The Landlord's Journal

My name is Jos.

(Jeez! Do I have to do this? Is this going to turn out like one of those autograph books we passed around in high school? What's your favorite color? What's the meaning of love? Who's your crush? What is your Motto and explain why? Groan!)

My name is Jos. (Yes, I wrote that already.) Not Jose, just Jos. There is no 'e' at the end. I was named after my dad, Jose, (no, let's not talk about him, this assignment is not about him!) and so to prevent confusion, he named me Jos. He said it sounded cool at the time, and kept it. You can even check my birth certificate. Though, it did occur to me that the typist at the Civil Registry Office could have just made a typo.

I am 20 years old, single (duh!) and I live with my mom in Los Baños, Laguna. Mama inherited this huge boarding house because her mother, my Lola, passed away, and she was the only living relative. We just moved here last summer. Mama is the new Lady of the House, while I am the new Landlord.

I'm taking up Development Communication, with second year status. I'm actually in my third year of college, but since I'm a transferee from my old course in Quezon City – Business and Communications – the College Admin credited only half of my subjects, on the basis that there is no such course here in Los Baños. And all the while, I thought I was taking the shortcut to graduation.

I am unattached (but not for long! Or short! Get it? Short? Hwa hwa hwa!) and I believe in having a positive outlook in life!

Truth be told, this is my first time to write a journal. The professor of one of my subjects, Communications 101, has required us to keep a journal for the whole semester. He said it would help us develop our observation and composition skills. I doubt if I'll be able to last THE WHOLE SEMESTER because it is such a hassle, trying to remember what happens to me every day and putting it down into words that will somehow make an impact.

I'm not very good at remembering things that way. I prefer to live my life and then tell its story. That way, whatever lessons I'd learned, whatever experiences I'd encountered, I could arrange them into tales that had a beginning, a middle and an end. Although, I haven't had much of a life to tell, really.

Unless you count my life as a gigolo. Gosh, I miss Melanie! (Did I just write that down? Sh*t! Well, it's already there, might as well run with it.) Who is Melanie, you ask? She was just the one woman who understood me – my needs, my wants, my more important NEEDS – and I didn't have to beg her for it. It just happened. Maybe I'll pay her a visit one of these days, when I have the money. Just for old times' sake. Maybe this time I'll bring her a gift.

Ok, so back to this journal thing. Let's give it a try. What happened to me today?

I woke up, got dressed, grabbed a bite of breakfast and headed out to class. That's it? That's it. Oh, there was a rally going on at the Humanities Hall Front Lawn, but I didn't join. What was it all about? How the h*ll do I know? I didn't join because I didn't know anybody there!

This is ridiculous! I'm not doing this anymore!

My name is Jos.

I haven't written anything for a week. Why? Because there was nothing exciting to write about. Except that I realized that being the male Landlord of a women's boarding house certainly has its perks.

Life in the house has settled into a routine of sorts. I realize that I haven't introduced the girls. There are 10 of them:

*4* Kikay, Donna, Lilah and Katie, in the Quadroom. Kikay used to be in Double A, while the other three were together with another girl who transferred to the Women's Dorm (near the football fields) last semester, before we arrived. Was it just me or were they trying to send me hidden signals when I asked them to sign the new contract for the year?

They are all blockmates from last year and became friends, so they decided to bunk up together this time. They are in their second year of DevCom – like me – and have already openly flirted with me – with their eyes. Yes, all four of them. I'm getting all tingly just remembering.

*2* Janice and Piper, in Double A. Janice used to be Kikay's roommate and Piper used to be in Single B. Janice is in second year Veterinary Medicine while Piper is in third year Biology. Both are almost constantly in their laboratory gowns (and they both look really hot in them) but somehow, I am not so keen on the dead cat and bottled preserved frog they have in their backpacks, respectively. (I wonder what they'll say if I ask them what's underneath the lab gowns?)

