Coke Anyone? Juicy Tales from the Online Rumor Mill

15 03 2008

If you haven’t heard/read about it yet, then you must have been nursing a Jun Lozada fever still.  For some who have been fed up with all the heady (no pun intended) theatrics, the latest catfight online is a welcome distraction.  Beautiful release, Ms. MacLachlan? 

I’m talking about the whole Brian Gorell vs. Delfin Justiniano “DJ” Ocampo and the whole “Gucci Gang” hooplah that overpower the much hyped about Sergio-MariMar wedding, Lobo’s much-awaited transformation, Leo San Miguel’s not so surprising surprise, and the widely monitored Clinton-Obama race.  As Le Superstar Fabuleux Bryan put it, it’s “bigger than the Edison Chen scandal in Hong Kong.”  That’s quite something considering the last one’s really huge too!  I almost forgot Governor Spitzer’s major mishap!  Move over Ashley, we’ve got a new star.

I actually just stumbled upon it by accident.  A few clicks here and there later, it unfolded before my very eyes.  It’s sad for shallow gossipy me to have missed the Comments section of the now uber-popular resurrected blog but what I have read pretty much gave me a clearer picture of the whole hubbub.

Let me try to sum up the now much talked about scandal.  Brian Gorell, a man from Down Under, created a blog in (dis)honor of his ex-lover Delfin Justiniano “DJ” Ocampo Montano II.  He dissed the guy and his friends because the ex-boyfriend allegedly still owes him $70,000.  He said in his blog that he won’t stop until he gets his money back.  Now what’s shocking, other than the staggering amount of money, is that the blog talks bad about people move around in Manila’s party scene far more frequently than the rest of us mere mortals.  They, the Gucci Gang, according to the blog, are the young set of the Manila alta sociedad.  I’m sure you’ve heard of Celine Lopez (Philippine Star writer and daughter of former solons Albertito and Emily Relucio-Lopez), Marcel Crespo (Lopez’s ex-fiance and Mark Jimenez’s son), Wendy Puyat-Hotung (a swimwear designer), Tina Tinio (a L’Oréal executive) and Tim Yap (another party animal and entrepreneur).

Everyone loves a juicy tale.  Well, not in huge doses and snorts(!) but every now and then, we lurvvv it.  Schadenfreude after all, is a guilty pleasure.  But this one’s wild!  Not only does it talk nasty of a love affair gone sour, it also talks of the massive and reckless use of cocaine.  If it were to be taken in without question, it will definitely crush to pieces what remnants of reputation these people have left.

A few days ago, the blog was closed but it went live again sans the comments section because apparently it got nuked because of that.  Not that they can’t touch it now.  I mean anything is possible ’round here.  Hell hath no fury than a woman (and the like) scorned indeed but by golly, it gets really uglier by the minute!  Brian Gorell is HIV positive, by the way.  He said so himself.  He claims to have given up his farm in Australia and a lover of 20 or so years.  But he’s back there.  I am not sure how he’s getting on though.  I have one word for him.  Thailand.  The others?  I’m not really sure.  All I know is that they’re getting their share of the limelight one at a time.  And I’m sure they don’t like it this time.  I wonder if ABS-CBN will run this story if this blows.  Or PhilStar.  Tim Yap has been very visible in GMA but I don’t think he’s got that kind of power on the news and public affairs turf.  Gorell said the blog will close as soon as DJ Montano pays up.  I wonder when he’ll post the Western Union receipts.  That should somehow make a case.  This drama marathon is addictive in coke-like proportions!  LOL. 

Sniff.  Snort.  Aaah!

Before the blog closes again, you can check it out here.

Qué horor! Qué barbaridad!

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Thrilla with Trillanes

2 12 2007

I’ve never been a fan of the guy.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t personally like GMA that much either.  But there are just things that you see when you think out of the box and look at the bigger picture.

While speculations are not admissible as hard evidence in the court of law, I think Filipinos believe that the president is more corrupt than any other leader in our country since time immemorial.  But one of the reasons why I love George Orwell is the last part of his book, Animal Farm.  That part where the other animals in the farm peeped into the house through the windows and watched the pigs and the human visitors at the dining table until they could no longer distinguish one from the other. 

