I never knew that having someone run after me would be annoying and disturbing. Before I wanted someone like him- someone who would want me so desperately even after rejecting him for so many times.

We only went out once. Now, it’s one of those decisions I made this year that I would likely regret. I already told him that he would never get what he wants from me. Given that, I took that he would bug off. After several weeks of that serious talk, he asked me out again. “I thought we had an understanding” I told him. I don’t know if he was just pretending to not remember anything. To my surprise, he sent me the exact message I sent him almost a month ago. He was asking for some sort of explanation for it. I didn’t reply.

“I was trying to remember our date. I was so happy that time. Can we do that again?” he asked. Suddenly I became worried and threatened. He gives me the feeling that he would abduct me and take me to a beach house where he would lock me until I marry him given the chance. Yes, his obsession does not end in just getting me. Eeew...

Friday night. I didn’t have any plans. I was thinking of going home early. An hour before my off someone invited me to a gimmick. Of course, my apprentice had to come and all the other people in the room. Someone knocked and asked at what time I was going home. She got invited as well.

We arrived in this bar at 9pm. To make the story short, after 6 buckets of beer, 2 bottles of vodka, and those little test tube drinks, people started throwing up. It wasn’t a good sight… But I just can’t leave them like that, especially one person. She stayed with me during my drunkest time and I won’t leave her this time.

Few more drinks and someone already passed out. As in we couldn’t wake this person up.

I noticed my apprentice was missing so I looked around. He was outside the washroom- pseudo making out with a girl. Few more minutes and he came back and danced with the other girls displaying signs of their availability. He danced each and every one of them. Such a flirt he is when he’s drunk.

My tolerance for alcohol seems to be increasing. Darn. I can’t dance if I’m not drunk. My body refuses to move without that alcohol lubrication.

Apprentice

It’s been only four days and I don’t like how things are turning out. Do I have to admit that I am being, unprofessionally, associated to someone? This was the reason why I didn’t want to take the job of preparing and orienting this person to his work.

You might want to know something about my new apprentice. Physically, he’s definitely attractive. From what he’s already told me, he likes reading and working with numbers. The most interesting thing about my apprentice, and probably he’s selling point, is his innocent charm due to his lack of knowledge in the city and he’s apparent strict Catholic upbringing. Since he is my apprentice for now he asks me lots of questions about things he is not familiar of, especially his way around the city. I also notice him unconsciously making signs of the cross when he’s about to do certain things- not just before and after meals.

Because of these characteristics girls just can’t get enough of him. Since I am his trainer right now, I’m the person to come to in case you want to know something about him or even get his number. I’m amazed how many girls are asking for his info.

Somehow I feel proud of him.

I understand why people mistake me for a lesbian. It’s been like that since I was in fourth grade. Maybe it’s the way I move. I lack that defined swirling of the hips and flipping of hair common to girls. Then again, when people question my sexuality I just laugh at them…

Since I’m so used with this perception I get surprised when somebody asks me out. Someone invited me to watch a movie. I don’t know if it’s a date, but I don’t want to consider it a date. It’s very “unprofessional” on my part. I like to think of it as part of my job. But I don’t think meeting his family in a family affair on a weekend is still part of my job… I hope it gets cancelled.

I took this picture 2 months ago. I just saw it in my camera this morning. That's me.

This is the time of the year when I would exert an effort to invite my high school friends (classmates included) to go out of town so we could catch up. I’ve been trying to invite them for, what, 3 years now and no one is still available.

Come one, I hate to say this, but is there anything in their lives that’s so important they can’t leave for 3 days? I hate it whenever they’d tell me “I’m busy” because, what the heck, I’m on call 7 days a week 24 hours a day and I am willing to devote time ad effort inviting them, organizing and outing and actually taking a leave. Now, that’s busy. Then they’d tell me “I don’t have money” – well, this is the reason why there are always options. If they can’t afford to go to a resort, we’re very much open to simply going out on a Saturday night.

But what is the reason they’d give me that I hate the most? It’s when someone would say “I don’t like these people.” Crap. As if they like you to be there, too. As if you’re so important.