*1* Tiffany, in Single B. Freshman, Food Processing. First time to live by herself. Looks skittish around me, or maybe it's because she's just homesick. I'll let Mama take care of her first.

*2* Lauren and Nadine, in Double C. They're both graduating this year and they both look like they've already got boyfriends. Although, I don't think it would be going against the rules if we became friends. Friends With Benefits, anyone? (Damn! Where are these thoughts coming from?)

*1* Josephine – "Jo", in Single D. Transferee from State U Main in Quezon City, where Mama studied before. BS Nutrition. What can I say? I don't find her attractive. She's always dressed in something drab, and her hair is always in a bun or a low ponytail, making her look older than she is.

She put her age as 19 on the contract, but she looks 30 at least. If that wasn't the biggest turnoff, what is? But it's still early. Anything can happen. Heck! Melanie was 49!

Melanie?!? Gosh, I haven't given a thought to her for two whole months (and one week)! I should really save up for a gift.

Wait! I forgot one! Me!

*1* My name is Jos. I'm in the sixth room, which I nicknamed, "THE J-ROOM". It's right across from Single D – Jo – and it's really just a little more than a cubicle. It fits me just fine because I can squeeze in a bed, a table, a tiny cupboard for my clothes – not that I'll be changing much in here.. I've left most of my clothes downstairs – and a bookcase for my textbooks if I need to study. And my journal, of course.

My journal. Who would have thought writing could be so exciting? What has gotten into me? Nah, I think it's because I have time on my hands and there's nothing to do. The old girls – the ones who have been living here before – have extra-curricular activities, while Mama is entertaining the two new ones. No, I don't want to join them.

I am just shy of 6 feet in height, with black hair, black eyes, a tall nose and a wide mouth. I am not athletic but can last more than two rolls in the hay, consecutively, thanks to Melanie's expert training on durability. My area of expertise is going deep. (Naughty grin!)

Okay, okay, enough of that. What will my professor say when he reads this at the end of the semester? He'll probably report me for being a pervert. Or worse, put me in jail for being a s*x maniac.

Not that I am one. At least I don't consider myself to be one. I have been with just one woman – yes, as unbelievable as it sounds – I have been nothing but faithful to Melanie in the past two years. It was Melanie who introduced me to this wonderful, pleasurable, unbelievably satisfying activity, and I miss her so!

Who is Melanie? To be able to explain who she is to me, I need to start at the beginning.

In the beginning – isn't that the way some stories start? It's better than the overused "Once upon a time.." (Jos, get with it!)

It all started with my dad. He was my idol. His mantra was, "Do it right (or wrong) the first time, and deal with it!"

And one day, he did. He ran off with his male secretary and he never looked back, nor kept in touch to ask even just how we were.

I was just in the fifth grade, but in a way, that experience helped me a lot. For one thing, I learned early what "s*xual orientation" was all about, and that I was what was called "straight". Later on, I would add another term to it – "straight heteros*xual", though it did sound like a double positive or something, like being "straight straight".

My dad was what they called a "bis*xual leaning towards being homos*xual". This was the most confusing of all orientations, according to a book I'd found in the school library, and which I'd squirreled away into a rat hole I'd created in a dark corner near the bathrooms. Imagine, finding a book all about s*xual education in a grade school library!

Given my state of mind, though, I didn't complain. I'd just excuse myself to go pee, then "accidentally" bump into a shelf in my haste, pretend to pick up the books but actually just "my" book, and pop into the bathroom. Coming out, I'd just do everything the other way around. Surprisingly, no one was ever the wiser and it made for perfect private reading material, I tell you that.

So back to my dad. He was working as a manager in a company that supplied manpower services for construction, truck repair businesses and mechanical engineering companies. Man-stuff. Male-oriented services. Even with women's empowerment movements and feminism advocacies gaining the world interest, it was obvious that these types of companies still preferred to hire MEN.