In college, I participated in DGs (discussion groups) and EDs (educational discussions) about the Philippine society and the need for change.  I have memorized the “triangle” by heart and have finished the MKLRP and PSR—please look it up because talking about it at length would make me digress some more.  I joined mobs and vigils.  I had my fair share of being this close to getting cuffed for vandalism but there are things that bourgeoisie entails that paved the way for my enlightenment and eventual realization of what I truly need as a person and as a citizen of this country.  Perhaps, I blame it on the “animals” who led the move to overthrow the “humans” only to become what we crusaded against. 

Indeed aging makes you realize things.  Indeed experience teaches you a lot.  I was in EDSA 2 and that was one of the major highlights of my political life.  The spontaneity of the first few days and the last day have made it very memorable. 

There’s this coffee table book that shows huge pictures of People Power when the Marcos regime finally fell to the raging bulls of enlightened masses—working class and bourgeois alike, that never fails to make me teary-eyed.  It was like seeing a phoenix spring back to life from the ashes.  But it was Ninoy Aquino’s death that ignited that rage—this word always reminds me of Chikoy Pura of The Jerks—and it was death in general that moved mountains. 

Now, there’s this cub politician who thinks so highly of himself having come from an upper class family and having a decent-enough-looking face.  The man that people sent to the senate despite his incarceration thinking that he can still serve effectively behind bars.  It didn’t take that long before the prison cell became a Hotel California.  This reminds me of my Pol. Sci. 14 topic about ceremonial powers. 

Anyway, I do not discount Mr. Trillanes’ bravery and bravado but lack of foresight, maturity and cunning is something that a man of his stature reeks of.  He arrogantly proudly took to the streets and once again disrespected the judicial system of the land that he claims to love so much.  So much that he proudly declared that he is determined to die for it.   Looking back, I can still see the Magdalo guys who shared his bravado.  They proudly asserted their desire to die for the common good.  But what good came out of it?  The hotel that has been one of the major landmarks of the whole Metro Manila and of the Philippines has suffered a major physical and financial blow.  The media people were treated in ways reminiscent of the 70s and 80s.  The stock market felt a huge dent although the peso remained strong. 

What if?  The Magdalo guys except for Trillanes, Faeldon and Lim died in battle.  Would there have been an outcry?  Had they succeeded, would we have liked a military junta?  Had they succeeded, would we have been happier with Trillanes as our president?  Or whoever else?  Had the soldiers died and the takeover succeeded, would they have given back the losses that the establishments incurred?  Would they have been able to fully support the families of the dead personnel?  Trillanes is lucky.  He can afford to be unemployed.  But what about the others? 

The cinematic scenes that unfolded two days ago took up so much of my time and it ended with an ironic smile.  Some people simply do not learn. 

If someone died…oh well, that would have been SOMETHING!





Giggles and Flirtation

2 12 2007

I used to actively chat via mIRC when I started out in college.  I guess it was around the time when the now extremely popular IRC client took its babysteps too.  Then came ICQ (an oronym for I seek you) but I never really liked it for some reason.  It was around that time when I first created my Yahoomail and Eudoramail accounts.  Looking back, I can never really believe how far everything has gone.  During that time, sending SMS was limited to the rich kids.  But later on, mobile phones have become almost an extention to our body parts.  Even the families who could barely eat three square meals have at least one. 