Right now… As in right this very moment, invite me to go to a beach or on a road trip, I’d probably say yes. This is so frustrating. These people are frustrating. They are the most miserable people in the world right now. What the heck… Would you actually miss a reunion just because you’re not wearing dental braces and you have pimples all over your face? Now, that’s crappy and miserable.

One of the major differences between men and women are the inability of women to say what they mean and the unforgiving talent of men to say things is a straightforward manner. Believe me, I know, I work in an industry populate by men.

While I often struggle with euphemisms to make something sound better than what I actually want to say, men simply slap the exact words in your face. They’re harsh and rude and simply insensitive. With women it’s all about the signs and body language.

As a guide, particularly when dealing with me, here are some interpretations of my euphemisms, body language and signs:

1. When I say “nothing” or “ok” it simply means “I really have nothing to say. Continue talking, please, I’m still listening.”

2. But when I say “interesting” I really mean “it’d be great if you give me a background on that matter.”

3. Worst is when I say “ahuh” because that’s the time I’m already losing interest and my mind is somewhere else.

4. “Don’t you think the weather is crazy?” means “I’m feeling naughty, make me horny.”

5. “I’m feeling lazy” translates to “Come over here right now.”

6. When you see me crossing my legs (in the ladylike manner) interchangeably it means I’m getting aroused, but when I cross my legs similar to haw a guy would cross his legs it means I mean business.

7. When my arms are crossed I’m feeling conscious. When I cross my arms, touch my neck or face and cross my arms again it means I’m feeling if my nipple is kind of noticeable and I might have to go to the washroom first.

8. When my phone rings in the middle of a date and I replied to the message or answered the call (when it’s from a friend) it means “rescue me, this is such a bad date.”

9. Encircling my fingers on the glass rim or touching my neck means I’m ready to flirt.

10. “Would you like to grab some drinks?” = “Let’s bring down our defenses and lay down all our cards.”

11. “A friend of mine is interested to meet you.” = “I like you. I wonder what my friend would think of you.”

12. “I’m with my sister. Is that ok?” = “I really like you, please do me a favor, make my sister like you.”

A guy asked me “so what are your luxuries in life, I mean, what are the things you like buying?” There were only two of us in the car and I couldn’t say “pass.” I forced myself to think of the things I consider luxury or according to him the things I like to buy.

“Actually, I’m not fund of buying things I don’t need.” Although I was looking at the road, I could see from the corner of my left eye that his head turned to look at me. He was surprised like all the other guys who asked me the same thing.

I simply don’t like spending money on things I would keep in the closet, give away or sell after several months. I don’t like shopping for things I don’t really need. The only time I’d go out and shop is when I’m sure of what I have to buy and where to get it.

When I got home I immediately went to my dressing room and looked around. I only have six pairs of shoes and use only four. My shirts only differ in color, but they all look the same. For a girl, I only have two bags categorized as “big bag” and “small bag.” I only have two hair accessories. My jewelry box houses receipts from different restaurants. I don’t have any collection that would require a considerable amount of money. I collect rocks and I get them for free. The only beauty products in my dresser are limited to lotion, deodorant, face powder, lip gloss and cologne.

Nothing in my room can be considered luxury. Sometimes I wish I could do something about that. I’ve always wanted to buy a dozen of white shirts, large clocks I could hang on my wall so I’d know what time it is in different parts of the world, vertical blinds, at least four paintings showing cubism, surrealism, Dadaism and expressionism. Lastly, I want to have a black bed. That’s the only luxury I want to have.

I was in Tagaytay few days ago to attend an orientation. It wasn’t meant for me, it was actually meant for the company’s clients. I was just there in case they needed something from me and as a form of support.

On our way, I was surprised that I finally had that one-on-one conversation with someone. I’ve always had these questions at the back of my head that only waited for the right time to ask her.

We pulled over to eat our lunch in this small restaurant by the road. I’ve always been drawn to her. Our job requires us to work together all the time, but no matter how much we spend time together I still don’t know much about her. I hear things about her- stories about her- but I want her to tell me about those things to me personally.

It was a now-or-never moment. That’s the only time I could ask her “are you planning to get married?” She wasn’t sure to herself. I could see that on her face and her struggle to find the right words. One thing’s for sure, she wants a baby, with or without a wedding ring. She wants a baby this year.

