan, “It’s hard to write but we gotta.”
Was my stay at The LaSallian worth every single moment? Most definitely. A spaketchup meal at the SPS canteen: P20-P30. The lifetime friendships forged and unforgettable memories made: Priceless.
Fast-forward to 1999 – I had my brightest “light bulb” moment that year when I proposed to my TLS co-EIC, my girlfriend of exactly 1000 days, my guardian angel. We got married in 2001, and now have two kids.
So how can I be a part of this glorious publication’s golden anniversary? Light bulb! Say yes to Angel Bombarda’s invitation and have that final contribution, that one last hurrah.
It is nice to reminisce. J
Luis Laparan wrote for the Menagerie section in 1993-1995. He was Editor in chief (EIC) in 1995-1997. He fell in love with and married his then co-EIC Angelica Fortich Laparan. After a six-year stint at Accenture, Luis joined the family business.