When my father’s aide asked permission to buy a cellphone, I had a long talk with him.  I told him that while I don’t have anything to do with whatever he does with his life and his money, we definitely hope that buying a gadget that would test his priorities, would not affect his priorities.  He came here from a far-flung barrio where his father would beat him up if he couldn’t hand over a few coins to buy booze.  He came here because we need him as much as he needs us.  My father is paralyzed and because old men are the most hard-headed patients in the world, he has never recovered from his stroke.  He has become totally dependent to the not-so-young boy for even the simplest of things—from scratching his back to feeding him—to the messiest of them all, like wiping him clean after defecating, sponge-bathing him, and doing covert ops just so he could eat ice cream in the middle of the night when my mom specifically told him not to and so many other things.  My dad, even when he was in tiptop shape, has always been a handful.  That’s where I got most of my traits, I guess—his gene pool.  So anyway, we all know how it felt like when we first had our first ever mobile phone with SMS capabilities.  I kinda expected the changing of ringing tones, message alert tones, the horrendous volume, the non-stop-I’ll-trip-over-but-I-dont-care-just-so-long-as-i-can-finish-this-message thing, etc.  Because I am nocturnal, I get really hot-headed in the morning a few minutes before I sleep or when my sleep is interrupted during the day.  And because he had his message alert tone changed to some pop tune, the darn phone pumps up the volume non stop after lunch when everybody in the house is asleep for siesta, including him.  And because I’m a light sleeper–that depends actually on the kind of noise–I always get to be the one who hears the alert.  After three consecutive messages, I rush downstairs and try to find the darn phone and lo! and behold! it’s right near the landline phone in the living room.  So I looked for the owner of the loud phone.  And my, oh, my, the good boy is in deep slumber, with his mouth wide open as if waiting for manna from heaven to fall.  So there I was, fully awake after around just 3 hours of sleep after almost 36 hours of working.  In a very bad mood.  I make it a point never to do anything when I’m all angry and pissed.  And so I tried desperately to go back to sleep.  So sleep I did until around 7PM which made my head hurt real bad.  I don’t like sleeping till around that time because it always makes my head hurt like hell.  I went back to work and downed a whole pint of vanilla ice cream.  God, that was heavenly.

And so one day, I called him and asked him to sit down for another one of my attempts at diplomacy.  So I said…I understand how it is to have a new phone and to be new in the SMS arena but if could just put his phone in silent mode when he’s in Papa’s room, that would really be great.  Or he could leave his cellphone in his room so it won’t disturb anyone if he doesn’t want to change the alert tone. 

A few hours later, I heard the phone screaming mercilessly.  So I called him and asked him what’s going on.  He had the volume set to 5 so he could hear it even from Papa’s room.  Now, isn’t he wise!

So anyway, our houseboy has expanded his vocabulary, thanks to text education, to a few more English words.  He has also acted like a male dog in heat.  He has since become (and became) the boyfriend of almost all the housemaids in the subdivision and in the nearby bakery. 

Much to my mom’s utter disgust, of course.  But I try to tell her that I understand.  It’s so easy to flirt over the phone, online and even over the good old snail mail—pen pals anyone?  We all have different worlds and for people who do not have to think of anything else other than waking up and serving his bosses, I think he deserves whatever surge of lust or something like it that he’s been indulging to these days.  SO LONG AS IT DOES NOT AFFECT HIS WORK.  Well, there have been lapses but I think things have been addressed pretty clearly and I am keeping my fingers crossed that nothing bad will happen.  What is a little concession like that for days of peace and order!  If it makes him happy, then it causes a chain reaction.  Happy employees are more effectively productive and that means happier employer.

So, now, let’s go back to moi.  I once had a two-year relationship with a guy I met online way back in college.  Well, make that three.  The other two were merely sinfully wonderful and memorable flings so they don’t really count as relationships but just for the sake of statistics, let’s count them in.  There’s something about exchanging naughty and teasing comments with someone who’s not physically near you that makes things a whole lot more, er, tingly. 

When the cameras were integrated into mobile phones, my then boyfriend asked me to send him “sexy” pix and he returned the favor.  Since I was in a semi-long distance relationships, the ooohs and aaaahs over texts and later phone calls sufficed.  Then with the advent of more modern tech, um, simultaneous indulgence of self-help developed cult-like support online.  Sad to say, it has degenerated the nature of flirting and harmless chatting with strangers. 