You see… She’s a very attractive woman. Someone men would run after- beautiful, kind, sexy and could still be one of the guys. And I don’t understand why she’s remained single, unmarried and relentlessly hopeful to bear the child of a man who she’s fine not marrying. Is he married? Is he not in love with her? Is she afraid of spending the rest of her life with this man no matter how much she loves him?

I was taken aback for a moment because it breaks the rules of my very own values, but I understand what she means…

We transferred to another restaurant where we could see a great view of the volcano. I sat there and found myself talking to a gay guy. He said “I like this place. It reminds me of who I am.”

“Yeah. It’s refreshing. Minimalist. Where are you going to spend the Holy Week?”

“My college friends and I would be visiting churches.”

Then I said “I spent all my life in Catholic schools. There was a time when I got sick of it- of attending masses twice a week and visiting the chapel everyday. You know what, I miss that life. I actually yearn for it. I miss the deafening silence in the chapel while I speak with God.”

When You Start MIssing Someone...

When you start missing someone it is already admitting to yourself, no matter how implicit it maybe, that there is something going on inside you. That something has started to make itself felt. It could be attraction, delight, pleasure and the list can go on.

I was lying on my bed and thinking how I spent my week, and then I suddenly remembered him- Mr. Cow. I wanted to ask how he’s doing, but I try not to so I watched a movie. Still, there were scenes that reminded me of him, though I don’t think any of the scenes that reminded me of him have anything to do with Mr. Cow. Simply put- I’ve been thinking of him. I hate it.

Yes… I hate the fact that I think about him, that he occupies a certain portion in my head. It gets even bigger every time I see him. The sad part is I know myself very well, and people know me as well- when I say something, I actually mean the other. When he asked if he could hold my hand I was thinking “I’d be glad” but what I told him was “no.” Things like that…

What is wrong with me?

Come one… I enjoy his company. Maybe even more than enjoying his company. He’s undoubtedly charming, though he might be arrogant sometimes. He’s this man who projects an openly pleasant personality, but you know you still have more to know about him. And that you refuse to ask anything, instead, you allow him to reveal all those things to you in his own pacing.

Why can’t I make my life easier? Sometimes I wonder how nice it would be to get intoxicated with him... Just to let my guards down... But this is just playing with my thoughts and allowing myself to think about the possibilities. I am completel dreaming.

It’s a good thing that I have someone I could call a “friend” in the office. At least there’s this one person I could “really” talk to when I feel like it. Tonight we talked on the phone for almost an hour enumerating who we think are the virgins and the “poked” ones.

Of course, there are some who do admit that they are actively engaged in sexual activities. These are the people who converge in the parking are during lunch time and spend the rest of their free minutes talking about sex and how they do it.

As it turns out there are only five women we consider virgins- including the two of us. We are both sex shy when there are people around us, but when the two of us are left alone we can talk about sex and everything else about it forever.

Our topic for tonight was foreplay. I told her how much I take care of my back just to keep it smooth or even attractive. People admired my back whenever events called for a backless dress. Now, it’s a little frustrating that there are some marks left by my allergies. Good thing they’re not that noticeable.

Sometimes I imagine having someone run his fingers through my back. Blow softly and kiss it. And give me some shivers…

Kiss my back, from my lower spine up to my neck. I’d like that.

My Own Virgil

I find it strange that the people I look up to- or should I say prefer to take side- are usually the unlikely ones. Never did I find myself amused by someone who is very much like me. In fact, most of the time, the people who have my characteristics are the ones I don’t interact with.

I’ve been warned not to go out on gimmick with a certain woman. They say her influence might just send me soaring down. She says “you’ll be in hell with me.” It only took me one night to find out who this person really is.

It was the first time that I was publicly displayed intoxicated. It was the first time I said the things I’ve always kept. It was the first time that an actual person had the courage to tell me I’m a loser- to have someone admit that all this time, when people thought I was smart and rational, I’ve been weak and dense.

The woman people around us think to be a bitch and a flirt stayed with me for more than four hours- listening, commenting, and advising. It turned out that she’s the one who makes real sense compared to all of them. That night when I was in hell, she stayed with me. She was my very own Virgil.