I traverse the long and winding information superhighway every day and because of that people constantly ask me what cybersex is, or if I’ve met someone online who will whisk me off poverty in the Philippines to some sugar-coated gingerbread house in the land of milk and honey or somewhere far from this Pearl of the Orient.  Well, I can explain in a very clinical and academic way what cybersex is and how it is done but in terms of chatting with someone who will eventually become a special part of my life, the answer is a resounding, eeeeeenkkkkk! 

NO.  As a single (Asian) female, I do get into those moods when I feel like I really want to be with someone.  My former landlady tells me I’m on NPO for now—medical practitioners, go figure—and for someone who had been not on NPO for a collective and straight seven or so years, it’s quite hard.  They say you don’t crave for something that you haven’t really tried.  Well, I have and so I crave.  But despite being a cosmo girl who understood Carrie’s consternation at the prospect of losing her Manolos to a “shoe-napper”, I think my quick tumble in the hay days are over.  I am not into that anymore.  Well, if the opportunity presents itself, why not?  But I have made my circle so small that even I could not turn around that easily.  So what opportunity are we talking about?  I’m not complaining, mind you.  But the thing is, I meet people online.  From work, through blogs, through wherever.  And while I am a natural tease and flirt, being asked for a cam view and for something to start a few minutes after you even say hi, is a tad too weird for me.  After a long hiatus from chatting, I tried getting into one of those chatrooms in Yahoo and jeeez, people seem to talk in one language and all they ask and talk about is sex, cams and cums!  Whatever happened to friendship and getting to know you while we flirt occasionally without really meaning anything much?  It’s just me getting all cheeky and clenched butt. 

I remember one masseuse who’s a friend of my mom.  She’s quite talkative—a trait that I really do not appreciate while getting a massage.  But when conversations turn green, even in my half-awake, half-asleep state, my ears still perk up.  So anyway, she just got widowed and so she’s been the brunt of jokes about looking for an “American” (the word is enclosed in quotation marks because sometimes we have this penchant of calling all foreigners American) husband.  She said she tried chatting but she gets uncomfy when the guy that she chats up with shows his dick right out and asks her to show her boobs or slit in return.  So she makes up excuses about not having a cam and all that jazz while she and her relatives watch while the “American” on the other side of the internet touches himself till everything limps down and the guy excused himself so he can “dry off” and “clean up” that usually means going to the bathroom or grabbing a roll of toilet paper for some. 

While I do not want to sound prissy, this simply does not turn me on.  I don’t know.  I get turned on by witty conversations that are peppered with flirtations and naughty innuendos but being other than that, I can always get into the part and just type some “motivational” lines for the other party. 

Needless to say, I’m not on a serious quest to find someone who’ll treat me like a princess and not for anything else.  When I’m 30 and I’m still not “in a relationship” as Friendster puts it, I will panic.  But only for a moment.  I think I have a healthy enough self-esteem to know that it’s not being in a relationship that matters—it’s in having fun while we can in a way that we will have fun indeed.  Perhaps, I still have unresolved personal issues to take care of and I think I will not make a good partner until I iron out whatever ugly wrinkles there are in my shirt. 

I have recently been getting proofs how big a liar my ex-boyfriend is and his audacity of continuously denying so many things even when I know what the real score is have been such huge downers lately.  Well, there’s work.  It gets me down but not emotionally so occasional online flirtations with people that I don’t really know, help big time.  Well, I’m choosy.  I don’t like wimps and younger guys.  And I have very little time.  So when I do get into that kind of mood, I’ll go for knights (or badass chicks!) in rusty armors while I wear my French maid’s costume.  Don’t get me started on how to use the feather duster!  LOL. 

But well, I miss blogging and even if I’m not making any sense, I am quite happy that I have blabbered a thought too many somehow. 

Oh, and I’m not in THAT mood right now, with over 70 web pages to revise, I don’t think I can afford to let out even a lusty sigh.  So, a piu tardi! Molto grazie! Ciao! 





Something SPOOK-tacular!

24 10 2007

I’m helping my friends at KidsAhoy spread the word about their Halloween Party.  

KidsAhoyShop.com cordially invites you to join them in a SPOOK-TACULAR “Ghost-hunting By the Ruins!” an Exclusive Halloween Experience!

Where: Patio of Casa Manila, Intramuros (front of San Agustin Church, Intramuros, Manila)
When: Oct. 28, 2007 SUNDAY
             Batch 1 : 5:00-7:00PM
             Batch 2 : 7:15-9:15PM

For kids of all ages, even the kid-at-heart! Walk-through our haunted trail, collect treats and encounter scary, weird and wacky characters along the way. At the end of your journey, enjoy a bloody drink, a ghastly feast of “intestines, hearts, eyeballs & fingers”, a spook-tacularly fun story and song around the campfire plus other games, activities and surprises!
*Kids: trick or treat & snacks included
*Adult: snacks included

Halloween costumes encouraged! Prize awaits the Winning Costume (Kids & Adults Categories)

ENTRANCE FEE: P500 per CHILD
LIMITED SLOTS ONLY : PRE-REGISTRATION/PRE-PAYMENT REQUIRED
You will be assigned a start time when you register. Times are assigned in the order as they are received so register
early! A maximum of 150 persons per batch will be strictly enforced. Kids under 7yrs old are required to enter with ONE
parent/adult companion (discounted rate of P250/adult)

Batch 1: 5:00pm (’til 7:00pm), ideal for all kids below 12yrs old
Batch 2: 7:15pm (’til 9:15pm), ideal for 13+yrs old and grown-ups

INVITE EVERYONE TO JOIN IN THE FUN!
GROUP DISCOUNTS: AT LEAST 20 KIDS/group (20% off)

BE A KIDSAHOY TRAILBLAZERS CLUB MEMBER & AVAIL OF DISCOUNTS (Pathfinder: 10% off /Vanguard: FREE
ENTRANCE)

HURRY & GET YOUR EXCLUSIVE PASS NOW!

For details, contact KIDSAHOY@YAHOO.COM / 0920-5178127 / or visit www.kidsahoyshop.com

So, if you’re in the area, bring the whole family (invite all the kids you know too) and enjoy a one-of-a-kind SPOOK-Tacular Night!





Free Fallin’

22 10 2007

A pingback today brought me back to good ‘ol dormdays in UP.  There’s this band, The Bridge, whose members (there were just three of them then, I’m not really sure if they’ve added a few more to their team) are the type who would make any “girl” giggle—brooding look, silent, very talented, seemingly shy, lanky, unshaven, in jeans, husky, husky voice!—you get the picture, girls!  Well, they didn’t have that much of a following but in our dorm and theirs, they were already celebs in their own right.  One of my closest friends had a huge crush on one of their lead vocalist that there were moments when we really stalked the guy! Then I developed a huge crush on his cousin, who was also a major role player in their band.  In UP Fair ’98, they gave an undies-snapping rendition of Change the World by Eric Clapton.  They figured in so many other gigs in UP and in the small but popular bars near UP (70s Bistro, Freedom Cafe, Ora Cafe–those were their names then).  Their favorite song, or so we thought, because they used to sing it a lot, was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Free Fallin’ and man, what a song.  I mean we, women, are drawn to bad guys who are full of angst and a soft spot somewhere.  So, check this out:

“Free Fallin'”
Free Fallin

By Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne
Copyright © 1989 Gone Gator Music (ASCAP)/ SBK April Music Inc. (ASCAP)
All rights reserved. Used by permission.

She’s a good girl, loves her mama
loves Jesus and America too
She’s a good girl, crazy ’bout Elvis
loves horses and her boyfriend too

It’s a long day livin’ in Reseda
there’s a freeway runnin’ through the yard
and I’m a bad boy, ’cause I don’t even miss her
I’m a bad boy for breakin’ her heart

Chorus
And I’m free, I’m free fallin’

All the vampires walkin’ through the valley
move west down Ventura Blvd.
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
All the good girls are home with broken hearts

(Repeat Chorus)

I wanna glide down over Mulholland
I wanna write her name in the sky
I wanna free fall out into nothin’
Gonna leave this world for awhile

(Repeat Chorus)





Yadda Yadda

22 10 2007

You know what jumpstarts my otherwise mundane daily routine to make it totally different from my now caffeine-operated robot of a self?  Reading something really good online.  And the extra spice?  When it’s for me. 

I’m not talking about romantic or even semi-romantic stuff.  I’m just talking about e-mails, notes, comments—anything.  I probably don’t get much attention in that department these days save for follow-up for deadlines, questions about agenda, queries about the new concept, etc—nada for the life underneath this gorgeous robot. 

So when I read something so simple yet so finely chiseled, I am blown away and it makes me happy and giddy and more inspired to work.  In the few months that I have reared my head into the blogging neighborhood, I’ve met a few interesting characters—some are very nice and friendly, others are purely vicious and bitchy (typical of us, girls), some are naughty and nice, and some are downright snob.  It’s a free world so there’s nothing to get really hyped up about.  In a world where cliques reign, a non-conformist and sociopath like me, likes to stay away from the maddening crowd and to keep everything under the street—the way the Beast did in the old Beauty and the Beast TV series with Ron Perlman and Linda Hamilton. 

So to all those who have made my day, thank you.  Hope to see you more often, in my inbox, in my blog, in my cosmic path, anywhere.





Tutor

7 10 2007

I don’t like kids. 

I love my nieces and nephews–all eight of them.  But I am not one of those people (especially females) who coo over babies when they see them or think the little girl, barely one year old, who’s wearing a gartered headband is cute.  (Have pity on the infant, you people! It may look nice and attractive to you but I’m sure the li’l girl doesn’t appreciate the discomfort!  Regardless of how “loose” you claim it to be!)I don’t rush to whoever is carrying the baby so I could also carry IT!  I remember taking care of my nieces and some of my nephews.  It was never fun to carry them for such a long time.  It pulls muscles but I love them since they’re family. 

I want to have a baby.  Sooooo badly.  I had my chance, twice.  But it just never happened.  My uterus is retroverted and my ovaries are polycystic.  The downside?  It’s so hard to impregnate me.  The upside?  I get to have fun without worrying about getting preggy.  But of course when the right time comes, whenever that is, I want to have a baby, with or without a husband.  It’s unfair to the kid, I know, but why force it if I can’t be a good wife in the eyes of my child.  I know I’ll be a good mother.  I’m not worried in that department.  But to be a good wife?  That depends. 

Going back to kids…if I have a choice, I don’t want to be around them.  But for some reason, kids are drawn to ME! In airport terminals, in ships, in buses, in shopping malls, in restos—everywhere!  I used to be super fat and one time, we were in KFC in SM City Cebu and a kid kept on smiling at me!  It was getting so weird because I didn’t even notice him until my then boyfriend told me.  I glared at the kid and he looked away.  He was about 5 years old.  The type who could already tell his mom that the lady in the other table glared at him.  But he clammed up and looked at me again.  No, stared is the word.  My then boyfriend teased me that he must’ve thought that I’m a mascot.  NOT funny because it was starting to freak me out.  Good thing they had to leave ahead of us. That’s one of the reasons why I plunged into weight reduction desperate measures.  If only I had at least an ounce of desire to try drugs, I would have puffed the magic dragon 24/7 just to get the desired effect.  But I’m not too sure about that either.

Now, I love money.  So when I was still working a true-blue member of the uring manggagawa (working class), well, not really, I accepted all other gigs that came my way to earn some more.  My first ever part-time job while having a full-time job was as a tutor.  When the Koreans were still in the initial stages of their diaspora, I was one of those very lucky ones who was able to be a tutor to a Korean for P300 an hour.  Yep boys and girls, twice as much as the running rate nowadays.  And the good thing about that was that he wasn’t so young and since he was enrolled in one of the international schools in Cebu, he already knew how to at least express himself in broken English.  His family mistook me for a Chinese because I do look like one.  I had to quit after around three months because I can understand a few Korean phrases.  I had Korean as a language elective back in UP and I didn’t like them talking bad about me in Korean even when I’m within earshot thinking that I couldn’t understand them.  My tutee liked me and even planned to give his Samsung flip-phone to me.  Yep, that happened around 5 years ago when Samsung phones were still really cool because only very few people had them and they brought back the flip mobile phones in style.  So I quit.  Told them I could understand them.  Thing is, only the kid understood English really well and I didn’t want him to be the interpreter so I am not sure, even to this day, if they understood why I quit. 

Next in line—an eight-year old Filipino-Chinese boy.  He was the only boy in the brood of four and his sisters were in the honor roll in their respective classes.  He was, um, chubby too and all he could think about then were Zoids and Yo-Gi-Oh.  Everytime I taught him Math, I had to use Zoids and Yo-Gi-Oh in word problems.  That worked for him. 

He also kept a diary which was really funny because he’d let me read it.  One time, I told him that if he finished his Math assignment in 15 minutes without mistakes, I’d let him watch Yo-Gi-Oh.  We had a deal.  And everyday, it was like that.  If he finished something fast and accurately, I’d let him watch TV.  One day, one of his sisters told their mom that D was made to stand in the quadrangle of their school for excessive talking.  Hehehe.  His mom, who didn’t like anything like that because it meant that the moms of the other kids in the school that they go to also know of the incident and they were her friends!  So she stormed into the room while he was getting his treat (watching TV) and was asked to turn it off because he’s been a bad boy!  D looked at me and said, Teacher Geda o!  What was I to do?  Hehehe.  I talked to his mom and reminded her that that was our deal.  The mom backed off and told D that she’ll deal with him when our session’s over.  Hehe.  That was really funny, and awkward. 

Talk about awkward, my then boyfriend would send me a message at around the same time each day to tell me that he’s home or that he’ll eat dinner or something like that.  D knew about it.  And one time, he asked me, Teacher, do you also kiss with Tiger?  (Err, I used to call my ex Tiger, and I was his Tigress :-p) So, since I never saw anything wrong with answering the question, I said yes.  And then he asked—do you also have sex?  I almost fell off my chair!  And because I was caught off guard, I told him that it’s never polite to ask people that.  Not only was it rude, he hadn’t finished his assignment yet.  Case closed.  But I know I blushed to my roots then.  Sexual innuendos and jokes are funny when they’re exchanged between friends within the same age group, or at least with people over 18! 

After two years, I quit.  Because I moved to a company where I had to work nights.  D was devastated.  And I was too.  I never thought I’d become so attached to a child who’s not related to me but I did. 

My next “victim” was my landlady’s grandson.  I left the corporate world then and was just starting to work home-based.  So I was practically “home” the whole time.  I actually offered and they were hesitant at first because 1) they knew I hate kids 2) they couldn’t afford me.  But by then, I was already falling in love with teaching hard-to-teach kids.  And so every afternoon, the kid would go up to my room and study with me.  I taught him from writing to math to appreciation of books and good manners.  Naks.  While I’m not a paragon of virtue, I believe my parents brought me up really well.  When we grow up, we make our own choices and so for the mistakes that I have made when I have been out here and there, I blame no one but myself.  And so I’m proud of what I have done to A.  He writes like a kolehiyala (sharp and pointed, ladies?) and has already read pop literature and a few of the classics.  Oh, and he also asked me (more often) about sex.  I did try my darnedest to make everything sound clinical.  After all, the boy was under my “tutelage” for 2 years.  Besides, the earlier kids know about it from people close to them, the better their understanding of it becomes.  Less curiosity takes here and there, less population growth.  LOL.  My God!  I remember one time when he asked me if Tiger was coming to town for Valentine’s Day.  And I said, yes.  And he said, oh, so you’re gonna have sex!  I’ll just imagine the two of you doing it!  His grandpa who was within earshot guffawed!  So I lectured him again about blurting things out in public.  Sigh.  What a life. Too bad I had to leave. 

I still don’t like kids.  There are those that I warm up to after a while and I have accepted that regardless of how bitchy I can be, kids know better.  Hehe.  And yeah, I’m not that bad after all. 

Now, as for making babies…I’ll think about that some other time.